#just thinking of bill losing it at that happening led me to thinking of George’s reaction in seinfeld

[the-woman-upstairs]

The real reason Bill never introduced Ford to the Henchmaniacs is the same reason George didn’t want Susan hanging out with Jerry and Elaine: he has to keep those worlds separated for his own sake of mind. The Nightmare Dimension is his sanctuary, where he gets to be the cool and independent leader of a gang of inter-dimensional criminals and monsters. With Ford, he’s the attentive and manipulative loving boyfriend muse.

He can’t have Independent Bill and Relationship Bill existing in the same space; that’s a level of chaos even HE couldn’t handle.

[wellpresseddaisy]

Use Any Means part 10

If he was asked, years later, what he’d eaten for dinner the night he met Mr. Du, Percy Weasley would be completely incapable of answering. He remembered it as one of the better meals he’d eaten in several weeks (mostly as it wasn’t hastily eaten cafeteria sandwiches), but the contents remained a mystery. Hermione shattered his concentration on his dinner companions by sending a note down to the dining room right before the cheese course. He unfolded it and tried to focus on the words:

Percy,

Ron just told me that he forgot to mention one important point from last year. Umbridge forced Harry to write lines with a blood quill for much of the year. You can come up and see the scars if you feel the need to verify this.

Hermione

Percy rose without even thinking about it.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I think I need to speak with Miss Granger immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Weasley,” Mr. Du sounded amused for some reason as he rang for a footman. “Ah, Reynolds, could you take Mr. Weasley up to the day room, please?”

Percy followed the young footman uout of the room, his mother’s

“He isn’t usually so distracted, Mr. Du, although I know he hasn’t been eating or sleeping properly. I…oh yes, this would do it. I’ll show you, Mr. Du, but you’ll have to remain calm.”

trailing out the room behind them.

Did she know? Did everyone know? He’d worked so hard to protect his family over the last year, once he worked out what the Minister wanted. He knew before that awful argument, but who else could get information out? He got the position he did  because Fudge thought he was a useful naif and he could organize a schedule like nobody’s business. Did the Minister know what Dolores had been up to at Hogwarts? Or had he sent her there to be rid of her simpering for a year? Percy could never quite tell where things stood between them, honestly. Fudge seemed to lean on her in the strangest ways when she was at the Ministry. Without her, he seemed almost normal. Percy had just about got him to admit to You-Know-Who’s return privately when that mess at the Ministry happened.

The clean-up alone gave him the headache. Writing a statement for Fudge and handling his own feelings on the matter nearly had him down with migraine. He still couldn’t quite believe they’d lost Sirius Black. Sirius, who had been his only link, who wrote him the letter that started him collecting information for the Order. Percy didn’t know what he would have done without Sirius’ encouragement during some of those dark days. Sirius understood estrangement from one’s family and just how much it hurt, even when it was a necessary evil. As if he hadn’t see through the Minister’s ulterior motives in thirty seconds. He’d helped raise Fred and George, for Merlin’s sake. If he missed something that transparent then he deserved what he got.

He just wished he could have saved his mother some heartache. She worked so hard to keep hearth and home together and he’d…best not go down that road now. That road led to weeping into a teacup and far more mucus than one should have to handle in a day. Bill and Charlie each sent a howler that he still blushed to remember. As Sirius said, sometimes you simply had to do what needed doing and pay the price later. He could carry his family’s anger with him as long as he needed to if it kept them safe. That was all he wanted and what did it get him? His brother and sister rushing into peril (again) and Harry tortured for a year before losing his godfather.

Why the hell hadn’t Sirius flooded him? He’d told the man and told the man that if anything kicked off at the Ministry he was to know first. He could have…perhaps he could have stopped some of it. Perhaps he could have kept Sirius out of it or Ron or Hermione from being so horribly injured. They’d mocked him as a perfect, but he knew the value of a querulously official tone. People might think one weak, but that was how one claimed the element of surprise. If he’d known about Dolores…did Ron truly think he’d allow that sort of thing to go on? Did he believe Percy would allow a child his mother claimed as one of her own (a young man his brother claimed as brother) to be grievously injured? To be tortured?

Percy had worked himself into such an affronted lather by the time Reynolds coughed discreetly and said,

“The day room, Mr. Weasley.”

that he forgot all decorum and slammed the door open.

“How dare you keep something like this to yourself, Ronald Bilius?” he thundered.

Gone was Pompous Perfect Prefect Percy who couldn’t get anyone to mind him. This was pure enraged elder brother, like Charlie’s big hand landing on your shoulder as he growled ‘You’re knicked, sunshine’ or Bill’s incredibly weary ‘Right then, could you run me through your thoroughly asinine plan one more time, please’. Ron straightened up from his sideways slump on the sofa with a horrified squeak. Percy watched as he scrambled among Hermione’s books, trying to right the mess his sudden shift created.

“I can certainly promise you that the minute you turn seventeen I’m hunting up Great Grand Aunt Viola’s hairbrush. What would ever make you think to keep actual torture a secret?”

He heard Reynolds choke on a laugh as he closed the door. They’d certainly give the Servants’ Hall something to talk about tonight.

“What on earth…” Hermione finished rescuing her books and stacked them on the side table.

“And you, Miss Granger. I expected more sense from you.” He scolded.

“You’re the one who wrote that letter!” Ron protested, standing to square up with him.

When had his little brother shot up like that?

“Which I expected you to see straight through! I taught you about ulterior motives when you were four, Ronald. I thought you might remember.”

“Ulterior…” Ron’s voice trailed off as he thought. “You utter prat!”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t see straight through Fudge and Umbridge’s machinations? Fred and George had more guile in their little fingers when they were three than those two have ever managed between them. Of course I saw through it. The best I could do was make you angry enough to stop speaking to me, all of you. Although I had some hopes my brother wouldn’t be a complete idiot about it.”

Ron spluttered something, probably something foul which Percy decided he didn’t need to know, while Hermione looked thoughtful.

“You’ve been sending information to the Order, haven’t you?” she asked.

“Mr. Black,” Percy confirmed.

“I thought you were so wrapped up in the Minister that you’d never lift a finger to help.” Ron admitted.

“I could have tried. With Dolores at Hogwarts I was slowly bringing Fudge around. Next time you decide to form an extracurricular fighting force, could you possibly let me know? I could have had him laughing the whole thing off and not attempting to arrest Dumbledore.” Percy suddenly felt every single hour of overtime he’d worked.

“Then you shouldn’t have been such a berk at Harry’s trial.” Ron muttered.

Percy stifled the urge to remind Ron who taught him how to use a fork.

“I wasn’t at Harry’s trial. Dolores suggested that I would have trouble with impartiality so I spent that morning reorganizing the filing system.”

“But Harry saw you there as a clerk. You hardly even looked at him.”

Percy’s mind whirred. Could someone have…one wasn’t perhaps as careful in the Ministry, at work, as one might be elsewhere. He could have shed some hair and it could have been used in Polyjuice, he supposed.

“This has suddenly become a touch more complicated.”

“Do you believe us about the blood quill?” Hermione asked.

“Of course I believe you. You’re none of you liars and it’s exactly like Dolores.”

“Then sit down a minute and have a cup of tea or something. Mum’s right—you look peaky.” Ron slouched to a sideboard and poured a cup of tea.

Hermione stared until he moved to an easy chair across from the sofa and sank into it. A side table scuttled over to park itself by his arm rest. He patted it absently. Ron brought his tea over and then went back to the sofa. Merlin but he felt like a perfect again, dealing with miscreants.

“Now, from the beginning, please. What happened between Harry and Dolores?”

“And you’ll look at Harry’s hand?” Ron pressed.

‘I’ll look at Harry’s hand, I promise you.”

“We, er…” Hermione sighed, looking a bit chagrined. “The truth is I used my injury from the Ministry to guilt Harry into giving up the memories of his detentions. Madame Pomfrey took them for us and sealed them so you know they haven’t been tampered with. He’ll probably be put out with us, but we can give them to you, if you think you’ll need proof.”

“I’m going to the Minister directly after this,” Percy said. “It’s a bit delicate now, with the blood quill and Harry being the Black Duke, but I’ll talk Fudge around. The memories will help. Now, from the beginning.”

He fixed Ron and Hermione with a Look and they began talking.

--------------------------------------

Ron fiddled with the tea set at the sideboard for a moment before pouring himself a cup. He felt like a complete and utter juggins, not trusting Percy. He should have known, should have read that letter again instead of pitching it onto the fire in a rage. He throat hurt from all the talking. Percy took them over and over and over the year before he produced a dictaquill from his breast pocket and set it on parchment, making them say everything over again. Even feeling as he did, knowing Percy had everything under as much control as he could have him a sense of relief. He’d just wanted someone to do something about…about the whole terrible year they’d endured. All the decrees and the Quidditch ban and Harry bleeding everywhere all the time and Umbridge’s smug, today face every time she made one of them hurt. He should have tried to trust Percy.

Wasn’t Percy the one who was always there to help? Bill and Charlie were brilliant, but they weren’t interested in little brothers much. Percy had helped Mum and kept him entertained and taught him all sorts of things. And he repaid that by taking a leaf from Fred and George’s book as soon as he could.

“Ron, please stop fidgeting and come sit. They sent up a plate of sandwiches.”

Ron sighed and brought tea over to the sofa for both of them. He felt awash with it now, but he wanted to be awake just in case Harry woke earlier than expected. Sandwiches might help.

“What did Percy mean about finding your great grand aunt’s hairbrush when you turn seventeen?” Hermione asked suddenly.

Ron choked on his ham and cheddar.

“You can’t just go asking people things like that over sandwiches, Hermione!” he protested once he cleared his windpipe of crumbs.

“You aren’t people; you’re Ron.” Hermione bit into an egg and cress daintily.

“You could have waited until I swallowed,” he complained.

“Well?”

“It’s just…” Ron stopped and stared down at his plate. “You know magical society think my family is strange, yeah?”

“I didn’t think it was everyone.”

“I reckon it is, about, at least in the Hogwarts set. It isn’t just Dad or the Burrow being what it is. It’s…Mum and Dad have never hit us.”

“That’s strange?”

Her tone suggested it shouldn’t be strange, but Ron kept staring at his lap.

“You know how old fashioned people can be. I know loads of people at Hogwarts wouldn’t dare behave at home how they will at school. Bet they catch hell for it, though. Someone’s always going to tell, especially if it'll get them out of trouble.”

“And your parents don’t…Ron that isn’t strange at all. My parents have never laid hands on me, either.”

“It is in this world.” Ron gestured to the room. “Here your parents…they don’t own you, but there’s a lot more allowed. The magical world left the non-magical one when physical punishment was normal and…and considered the right thing to do for the good of one’s soul. Dad got injured early in his career and had to stay back at the office. They had all these non-magical journals that did research on raising kids and they all found that hitting didn’t work. Dad brought them home and Mum read them and they decided together. So, yeah, everyone thinks we’re weird and spoiled or something like that.”

“I’m still not sure where the hairbrush comes in.” Hermione reached over and grasped one of his hands.

“Oh, that’s to get people off Mum’s back. She’ll mutter something about it or tell us that we’re going to regret it when Dad gets home if we aren’t behaving. People still know, though. But the seventeen thing…” Ron felt his cheeks heat and struggled not to snigger.  

“What on earth could be so embarrassing?”

“It isn’t, not really. Mum…she…we’ve all of us asked why and I think I asked when Mum was distracted because she told me about their decision and how they never wanted any of us to be afraid of them or telling them anything and then…then she told me that it was perfectly acceptable for adults to decide they wanted…that in a relationship and some people liked to be in charge and enjoyed a more traditional set of roles and…er, that’s about when she realized what she was saying and almost ran out of the room because I was nine. So now when Bill or Charlie or Percy is annoyed with us they, er, well the birthday thing. Percy usually isn’t that open...must’ve really hacked him off.”

Hermione snorted, pressing her lips together. “Sorry…sorry, Ron it’s…”

“It was pretty funny at the time. Still is, now. Mum’s face, Hermione.”

“But it’s really…”

“Not sure how common, honestly, but accepted, yeah. I know there’s a few I wouldn’t want to be…Merlin, what if someone found someone like that for Snape?” Ron went off in a peal of laughter. “I’m imagining Lucius Malfoy interviewing people. Dad says he’s always talking Snape up at the Ministry. What if he’s trying to get him off his hands?”

“He’d eat them alive, honestly.” But she giggled anyway. “Really even OWL and NEWT students?”

“If you’re under their roof then you’re under their rules. Some families have different rules, too, like you might be of age for the government at seventeen but the family charter says it’s twenty-one or twenty-five. Mum has some corkers about people she knew. It’s one reason some get married so young.”

“How do you wrap your head around it? Especially considering how, oh, I don’t know, Malfoy behaves at school. Or Smith, who is a complete toe-rag.”

Ron shrugged. “I reckon it’s growing up knowing and knowing we were different.”

“And…was it Fred’s left buttock? They make it sound like a giant joke.”

“It is now because Dad apologized and promised it would never happen again. And it hasn’t. I think Dad was more upset over all of it than even the twins, but I was three.”

“Do you think there are any books…” Hermione began.

Ron fought bravely but lost his composure completely. “A how-to or maybe a stud book…” he managed around hiccups of mirth.

“Ronald! Don’t be crass or it will be a how-to manual!” she thwacked him with a cushion.

“Oooh-er, promises!”

Ron hauled a cushion over his face and howled as Hermione bashed him over the head.

[briskoforthogod]

Callie was the type of person to fall in love easily. Once she was smitten it was hard to get her to walk away. Unless she found herself being the one being cheated on or left behind. She had insecurities she was afraid of opening her heart again. Afraid of being left behind tossed aside like an after thought. George had hurt her; and Erica left her as if her feelings never mattered. And then the brunette found love with Arizona a perky blonde, that dimpled smile of hers. And she had this amazing opportunity and I generally was happy for her; but at the same time as Mark reminded me was I thrilled only because I didn’t want to lose the blonde or did I want to move? I didn’t I was sacrificing my own happiness for her. I tried to be okay with Arizona leaving me at the airport yelling at the other; we’re over. And I felt angry, I was angry at her for leaving me, for making me love her. 

Callie never planned on hopping into bed with Mark. He was hurting after Lexie and I was hurting, one night of stupid drinking, of feeling lonely led to a night of drunk sex. Did I regret that night? Yes and No. In a sense I did because deep down I could realize me moving on sleeping with Mark of all people had hurt Arizona. But on the other hand I got my dream, my dream of being a mom, and after holding Sofia for the first time I couldn’t imagine a life without my daughter. But I never wanted to hurt the blonde; and after she found out now; today I felt that tension. The unspoken hurt that brewed between us. Unresolved feelings. 

The last thing Callie craved was for her business to land into the gossip mill. She didn’t want those eyes on her; to have people telling her how to feel, telling her she was wrong. She stayed; Arizona was the one who left me behind, I don’t believe I was wrong for moving on with my life. But I did feel awful that Arizona took it hard; she felt stung, she was hurt, and I couldn’t defend myself. I wanted to give her space to think; to be okay with me being a mom, and Mark being a part of my life completely now. 

Callie was tossing out an olive branch because we had to work together. We couldn’t avoid each other forever; and swallowing lowly the brunette nodded and placed her coffee order; while she exchanged bills for both their coffees. “ It’s fine.” I muttered as the barista was getting our orders together. “ Let’s talk, we can’t keep avoiding. As much as we may want to. “ Civil now the female was as the coffees were now handed to us; wrapping her hands around the warm coffee as she stepped to the side. “ I didn’t plan it Arizona. It was a night I was hurting and lonely I was also drunk so was he.. I know it won’t make you feel better but it just happened..” But it happened more than once but I decided to keep it to myself; I didn’t know what may set the blonde off especially when it came to Mark Sloan.

Continued storyline with @briskoforthogod

Arizona knew Callie well enough to know she wouldn’t welcome her with open arms. There is nothing wrong with that because Arizona knows she her her. She was crying the whole time she was gone and didn’t know anything that was going on. She had no idea what she was coming back to Seattle to. She just had one thing in her mind and that was to see Callie. She knew she would have to fight for her to give her a shot and she was willing to put up a fight for that. She wanted nothing more then to start over with the brunette. Not that she deserved it but she would work for it if that what it takes for Callie and her tot ry this again. 

Arizona can still read Callie and knew she was still so angry at her. Not that she wanted her to be, but she understood. It was not like Arizona slept like a baby at night over in Malawi. It was far from the truth. She would cry at night missing Callie and trying so hard to find ways to come home and find ways to leave early but they had her locked into a contract and she couldn’t. Being over there was the longest three years of her life and she really didn’t know how else to put it. It was not what she wanted but it was what she got. But now Callie and her were working together. Not that they have lost that bit of how to work together because they still moved with ease in the operating room. Knowing each others next move. 

But being in the room together and just the two of them besides the nurses. Arizona decided to take her shot and just talk about things. Maybe it wasn’t the best place, but Callie couldn’t leave and she couldn’t run and not talk to her. So that was the reason why Arizona chose this point to talk to Callie. She could tell Callie as mad, she didn’t have to see her eyes, she can tell her by her body language and she knew she was getting to her. But she just needed her to know a few things before she dismissed anything and everything with the two of them if she felt like this could still be something that it was before she left three years ago. 

Sighing low, Arizona holds her tools where they are to assist Callie to do her part. “That is the thing though, you were faking happiness about going. It was a huge deal for me. I am sorry I didn’t think about tell you sooner, but I didn’t think it would matter. I wasn’t even going to go because I met you but then Webber make a big deal out of it and told everyone so I had to go. I tried, but with everyone looking over my shoulder and them not really knowing I had a girlfriend and if they knew I could have gotten thrown in prison for just being gay. So no, I couldn’t. Teddy, she was a friend, I didn’t have the urge to tell her I loved her like I would you. So, yes, I emailed Teddy because she was a friend and she told me how you were. The only thing she left tout is that you had a kid. She told me you were moving on and doing well.”

Arizona was being honest. She had no idea that she had a kid and when she happen to walk into that, she was shocked, and maybe hurt and maybe more but she had no right to feel all of that being that she left and Callie didn’t. “I don’t expect you to, but I need you to know I am here. I don’t have to go back. At all. They have someone else who took over and they are continuing what I did over there. But knowing that Callie slept with Mark so soon after she left that is what maybe hurt Arizona more then anything. Not that she would admit it but since they were letting everything out and being lost in Callie’s eyes for a moment and Arizona blinked to wipe away the tears that were threatening to fall. 

“I am not saying regret your daughter, I am not a monster Callie. Just Mark, out of all people. It is the one I was so scared of you going back to and guess what? You did. I am sorry, but Mark was always my concern. I know we weren’t together and you had every right to be with whoever but the one person I didn’t want you to be with you were. I just hope he treats Sofia the way she is supposed to be treated and I know you’re a fantastic mother. There was never any doubt in my mind about that. But it doesn’t take away at the fact that Mark is now attached you and this little girl and I will always be the person that is on the outside looking in.”

Blinking again and needing to get away and think. She wanted to be with Callie but this one hurt. Stepping back seeing she was done. She just walked out. She needed air and she needed to let her emotions hit without anyone else seeing it as she did it enough in Malawi that she just needed to be alone. She scrubbed out and washed her hands and took her mask off and she rushed off to an on-call room. Callie was the love of her life and she needed to just take it all in that things were different and Callie may never trust her again and never let her in again, but she was trying. She wanted this and if that meant her having a little girl with Callie and being the friend for now, then who was she to deny that.

[prettyboypucey]

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N 

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?) 

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something. 

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong. 

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid 

     I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

     When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

     Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

     Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

     Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

     Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

     Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

     Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

     “Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

     I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

     She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

     “You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

     “I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

     Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

     “I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

     I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

     Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

     I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

     “Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

     Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

     Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

     The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

     His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

     I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

     “So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

     I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

     “I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

     “Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

     I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

     Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

     At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

     “Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

     “Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

     Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

     Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

     “So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

     “Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

     Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

     “Um-”

     I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

     George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

     “Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

     The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

     The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

     “Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

     George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

     Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

     “Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

     George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

     I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

     “We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

     George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

     Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak. 

     Weird weird weird.

     The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

     When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

     “Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

     As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

     “What did you do?”  

[anxioussweasley]

hi! so i saw you were asking for requests so could i please request a fluff fred au with prompts 9 and 19 from the fluff part of the list? like reader and fred aren't dating but everyone knows they love each other and fred and reader kinda confess to each other while reader braids freds hair (he has it long like in goblet of fire)? some best friends to lovers kinda thing 🥺 thank you in advance, i love your writing!!

Braiding sessions and confessions

9. “Will you braid my hair?”

19. “We’d be a cute couple, don’t you think?”

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, unedited

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

A/n: Thank you for the request love! I really hope you like this, sorry I didn’t edit it lol.

“Well, hello love,” Fred greets as he sits next to you in the great hall. His twin following on the other side of the table, sitting across from him. As Fred gets settled he puts his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Hi Fred,” you mumble as you lay your head on his shoulder. Tired from the long night you spent doing assignments so you wouldn’t have any to do over the weekend.

“You two are gross y’know that?” George rolls his eyes, letting out a small chuckle when you and his twin's faces blush over. Fred retracted his arm from you to flip his brother off and you hurriedly sat up straight again.

“Oh shove off George, I know you're as emotionally stunted as a mandrake root but it is completely normal for friends to be affectionate,” Fred jokes, putting his arm back around you.

George only rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “yeah whatever you say.” His sarcasm radiating off of him.

You just giggle at the boy's antics, before turning back to fixing your breakfast plate.

As you fix your breakfast plate you try to reach across the table to grab the pitcher of pumpkin juice, but before your hand can clasp around the handle, Fred is reaching out and snatching it up with little effort. The boy gives you a warm smile, muttering an “I’ve got it,” before grabbing your cup and filling it up, placing it back down in front of you and filling his own cup.

“Thanks Freddie,” you smile shyly, reaching out for the cup and taking a sip. Small gestures like these were starting to confuse you. Fred was your best friend, so why did your heart flutter when he put his arm around you, or filled your cup for you, or winked at you, or sat by you, or looked at you, or basically existed in the same room as you. Well, you knew why… you just didn’t want to realize it yet.

“Aw what a cute couple,” George teased.

“George, I mean it. Shove. Off,”

“Are you going to hogsmeade today?” George directed at you, while shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.

“I’m not sure. Why?” You answered him, quirking your eyebrow at the question.

“Well, you see,” George started, Fred’s face already becoming hot with embarrassment, “Freddie here got caught while we were pranking filch last night. So he’s been banned from the trip. So I was just curious.” George gives you a knowing look, understanding that even if going to hogsmeade was your greatest wish in life, you would stay at hogwarts for Fred.

“George has already decided he’s going without me, and although I would love to just seek out, McGonagall said if I get caught she’ll be forced to kick me off the quidditch team. So I figured I’d just stay here and relax,” Fred informed. Hoping more than anything that you would offer to stay with him. The truth is he could easily sneak to Hogsmeade, but the idea of spending the day alone with you sounded much more appealing.

“I’ll stay here with you, if you want,” you suggested, heart warming at the thought of spending the day alone with Fred.

“Oh wow I never saw that coming,” George joked, his tongue laced with sarcasm. “You two should just admit you're in love already. You're so obvious even oblivious little ronnikens knows!” George exclaims making a big hand gesture down the table to Ron. Ron sits up straight, his mouth full of eggs, “what?” He questions looking between the three of you. Noticing how close you and Fred are sitting and the blush on your faces he quickly processes what George had said. “Oh, yeah, you two should get a room,” the younger ginger teases before going back to stuffing his face with breakfast. Fred glares at the younger boy for a minute as George quickly finishes his plate and leaves the great hall with Lee Jordan, before you or Fred can respond to his smug remark

A moment passes as you and Fred watch George leave and then you burst into a fit of giggles, “your brother is a real git sometimes.” Fred let out a loud laugh at that, nodding his head.

The two of you continued to eat breakfast, sitting shoulder to shoulder, laughing and joking. After a particularly loud laugh from you at one of Fred’s jokes, you looked around quickly to see if you had caught anyone’s attention. You noticed a group of girls glaring at you, and before you could brush it off as thinking you were annoying, you noticed they weren’t so much glaring at you as they were glaring at Fred’s arm around you. It had happened before. Girls glaring at you and Fred’s closeness, starting jealous rumors about you and Fred’s relationship. You have even had girls rudely ask if you were dating Fred, and when you promptly answer ‘no’, sweetly ask you to put in a good word for them. Despite your growing familiarity with the girls jealous stares. You started to feel uncomfortable as you looked back down at the table, unconsciously scooting away from Fred.

Fred noticed your sudden change in demeanor, glaring in the direction you were just looking, being met with the smug faces of a group of girls. Fred’s frown deepened before turning back to you and lightly bumping your shoulder with his arm. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” His voice was soft, contrasting the glare he sent the group of girls over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You answered quickly with a small nod. Fred stood up then, and offered his hand out to you, helping you off the bench and slinging his arm back around you as he led you to the Gryffindor common room.

“Sorry about all that,” Fred mumbled as you two strolled through the halls of hogwarts. He hated all the unwanted attention you got from being his friend. He knew his popularity among their peers, particularly their female peers, was a downside to your friendship with him.

“It’s not your fault, actually I’m starting to get used to it, I mean it’s been like this ever since you joined the quidditch team and got away with pranking Snape,” you giggle slightly at the memory of seeing the greasy professor in pink robes.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it,” Fred sighed, “I mean we’re not- '' Fred”

paused, honestly saddened by what he was planning to say. “I guess, well, we’re not even together. They should leave you alone.” He finished, shaking his head, to hide his blushed cheeks behind his hair.

“It’s okay Freddie. really. Honestly I’m more concerned about how long your hairs getting,” you joke trying to lighten the mood.

Fred laughs, giving you a smug smirk, “oh, don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“Trust me, love,” you giggle, “I don’t like it.” You try to finish your statement with a straight face but are unable to control your giggles.

“You wound me,” Fred joked dramatically, holding his hands up over his heart. Well you thought he was being dramatic, really he moved his hands to his chest because his heart felt like it was about to explode at you calling him love.

“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to bruise your ego there,” you taunt before softening your voice and saying, “I’m just kidding Fred, I do like your hair long, it suits you.”

Fred's face broke into a wide grin as he thanked you before suggesting that the two of you go hang out in his dorm considering that the common room was possessed by a very loud group of first and second years playing exploding snaps.

You and Fred made it up to the dorm room in comfortable silence, the two of you making yourselves comfortable on his bed. Fred pulled out one of the twins' inventions fiddling with it as you mindlessly braided a small piece of your hair.

Fred couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to you, he knew his brother was right, you and him act like you loved each other. Fred knew he loved you, but what if you didn’t love him? He could never risk losing your friendship over something like that. Could never risk losing you, no matter how much he wanted you to know how he felt. He watched you silently hoping you wouldn’t notice as you focused on braiding your hair.

“Ginny use to ask us to do that,” Fred murmured with a chuckle.

“What? Braid her hair?” You answered your own question.

Fred nodded scooting closer to you. “Yeah, all of us tried to learn how, George was good at it, I got the hang of it eventually but Bill was the best, Charlie was okay at it, Percy could do like the special kind. French braiding? Is that what it’s called?” You nodded. “Ron couldn't get the hang of it to save his life, not that he really wanted to.” Fred smiled warmly at the memories of when Bill tried to teach him how to braid Ginny's hair when she asked him. “I don’t even remember how anymore.”

“It’s sweet that you all tried to learn for your sister,” you said as you finished the small braid in your hair.

“Yeah I guess. Will you braid my hair?” Fred mumbled, as he realized that his hair now might be long enough for it.

A big smile spread across your face as you sat up. “Of course Freddie, come here,” you patted the place on the bed in front of you, Fred moving to sit there with his back towards you.

You ran your hands through his hair checking for tangles. “Your hair is so soft,” you giggle, in awe of how soft the ginger's hair was. As you braided Fred’s hair you started humming softly. A warm feeling spreading through you as you realized just how much you wanted to be like this all the time. You wanted to tell Fred how you felt, but you didn’t know how.

Fred was having the same tug of war in his mind. A shiver running down his spine each time your skin brushed his. He loved the feeling of your hands in his hair, he loved having you in his room, in his bed, just being close to you.

“Thanks for doing this Y/n,” Fred mumbled tiredly, your hands softly braiding his hair and the soft humming of your voice making him sleepy. “I’m sorry about my brother earlier by the way, and the girls in the great hall.”

“I already told you it's okay Freddie. And your brother was just teasing,” you answered.

“Yeah but he was right though. We’d be a cute couple, don’t you think?” The words had escaped Fred’s mouth before he could even process what he was saying. His heart dropped to his stomach when you quickly pulled your hands away from his hair.

He sat up straight, quickly turning to you, to gauge your reaction. When his eyes landed on you, you were staring back at him with wide eyes. “You- you think we’d be a cute couple?” You whispered breathless.

When Fred realized that your initial reaction was not automatic rejection, the sinking feeling in his stomach lessened as he decided to summon all the courage he had. “Yeah, I really do. Y/n, George was right when he said I loved you.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to think. Fred was your best friend and you were in love with him, and here he is confessing to you. You didn’t snap out of your awe until you registered a sad disheartened look crossing Fred’s face. You cursed yourself for being quiet for too long. So you reached out your hands, cupping Fred’s face and bringing him closer to you. “I love you too, Freddie.” And with that you crashed your lips on his.

After the kiss Fred asked you to be his girlfriend, and after you happily accepted, you finished braiding his hair. The two of you lounged around his dorm for the rest of the day holding each other and wishing you hadn’t waited so long to confess.

“I knew it!” George yelled as he entered the room finding you and Fred snuggled up on Fred’s bed. Lee laughed at George’s loud remark. “I swear if you two look me in the eye now and say you're just friends I’m going to lose it!” George exclaimed, making everyone in the room laugh.

“We’re not just friends.”

[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Ch 6

AO3 | FFN

Previous chapter on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

Special thanks to @deadwoodpecker for beta reading this chapter

********

It was Molly’s turn to catch Arthur as he swayed on his feet and nearly fainted into her lap.

Hermione’s trembling hands were clapped firmly over her mouth, her eyes bulging to the size of saucers and darting around the room, unsure of who to start questioning, lecturing, or comforting first.

Ron was standing comfortably looking very pleased with himself, taking his turn to give Hermione his best “I told you so” look.

Fleur was silently beaming.

George’s face was turning red and his lips were pressed together so tightly they were turning white, he was trying so hard to keep his flippant comments to himself.

Percy had an intense, focused look on his face like he was trying to solve a maths problem or get a joke.

Bill and Charlie were glaring at Harry with a renewed quiet venom that was more intimidating than the unrestrained threats of a few minutes earlier.

But Harry wasn’t even close to caring, because his brain was too busy with listing to him all of the reasons why he was a terrible person and how he had ruined Ginny’s life and how he had no business being responsible for a tiny helpless human. With the deathly silence of the kitchen, he could perfectly hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

Ginny was still just staring at the blue potion with a completely blank expression. Finally, she was the one who broke the silence.

“...Huh.”

That sound was like a dam breaking, and the entire family erupted into a new flood of noise, all shouting over each other.

“Okay, okay, nobody panic!” Hermione shrieked, flapping her hands and clearly panicking, “We can handle this, I’ll help Ginny make a plan! I’ll start a baby binder!”

Molly darted across the kitchen and tackled her still-stunned daughter into a crushing hug.

“Remember Ginny dear, this is a good thing and we’re all happy for you, even though I’m so sorry I failed you as a mother,” she cried.

“By that she means you both are always accepted by this family and we’ll help any way we can,” said Arthur seriously.

“Yes, feel free to floo over if you ever start feeling sick, dear,” wept Molly, clasping onto Ginny’s hands for dear life, “and I know you starve yourself for your team, but you need to eat whatever you have a craving for as soon as you crave it, even if those trainers don’t like it. I’ll be happy to cook it for you. In fact, I’ll just start coming over every day to make sure you have everything.”

Behind her, Fleur was silently fist-pumping in victory at the new target for Molly Weasley’s doting.

“Not that anybody cares,” said Ron pointedly, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed, “But I’m still waiting for my apology.”

That was enough to shake Ginny out of her trance and she actually chuckled. “Ronald, it’s going to take a lot more than the immediate vindication of the wanker things you say for that to happen.”

Bill and Charlie’s faces had turned a shade of purple that reminded Harry entirely too much of Uncle Vernon.

“The rising star junior Auror can’t handle rudimentary contraception magic?” Charlie growled through clenched teeth.

Harry gulped loudly enough to be heard over the cacophony. “No! This potion batch is just a dud, we’re always safe!”

Ginny gasped and grabbed Harry by the sleeve. She pulled him close and whispered, as if there were a chance everyone wouldn’t hear. “Wait, Harry, you did remember to do the Charm...erm….that time, right?” She glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. “That time...you know...at that thing? That thing three weeks ago?”

Harry’s insides felt like they had been frozen. Apparently the look on his face betrayed him, because Ginny looked to be going through the same revelation as him.

“I….I thought you had,” he mumbled weakly.

Ginny winced and closed her eyes. “Noooooooo,” she moaned, “Harry, we established this, the one who initiates it needs to do the Charm!”

“Exactly!” said Harry, “You were the one who grabbed me and dragged me to the bathroom!”

“Only because you hadn’t taken your hand off my thigh the entire bloody dinner!” said Ginny frantically, “What was I supposed to do, just keep eating cake?”

“Wait!” said Ron loudly, and Harry and Ginny froze like trapped rabbits.

Ron glared back and forth between the two of them, the gears in his head working. “Dinner? Cake? Three weeks?”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Hermione seethed dangerously. “Seriously? At our engagement party!?”

Harry shrank away from her like a child caught in the sweets jar. “Er….would you believe that we got caught up in the romance of the moment? You know, because you two are so in love, it’s inspiring?”

“Exactly!” said Ginny, “Really, you should take this as a compliment.”

Ron had his hands over his ears and his eyes clenched shut. “Welp. I can never use that bathroom again. We have to move flats. Better yet, let’s just burn down the building.”

“So what is the Harpies’ maternity plan?” Percy asked studiously, as if this were simply a bureaucratic issue, “how soon do you plan on going on leave? Assuming, of course, you...you know….intend to go through with it”

Tense silence fell, as the misunderstanding that caused all this chaos was suddenly relevant again. Every face was looking toward Harry and Ginny with baited breath.

Ginny swallowed and cleared her throat.

“That,” she said forcefully, crossing her arms, “is none of your business. None of this is any of your business. So if you’ll excuse us, the only people whose opinions matter right now will discuss this alone.”

Without waiting for a retort, Ginny grabbed Harry by the hand and led him up the stairs. After they entered Ginny’s old bedroom and Harry closed the door behind him, she paced back and forth several times before turning to face him.

“Did you put a ward on the door?” she asked.

“And several more on our way up the stairs,” answered Harry. “We should have a while before an Extendable Ear sneaks in here.”

“Good. Very good. Cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, both hesitant to look the other in the eye. Harry wanted to hug her and start reassuring her, but he also didn’t want this conversation to start, because he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to hear what he suspected Ginny would say.

Even though he was completely panicking and sure he would find a way to spectacularly mess up raising a child, there was no doubt in his mind about at least trying his best at it. But he knew how dedicated Ginny was to her career, and how difficult this could be for her. He was sure what she was going to say, but he wasn’t sure he could withstand hearing it.

Ginny was chewing her lip, but finally broke the silence. “Look, Harry….this is a lot to take in. Neither of us planned on this happening so soon, obviously. I understand if you want to focus on your job—”

“What?” Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a professional athlete who has another human growing inside you, and it’s my job we need to worry about?”

Ginny shrugged. “Well, I could keep playing for the next few months. The team healers put a ward around your abdomen for bludgers. I would have to take a break eventually, but I’m on contract now, so I’m secured in my roster spot while on maternity leave, and they always give players a chance to earn their starting spot back.”

“Oh,” said Harry, surprised. “Well that’s….that’s good. I thought it would be more cutthroat.”

“Well, the Harpies’ whole brand is having the very best female players in Britain,” said Ginny proudly, “and having a reputation for the best maternity plan in the league makes them pretty attractive to all their prospects. It’s hard to build a core team if you permanently lose a player every time someone gets pregnant.

“So…” she said assertively, looking him in the eye. “I feel like...we can do this. I want to keep this baby. But ultimately I feel like it’s both of our decisions. I’ll understand no matter how you feel. So….what are you thinking?”

Harry felt like he was in a tug of war, between exploding from happiness or imploding from terrifying nerves. Dementors, dragons, Death Eaters, nothing was as scary as this, but he also didn’t have to think about his answer, even for a second.

His hand drifted into his pocket and he toyed with what was inside. This wasn’t how he imagined doing this, but she asked him what he was thinking, and this night had already flipped all their plans upside-down, what was a bit more?

Harry focused on Ginny’s brown eyes, still earnestly waiting for his answer, and he found the courage he always found there.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he said bracingly.

He dropped down to one knee.

Ginny made a high-pitched squeak and her eyes widened in shock. Harry smiled at himself, pleased that he could still catch her completely off-guard.

“I wasn’t planning on doing this soon. I was afraid you would think I was being pushy. Was going to wait a few years. Or maybe a few months. Okay, I was probably close to cracking already. And in the meantime, it still felt good to have this on me, as a good luck charm I suppose.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black box he had bought weeks earlier.

“Harry….” Ginny whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

“Ginny,” Harry answered. He opened the box to reveal the ring. “Will you mar—guh!”

He was cut off by a crazed redhead tackling him to the ground, grabbing his face and kissing him hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Harry’s head was spinning, but he reluctantly pushed her back.

“Gin — Gin!” he grunted between kisses. Finally, Ginny pulled back, frowning at him.

“There’s kind of a part you forgot?” Harry said pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

Ginny looked lost for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Yes. Obviously yes, you idiot.”

She kissed him again, and he lost track of time. Eventually, his back started to get sore on the wood floor, and he pushed himself up and pulled them both to their feet.

“We can finish our own celebration later,” said Harry, smiling so wide his face was sore, “but we should probably put your family’s worries to rest. And I can’t wait to show the world your hand with this on it.” He slid the ring onto her finger, and Ginny bounced on her feet like she was eleven years old again, practicing signing the name “Ginny Potter” in a diary.

Then, her smile slipped and she groaned loudly. “Ugh, this will make my mum even more of a nightmare now. I thought she was bad in the lead-up to Bill’s wedding, she’ll be even worse since she has to be the mother to both of us.”

“Well, Bill’s wedding was nice, wasn’t it?” said Harry diplomatically.

“I mean, I guess,” Ginny shrugged, “but not nearly nice enough to be worth all the hassle. The months of my mother stressing over everything and making sure I know my part. And I was just a bridesmaid! Being the center of attention of a hundred people while wearing a cumbersome dress might be Fleur’s dream, but it sounds like the worst day of my life.”

She wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him close. “I just care if I’m the center of your attention.”

Harry smiled even wider. “Well don’t worry, you could be wearing a burlap sack and I still won’t be able to take my eyes off you.”

“So you don’t mind backing me up when Mum breaks out the bridal magazines?” Ginny asked pleadingly. “I was never one of those girls that fantasize about an extravagant wedding; in fact, the smaller the better. We’ve never really talked about it, but I know you, so I assume you would be okay with that?”

Harry laughed loudly. “Are you kidding? Yes, absolutely. You know I’m not exactly a social butterfly. As far as I’m concerned, we could jusy floo over to the Ministry and take care of it right now.”

They both erupted into a fresh round of laughter, holding each other and clutching their sides at how funny and ridiculous the idea was.

Then, their eyes met, and their laughter faltered, growing more and more quiet until tense silence descended on the room. Their smiles dropped, and their suddenly serious eyes held a wordless conversation.

Finally, both their mouths crept back up into wide smiles, this time being full of mischief.

[idk-maybe-i-did-it]

Problem- Remus Lupin

Older Remus x Weasley!Reader

A/N: The Weasley!Reader is 22 years old in this to begin with but is 25 after the time skip, 26 after the second one.

ANYWAY- I hope you like it @elizaphantandroses tis your request after all. I think it was a bit bad toward the beginning but it was better near the end in my opinion

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, implied assault, blood and wounds, mild cursing

Let’s start:

Remus Lupin was in an emotional disaster.

Y/n L/n, the new Weasley recruit in the Order, he had a problem for her.

He didn’t have a problem with her work ethic or the ways he did thing, no, Remus had a problem, and his problem was her.

Whenever she was around Remus never was able to think entirely straight, he could never focus directly on his work when she was working on hers. When it was declared that she and Remus had to go on a mission together, his senses were jacked up by a megawatt and they finished up perfectly and quickly because of fear that she would get hurt.

It went the same with Y/n. Remus was her problem as well, and her mum and dad were starting to sense that.

———————————————————————

It was over, the war had ended, and everybody was finally safe.

Fred and George started a new line of products for people with P.T.S.D.

Harry and Ginny were ready, Hermione and Ron were together.

Yet, Remus and Y/n never stopped.

When Remus decided to open a bakery shop ad Y/n showed up one day to apply for a job, Remus hired her without a word and it was splendid. Molly and Arthur watched their eldest daughter as she fell in love again and waited for her to finally realize that the man she loved looked at her like she was his light and breath.

Remus, how do I say this, he loved Y/n, but he tried to tell himself he didn’t. Because he though that she deserved better; Remus thought the woman needed someone Younger, someone brighter, somebody who could give her as she needed and wanted. So, when Y/n one day walked into his house to ask him for help with a wound on her side Remus almost shut the door on her face. Until he realized she needed help.

Which of course led to this now.

“ No Remus let me in,-

“ Y/n really, I have to do something at the moment.”

He watched in sorrow as the woman leant against the door of his home, hand to her side, face screwed up in pain.

“ No Remus please, I’m bleeding out here you’re not just going to-‘

And that was when he snapped to attention and stopped with the lies. The man quickly put his arms under her legs and carefully under her waist and picked her up; moving her swiftly to his bedroom where he could asses the damage. He placed the H/c woman on the side of his bed and helped work her out of the shirt and cloak she had been wearing to reveal a knife dug into her side along with multiple bruises and two jagged cuts running down her chest to lower abdomen.

Remus had to clench his fists in anger and quickly set off to work mending the wounds and bruises, cuts and other marks. Where Remus had placed a spell to stop the blood from coming out of the knife wound he now had to remove to remove the knife itself and furthermore help her. Right before he went to remove the knife he looked up at the woman, “ This is going to hurt like hell love.”

She reached out and grasped his forearm as he went to pull it out and she bit down on her lip, her toes curling and back arching slightly. As Remus finished bandaging the wounds up he went over to his dresser and pulled out one of his sweaters, helping the panting woman into it.

“ What- Who- What the bloody hell happened Y/n?”

The girl shook her head, looking towards the floor, “ It’s nothing Remus...”

She had to stop mid sentence because a certain brown haired man looked up at her from his crouched position and gave her that look that just said ‘I am Remus Lupin, and You will cut the shit.’

“ I was cornered by a group of men on my way back home. They got a few good hits in before I got them with a jinx and Obliviated ‘em.”

Y/n attempted to moved backwards and sit up but Remus was having none of that. He was now even more pissed than before and he had good rights to be so. The man moved over and grasped his wand, waving it slightly and all the blood that had been spilled on the bed was gone then, he moved over and took the girls cloak out and put it on his coatrack before he moved back and picked up the woman, carrying her to the couch in his sittingroom.

Remus sat and placed her laying down beside him, she managed to wiggle over and place her head in his lap, arms propped up on his thigh to make her head adjust better. “ Don’t worry Rem, I’m good now. I just have to aparate home to mum so she knows I made it home and I’ll be fine.”

Remus scowled down at her and growled lowly.

“ No you’re not Y/n. You are going to stay here tonight and I’ll take you over to your parents home tomorrow and explain what’s happened.”

Y/n immediately reacted with a panicked look and slide backwards until she were sitting utop Remus’ leg. She quickly placed her hand on his leg and another on his arm to keep her body steady. “ Don’t tell mum Remus. It’ll kill her! She’s already worried enough about me being out on my own in this muggle town, if we tell her what happened she’ll freak out and I’ll never be able to leave the house anymore. I won’t be able to go to work and I won’t be able to visit the boys and gin anymore, I won’t be able to see Fred and George, I won’t be able to visit Perce and Bill and Fluer, I won’t be able to see yo-‘

Remus stopped Y/n’s panic attack and ongoing ramble by pushing her back lightly against the couch and leaning over her, engaging her mouth, lips and tongue in a very passionate kiss. The girl moved her elbows to prop herself up and reached an arm to thread it loosely through Remus’s hair and tugging on it slightly as he pulled her jaw closer to his. After a few more moments the two started to lose oxygen and Remus pulled away, panting, as he watched Y/n’s chest heave trying to get breath in.

“ I won’t tell your mum if that’s the case. Or maybe she’d let you stay s’long as you’re with me.”

The man let out a cheeky smirk at the woman underneath him and he leaned down, kissing her forehead.

“ Now let’s get you to bed love, you’ve had a rough night.”

———————————————————————

“ You’re moving back in with us.”

Y/n stood next to Remus in her childhood houses’ living room as her mum fussed over her split and sealed side.

“ No mum, I’m my own person. I can take care of myself mum-‘

“ That’s exactly what you said the Christmas of your third year when those boys felt you up and afterwards Charlie still had to hex them brainless.”

“ Dad! You can’t be going there now! We survived the war for Godics sake! I thought that would be enough to prove I could handle myself enough!”

Remus placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, hand shaking slightly.

“ She has a point Molly, Y/n can take care of herself. Besides, she’ll be with me. Y/n’ll be fine, it was just one thing and we went off and told the muggle policeman earlier about what had happened aswell.”

Molly, still slightly fuming, came up and moved to where her daughter was standing, engulfing the two of them in her signature bone-crushing hug.

Fred came storming down from the stairwell and lifted his elder sister, spinning her bridal style in his arms.

“ Took you long enough N/n, just give it a bit more time before I get some nieces and nephews.”

“ Shut up Fred!”

__________________________________________

1 Year Later

__________________________________________

“ Hey Rem?”

Y/n asked as she slide into Remus’ lap on Ginny and Harry’s couch. They were babysitting her little sisters newborn infant so Harry could take Ginny out with Ron and Hermione.

She had just gotten the child to sleep and had been planning on going to sleep with her Fiancé on the couch afterwards.

Remus sat up a bit straighter and pulled Y/n closer to his chest, slipping his hands under the soft fabric of the sweater of his that she’d been wearing, rubbing shapes into her soft hips. “ What is it darling?”

Y/n turned around in his lap and began to smooth down the fabric of his button-up, biting her lip.

“ Mum has so many grandkids now Rem... I think I forgot count. Do you mind counting for me?”

Remus guided Y/n legs to straddle his waist as he continued to let his hands gently make their way up her back and torso.

“ Love, your memory must be jumbled, if I recall correctly James is her only grandchild.”

Y/n began to lightly trace the feel of Remus’s shoulders through his shirt as she held an innocently ignorant look on her face.

“ No, Rem you’re forgetting one.”

Remus looked up at his love with a quizzical expression and went back to kneading shapes into her hips.

“ What’re you talking about love? You must be confused because Molly doesn’t have anymore grandchildren... Unless someone else is pregnant and just hasn’t- you’re pregnant aren’t you Y/n?”

“ It depends on whether or not you’ll be mad by my response.”

Remus sat forward slightly pulling her closer to his chest as he wiped a few stray tears from her eye.

“ Love I would never be mad about something like this...”

Y/n nodded her head slightly.

“ I mean, I already talked to Perce and he said that Lyncanthrophilia can only be transferred through a werewolf’s bite. I mean, if you don’t want to keep it I’ll have to live with that but-‘

Remus stopped her worried ranting by pulling their bodies flush, slamming his lips into hers in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

“ I want to keep it Y/n.”

__________________________________________

Drink some water, eat some food, take screen breaks and remember that You Are Loved

^ - ^

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

About Time [G.W] - Part 5

pairing: George Weasley x OC

series description: on an unexpected night out, George meets the love of his life. and then suddenly loses her. what lengths will he go to in order to find her?

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @p0gues4l @amourtentiaa @305weasley

series masterlist

“Weasley, for two,” George said to the host. After leaving Gringotts, they had apparated to downtown London to a small wizard-friendly restaurant. They were guided to a small table in the corner of the dimly lit restaurant. There was a flame lit in a jar that was sitting on the table, providing some mood lighting.

The table was small and George’s long legs were so cramped that his knees were gently grazing his date’s.

“This is nice,” she said, looking around the small restaurant. The atmosphere was warm and cozy, which was only enhanced by a man playing guitar and singing cover songs for the patrons.

“Have you been here before?” George asked.

“No, I didn’t know this place existed.”

“Wish I could take credit but Fred recommended it. This is his go-to date spot.”

“And where’s your go-to date spot?” she challenged.

“Eh that would be Dans le Noir,” George replied, referring to the spot where they had shared a meal in complete darkness.

She laughed, “No I’m serious.”

“I don’t think I really have one. Every now and then I’ll take someone to one of the bars in Diagon Alley, but truthfully I don’t go on many dates.”

“That surprises me,” she replied.

“Why’s that?”

“You’re very likable and easy to be around. And you’re not too bad to look at either.”

He blushed ever so slightly, “I think I can get along with anyone, but I’m more interested in finding someone I have a connection with and that’s a bit harder to find.”

“Do you feel like there’s a connection between us?”

“Do you really need to ask that question?” He responded

“Hey, I’m entitled to ask that! As of an hour ago I had no idea you were even interested. This has all been very unexpected.”

“That’s fair. Well for the record, you’re the first person I’ve felt a connection with in a long time.”

She let out a small smile before asking, “So what happened that night?”

George sighed, “I still haven’t been able to figure it out. I think I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you so it took me by surprise when you were so…incredible. And then I got nervous because I wanted you to like me and I wasn’t myself. That’s never happened to me before.”

“Well don’t let it happen again,” she replied with a smirk. They were briefly interrupted by a waiter who came by to take their orders. Molly continued the conversation, “I want to call you out for taking me on a proper date only after seeing me for the first time but it seems like you had this all planned out.”

“This was one of many plans.”

“Oh yeah? What were the other plans?”

“The original plan was waiting for you to come into the shop, but you didn’t want to cooperate.”

“I thought about it. A few times actually. But I convinced myself that you had someone else in your life, which is why you were so quiet that night. And I thought seeing you might be difficult.”

George hadn’t thought about her perspective before and it made perfect sense. He wasn’t sure what he could say to make things better, and luckily Molly interjected and said, “So how did you get to tonight’s plan?”

“I considered writing to you at the Prophet, but that just seemed so impersonal. And then I thought about just coming to your workplace to ask you out, but that didn’t seem quite right either. And then Fred found the invitation in the mail. I wasn’t positive you would be there, but it seemed like a real possibility. And now here we are.”

“You’re very impressive, you know that?”

“All for you, darling,” Molly blushed at his comment and George called her out, “Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to be all nervous now?”

“Of course not,” she replied.

“Then why are you blushing?”

She smiled, “It’s just nice to be pursued.”

“I have a hard time believing that guys aren’t throwing themselves at you.”

She considered her words carefully, “There are a lot of guys that are interested in sleeping with me, but romance appears to be a bit of a lost art.”

“Lucky for you, I am quite the romantic.”

“I bet you are,” she smiled. The conversation flowed pretty effortlessly and soon they had finished up their meals and were working on the last of their drinks. As George closed out the tab, Molly asked, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

George smiled, “I’d like that.” He finished paying the bill as Molly sucked down her last few sips before they gathered their things and walked out together.

It was a beautiful night, perfect for a walk through the town. George had his hand in his pockets and Molly took this moment to make a move.

“Wow, you aren’t even going to try and hold my hand?” she commented.

George looked at her and smiled, “You didn’t strike me as the PDA type.”

“Normally I’m not, but I’m willing to make an exception for someone special.” He took his hand out of his pocket and scooped up her delicate hand in one swift motion. He quickly interlaced their fingers and swung their hands back and forth. She chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“So I have an idea for our next date,” George said.

“And what makes you think there’s going to be a next date?” she teased.

“Because I know you can’t resist my effortless charm.”

“I won’t confirm or deny that. But hypothetically speaking, what sort of date are you planning?”

“I’m thinking I’ll get us some tickets to the Weird Sisters,” George felt butterflies in his stomach thinking of their first concert experience together.

“So you’re going to wait two weeks before taking me out on another date?” she countered. George was crafting a response but before he could say anything she added, “I’m surprised, I thought this date was going pretty well.”

“Ah so you do want a second date,” he grinned.

“I would like a second date, but please don’t make me wait two weeks. The concert can be our fourth or fifth date.”

“Now Molly, I know you couldn’t possibly be getting attached,” George said.

“Come on now George, you know I’m way too cool to admit to that.”

“Ah, but you also didn’t deny it.” Molly rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile growing on her face.

They continued walking along the cobblestone street, passing by storefronts that were dark and the occasional pub with a boisterous crowd. George didn’t have a destination in mind, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to spend as much time with Molly as he could get.

“So Molly, I know you’re from the States, but whereabouts?” he asked.

“I’m from Chicago.”

“Oh I’ve actually heard of Chicago. And how did you like it?”

“It’s a great city. Part of me thinks I could’ve had a happy life living in Chicago. But I wanted to explore new places and that wasn’t going to happen in my hometown.”

“Well for the record, I’m glad you decided to venture across the pond.”

“And where are you from?”

“I’m from Devon,” he said.

“Oh nice,” Molly replied.

“Are you familiar with Devon?” he asked skeptically.

She shook her head, “Not at all.” George laughed and she added, “Can’t say we learned much European geography in school.”

“So Devon is on the Western coast. It’s close to Cornwall which you may have heard of.”

“Yes, Cornwall I know.”

“Yeah so we’re a bit further north. And our town is rather small, mostly farms. Muggles primarily inhabit the area so we keep to ourselves for the most part.”

“And how did you like that?”

He sighed, “I loved my upbringing, but there’s a reason I moved closer to the city. I needed a little more action and excitement.”

“Now that I understand.”

“What’s your favorite part about London?” he asked.

She thought for a moment, “I love everything about London. I can’t quite put my finger on why. When I first came here when I was younger, I just had a feeling in my stomach that this was where I wanted to be. I’m a very logical person and I had never really experienced a feeling like that. So I followed it and never looked back.”

“Do you think you’ll stay here long term?”

She nodded, “I miss my family terribly and I would love to be closer to home, but I can’t imagine leaving London right now.”

“Well good. I had to make sure you weren’t planning to up and leave.”

“Nah, not my style,” she joked.

At this point, Molly had slowed her walking pace and came to a halt. George took a few steps ahead and turned around.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.

“Well we’ve reached our destination,” she said. He looked at her with a puzzled look. “This is my apartment,” she said, directing her attention to the window situated on top of the teashop where they were currently standing.

“Did you just trick me into walking you home?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Maybe,” she smirked. “But I’m hoping you’ll come upstairs with me for a nightcap.”

Molly noticed him perk up ever so slightly as a small smile spread across his face. “I couldn’t possibly turn that down.” Molly smiled and gently dropped his hand as she fished her keys out of her pocket. They walked up the narrow staircase that led to her tiny one bedroom apartment. Before unlocking the door, Molly pulled out her wand and muttered a quick spell that George recognized to be a charm to tidy up.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting company tonight,” she explained.

“Does that mean you’re messy normally?” he challenged.

“Well...it's more clutter than anything. Does that…bother you?”

“Not at all. I’m one of six dear, I’m used to clutter.”

Molly sighed with relief as she opened the door to her magically cleaned apartment. It was kitschy and cramped, yet very comfortable.

“Make yourself at home,” she smiled, as she walked over to the bar cart to pour a couple firewhiskeys. George took off his suit jacket and laid it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. He slipped off his shoes and placed them neatly by the front door. Molly padded over barefoot to the couch and George followed with ease.

“Cheers,” she said, as they clinked glasses. Molly took a generous sip from her glass to combat her nerves. She hadn’t expected any of this and she was surprised at how bold she had acted around George. She liked him and she was sure about that, but she wasn’t quite sure what her next move was.

Molly placed her glass on the coffee table and slid in a little bit closer to George. “Thank you for tonight,” she said genuinely, as she placed a delicate hand on his leg.

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” he replied. George shifted and put his arm around her shoulders. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked.

“I had a wonderful time with you.”

“Can I take you out again next week?”

Molly simply nodded and smiled at him. George sighed and cupped her cheek. “Have I told you how absolutely stunning you are?”

Molly giggled and said, “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“It’s the truth, I’m not just saying that.”

She blushed, “I didn’t think you were. Your eyes said it all.”

“Now that is not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“My eyes say it all yet your eyes aren’t giving me anything,” he joked.

“Really? You aren’t getting the message that I’m trying to send you?”

“You’re going to have to try harder darling because I’m not getting anything.”

“Oh, you know what…I’m better at sending messages with my lips than my eyes,” she flirted.

“Is that so?”

“Only one way to find out.”

That was all the encouragement George needed. He leaned in towards Molly, planning to tease her a little but as soon as he felt her breath he couldn’t help himself. He gently placed his hand on the back of her neck and through her hair as his lips connected with hers.

The electricity was unlike anything he had ever felt before. If he thought she was the one before, now he was certain.

“Wow,” she breathed, catching her breath for a moment.

“That good, huh?” George joked.

“Can we do that again?” Molly asked, tugging on George’s tie.

“As you wish,” he said, enveloping her lips in his. It wasn’t long before the two were horizontal on the couch. Molly felt like a giddy teenager and couldn’t get enough of George. His musky scent was driving her wild.

George slowly kissed up her neck to her ear, where he nibbled on her ear lobe. That set her over the edge.

“We should…move to the bedroom,” Molly suggested.

George popped up to look at her, “Are you sure?”

Molly nodded enthusiastically, “I’m sure.” George stood and scooped up Molly in his arms as she giggled and he carried her into the bedroom where the festivities would continue.

X

“Wow,” George said, as he collapsed in bed next to Molly.

“Wow is right,” she said, struggling to catch her breath. She curled into George’s chest as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“I never do this,” Molly stated.

“Well you could’ve fooled me,” he said.

She lightly smacked him on the chest. “I’m not talking about sex,” she chuckled, “I mean that I never bring guys home on the first date.”

“Technically that was our second date, love.”

“Okay well I don’t usually bring guys home on the second date either.”

“Are you trying to tell me you like me?” he joked.

She laughed and said, “I’m trying to tell you that you’re special.”

George felt fuzzy inside. This was the first time that she had been direct with him about her feelings. He was starting to see a future with her.

“So what are we going to do tomorrow?” he asked.

“We could go to brunch…or we could make some breakfast here. And then if it’s nice we could go for a walk in the park. If it’s not nice we can go see a movie.”

“All I want is to spend the day with you darling.”

“Will you take me to your shop tomorrow?” she asked.

“You want to see the shop?” he looked at her with a smile.

She nodded, “I want to learn everything about you.”

George kissed her temple and pulled her in closer to him. “I would love nothing more than to share that with you.”

Molly smiled and pecked him a few times on the lips. She turned and pulled George around her so they were spooning. George kissed her shoulder and wished her good night as she drifted off to sleep.

George was soothed by her steady breathing and felt himself grow tired, but his mind was reeling which was preventing him from falling asleep. He couldn’t believe how perfectly things had gone and that his patience had actually paid off. His instincts were spot on and he knew that this girl was the one for him. George recognized that they were in the early stages of something special, but he knew he had found his soul mate.

[prongsies]

Baggage Pt. 2 • George Weasley

PAIRING: George Weasley x Reader

SUMMARY: Christmas is the perfect time for the Weasleys to get the family together, and maybe it’s also a perfect time to welcome some new members in

WARNINGS: Language, smol bits of angst

PART 1

_______________________________________________________________

Laughter echoed through the walls of the Burrow, over the faint Christmas music Molly Weasley was playing on the radio. The smell of roast chicken filled George’s senses as he stood in the living room with his brothers and Harry, watching in amusement as the two hoisted Fred up from his wheelchair, helping him as he took a few wobbly steps forward.

A warm feeling made its way into George’s chest as his brother neared him, taking a few little steps at a time to get used to the feeling of having to rest his weight on his legs again. 

Of course, being the ever-loving twin brother he is, he held his hands out towards Fred, making grabby hands at him as if he were a child taking his first steps

“You’re a dick” Fred quips when he finally realized what George was doing. He rolled his eyes as Ron and Harry helped him back on his wheelchair, both stifling their laughter - which didn’t go unnoticed by Fred, “That how you lot see me, eh?”

“Please” George started, patting his twin’s head, hurriedly stepping back when Fred made a move to hit him in his regions, missing him by an inch, “You’ve always been a big baby”

“I beg to differ” Fred protested, crossing his arms over his chest, further proving George’s point.

The younger twin was about to retort when Molly cut him off, “Boys, please” She said, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead from the cooking she had done.

Removing her mittens, she instructed Ron and Harry to help help Fred up the stairs so he could get ready, before beckoning George over, “Fred’s potions just ran out this afternoon. Why don’t you go to (y/n)’s and get some more?”

“Now?” He asked, eyes trailing over towards the clock, indicating it was at least an hour before Christmas dinner - something he didn’t want to miss.

Molly followed his gaze before rolling her eyes, gently nudging her son out the door, which he made a difficult task by planting his feet firmly on the hardwood floor, “”C’mon, George!”

“I was just joking! Jeez” George laughed, finally making it easier for his mum to nudge him out. He stopped, turning to face his mother with a smirk playing on his lips, “It is quite admirable you’ve finally distinguished me Fred, mum! Tell me, did my missing ear give it away or the lack of wheelchairs?”

“I swear to Godric, George Weasley-”

“And I’m out” He rushed out the door, into the street while laughing, managing to grab his oat from the rack along the way. He trudged down the snowy street, giving his mother a thumbs up when she reminded him to invite (y/n) over to join them for dinner.

The walk to the store was shorter now, almost familiar to him as he’d been sent out there a few times after his brother had arrived home. He smiled upon seeing it, glistening with Christmas lights even if the store had been closed for the day.

He made his way to the back entrance, where (y/n) had given him a spare key, allowing him to walk into her home freely. Entering the back entrance to your potions lab, before ascending the stairs the led to your home.

He hesitated at first whether he should knock on your door or not, remembering the incident that had occurred just two days ago when he did - which led to you leaving your potion boiling for far too long, and... well, I guess you know what happened next.

His smile dropped, however, upon opening the door. As he walked in, he realized only the lights in the kitchen were on, bleeding over the kitchen island to partly illuminate the living room. There was a potion brewing in the coffee table, and beside the cauldron were vials of what George recognized were Fred’s potions.

Suddenly, he heard faint sobbing in the kitchen. Seeing noone there, he was quick to rush inside, scared that anything happened to (y/n), only to see you on the floor, leaning against the back of the island across the oven.

There was something baking inside, which George could only think to be pie, but he shook his curiosity off to kneel beside you, opening his arms. Before you knew it, you wrapped your arms around him, him doing the same to you, crying on his shoulder as you mumbled incoherent things muffled by his coat.

“(y/n)?” He said softly after a few minutes, pulling away to get a good look at you. Your eyes were rimmed red and your cheeks were flushed, a clear sign you’ve been crying moments before he had even arrived. “What’s wrong, love? Please tell me”

He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the last few tears that escaped your eyes with his thumbs as you dry-sobbed. “Here,” He stood, fetching a glass from the cupboards and filled it with water, handing it to you as soon as he sat back down. 

He watched as you slowly gulped it down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest as soon as you finished. “What’s wrong, (y/n)?”

“It’s- it’s nothing really” You took shaky breaths to calm yourself, “You shouldn’t see me like this” You laughed softly, trying to clear the air which felt a little too heavy a little while ago. You looked up at him with a smile, only to see that his worried expression hadn’t left his face, “It’s nothing, George, really”

“How is it nothing, (y/n)?” He asked, “You rarely ever cry-”

“We literally just met a week ago, Gee” You joked, nudging his waist, “Besides, just because I don’t cry in front of you doesn’t mean I am incapable of doing so”

“I know,” He sighed, “I just don’t like seeing you sad s’all. I mean, you saved my brother’s life - you made my family and I happy, but here you are...”

“Looking like an outright mess?” You offered, earning a playful glare. 

Silence passed between the two of you as you both watched the pie slowly bake in the oven, catching a whiff of the blueberries you had put in there as they cook. “I miss my brother - it’s my first Christmas without him, you know?”

He nodded. 

“Merlin, the last time I saw him alive, we just finished arguing because he wouldn’t let me join in the fight” You laughed, “I called him a git and threw in some very colorful words and you know what he did? He stared at me - only for a few seconds - before laughing and hugging me. He told me he’d find me after it’s over but I found him- I found and he wasn’t moving and- and-”

George hugged you to his chest as you start crying again, allowing you to let all of it out because he knows - he knows how hard it is to keep everything to yourself, to not have anyone be there for you when you feel like you’re drowning in your tears.

He had been that person as well, for months. He sat in heir shared flat above the store, crying in the living room after coming home from visiting Fred, slowly losing hope day by day when his vitals weren’t improving, worrying constantly about how they’re gonna pay the bills, how his dad was doing since he basically lives in his office now to get overtime pay.

But the difference was, he had a family to go to - he had Bill and Charle, even Percy, to cry to. A family who visits him whenever he doesn’t make contact with anyone for weeks.

He jumped at the sound of a Ding! from the oven, you pulling away from him as soon as you heard it. With a sniffle, you stood up from the floor and grabbed a napkin from the island, blowing into it before shooting it into the bin. George followed suit soon after you, silently watching you pull the pie from the oven.

With a smile, you turned back towards George, “I’ll get ready, yeah? Wait for me here”

You were the center of praise as you joined the Weasleys in the dining room, everyone raising their glasses to you in a toast for helping Fred recover after everything. Beside you, George smiled, patting your knee in thanks as he used his other hand to raise his own glass.

With that, you moved into your room. disappearing behind the door, leaving George alone. 

____

As the dinner ensued, the table was filled with chatter. Hermione, who sat across you, asking about how much research you had to do to be able to get the potion right, to which you replied by jumping into the story of how you managed to burn off your full head of hair after trying it out.

This reminded Fred of the times he and George would lock themselves in their room, managing to burn off their hair as well trying to come up with something new to add to their products.

Finally, when dinner finished and everyone retreated in the living room to exchange presents, George invited you to take a walk with him outside, just to get a breath of fresh air since majority of the questions asked were directed towards you and your work.

“You family is something, no?” you remarked as Charlie’s laugh made its way into your ears, even if you stood meters away from the home, “They’re very lovely - especially Bill”

“Bill, huh?” He teased, wriggling his eyebrows at you, making your cheeks warm up.

“No!” You slapped his shoulder lightly, “He just- he reminds me of my brother”

“Well, he is the ideal older brother figure” George agreed.

You hummed in response as your eyes settled onto the night sky, marvelling at the stars. You didn’t notice, but he was staring at you as you kept your gaze above, entertaining the warmth he felt in his stomach and chest as he watched you.

“Hey, (y/n)” He cleared his throat, cheeks feeling hot now as well.

“Hmm?” You looked at him. He was fumbling with his fingers as he kept a respectable distance away from you.

“Do you... want to go out sometimes? Just us?”

“Funny, I was actually hoping Bill would come along” You joked, smiling as he gave you a flat look, “Really, though? Me? You know I’ve got a lot of baggage, are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“(y/n),” He chuckled, grabbing both of your hands, “I literally screamed at you the first time we met, do you think you’re the only one with baggage?”

You rolled your eyes, your smile now turning into a full-on grin, “So? Do you?”

“Yes,” You replied.

He grinned as he pulled you back into his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace as you stood in the middle of their garden. When he pulled away, he was still grinning, almost squealing in excitement as he hugged you again.

“George” You laughed, “Come on, let’s go back inside!”

“You just want to see Bill” You glared at him, “I’m kidding! I’ve got a gift for you waiting in there anyway”

“I hope it’s Bill”

“Oh, sod off (y/n)”

You laughed as he pulled you back towards the Burrow, your hand in his as you smiled to yourself, knowing that somewhere up there, your brother is happy you have someone to consider as family even with him gone.

[accioromione]

The Proposal

Ron’s heart was pounding. He was holding Hermione’s hand and was praying that she hadn't noticed just how clammy he was. Today was going to be the day he proposed to the girl he loved. 

He had bought the ring two months ago, he had saved for it for five months, he knew Hermione didn’t care about how much the ring cost, but he did. He wanted to show her that he could give her the best, and that he could be the best, because she deserved the best. Ron wasn't particularly shy with being romantic, ever since they had gotten together he rather enjoyed taking her on spontaneous dates, or doing relationship like things. It was never too much because they were such good friends, that was the beauty of their relationship. They could be sappy and mushy one moment and have a light hearted or serious conversation the next. 

He had told her that he wanted to go on a night stroll along the beach. Little did Hermione know what he had in store for her. He had set up balls lights around the beach, along with little notes that left a trail, the ending of these notes led the the destination of her proposal. 

‘This is nice, it’s so beauiful outside too’ said Hermione resting her head on Ron’s shoulder. 

Ron took in the sweet scent of her hair, and looked at the night’s sky. Hermione was right, not a cloud was in sight, the dark sky was covered with stars and the crescent moon shined bright. A light breeze touched Ron’s face and the North Sea made a soothing sound as its waves moved in a synchronized motions. Ron took the good weather as a good omen that tonight was indeed the right night, he smiled to himself as he thought not how Hermione would reprimand him about believing in good omens. 

‘It is nice, so rare to not see clouds,’ Ron noted in regard to the clear sky. They kept walking and Ron took a deep breath, with a few more steps they would reach the balls of light. 

‘Oh wow,’ Hermione sighed as they saw balls of light floating in the sky. This was it, there was no going back now. Ron took his hand from hers, and she looked at him, the light reflected in her eyes. 

‘Ron, did you-?’ She asked looking again at the lights floating around, Ron smiled at her. 

‘Don’t forget to look down too,’ Ron said, as Hermione admired the beauty of the lights floating. 

‘Look down?’ Hermione asked, pointing her head towards the floor, and when she did, her eyes came into contact with the rose petals, 

‘Oh Ron-’ sighed Hermione, ‘what’s this?’ She asked bending down to pick up a glowing envolope on the floor, she looked ahead and saw there were more envelopes trailing ahead. 

She opened the envelope and it produced an image in the sky, 

‘Ron wow’ she sighed, looking admiringly as the jet of light shot from he envelope, the image it produced in the sky was a moving image, it first showed he Hogwarts Express, then a club , then a book that said “Nicolas Flamel” on the cover page, then a chess piece, and then a potions set, it lightly faded in the night sky.   

‘Hermione,’ Ron began, now taking her hand to guide her to the next envelope, ‘we have gone through so much together, I’m pretty sure we’re the only people in the world who can say our friendship was thanks to a troll attack.’ 

Hermione laughed, a tear now rolling down her cheek. 

‘Ever since then we’ve been inseparable, going on adventures, defeating dark wizards since the age of 11.’ Ron said, slowly guiding her to the next envelope. They reached the second envelope and it opened, causing another jet of light to stream into the night sky. 

This time the first image that appeared was polyjuice potion, and then the forbidden forrest,  snake, and then a picture of Ron and Hermione in their second year. 

‘When I was 12- I thought I almost lost you, the thought of it was unbearable even then. I thought I my fear of spiders could not be overridden, but my fear of losing you did. From that moment on I knew that you were a special and a vital component in my life and happiness.’ 

Hermione’s tears glistened down her cheeks and Ron now had a tear rolling down from his right eye, he guided her to the next envelope and she numbly followed. Hands trembling she opened it, and another beam of light shot into the night sky, this time the first image that appeared was Crookshanks, and the second image was a time turner and the third image was Ron and Hermione in hogsmeade for the first time. 

‘Our third year was eventful to say the least. We fought about our pets. Mine turned out to be an evil human. The prisoner who escaped Azkaban turned out to be Harry’s godfather, you could time travel, and dementors were all over the place,’ Hermione laughed. 

‘But all I know is that despite all that, when I look at third year- and when I think of a happy memory, it’s me going on that Hogsmeade trip with you.’ Hermione smiled, tears flowing down her face. Ron gently took her hand once more and guided her to the next envelope, she opened it and with a burst of light new images formed in the sky. The first image was the Triwizard cup, the second image was The Great Hall decorated how it had been for the Yule Ball and the third image was Ron and Hermione at the quidditch World Cup. 

‘When I was 14, I experienced jealousy for the first time. I had known you were beautiful, so it did not phase me when I saw you walk down those stairs looking like a princess- I was angry, because I wanted to be by your side,  I wanted to hold your hand, I wanted to dance with you.’ Ron said, and he squeezed her hand. 

‘I was stupid, we can both agree on that,’ said Ron and Hermione smiled and nodded her head, ‘but I was also a bloke who had realized he had fell for his best friend,’ Ron added as he wiped a tear off of Hermione’s cheek. He gently guided her to the next envelope. 

The pictures that erupted was one of Ron and Hermione at grimmauld place, Ginny, Fred, George, and Harry were also in the picture, but Ron and Hermione were sitting right beside each-other. Then a quidditch pitch appeared, then a picture of Dumbledore’s Army, and then a picture of the Ministry of Magic. 

‘By the time I was 15 I had accepted my feelings for you, every time I spent with you I cherished. The moment you kissed me on the cheek, I felt like it was on fire, I felt pathetic. I was head over heels for you Hermione. And then it was getting dark, and we had to start fighting, and we both got hurt, but we both had each-other. Although I was sad you got injured, I just remember being so happy you were okay and it was you by my side at the hospital bed.’ He said as he guided her to the next envelope. 

She opened it and this jet of light produced three images. The first one was a bird, the second one was a box of chocolates and the third one was Dumbledore. 

‘Jealousy got ahold of me when I was 16 again, I was head over heels for you, and I felt like it was over, that you could never love me. That I was never going to be good enough for you. I thought I lost  you, but then I got poisoned, and you were there, by my side, yet again. And I just remember feeling lucky and grateful that I had been poisoned, because it had brought you back. And then the reality of what was happening was all becoming real, and we knew a war was coming. I remember when we were fighting those death-eaters, all I could think was, don’t hurt her.’ Ron grabbed her hand and guided her to the next envelope, no other envelopes laid ahead of it, this was the last one. Compleley in tears, Hermione picked up to open it, and the jet of light shot out, brighter than the previous ones. The first one was a picture of them dancing at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, the second one was the deluminator, the third one Shell Cottage, the fourth one Hogwarts. Then the light faded, but instead of dissapearing completely the last bit of light burst in a fire work and a variety of pictures erupted, all much more recent ones. A picture of Ron and Hermione in hogsmeade again, when he had visited Hermione when she’d returned to Hogwarts, a picture of Ron and Hermione at the burrow, Ron and Hermione last Christmas, Ron and Hermione playing with Teddy, Ron and Hermione building a snowman, Ron and Hermione with Harry and Ginny, and then a ring. 

After the ring appeared the light erupted in fireworks and Ron got down on one knee. 

Hermione was in tears, her hand covering her mouth. 

‘I knew I loved you when I was 17. The thought of losing you, of anyone hurting you, it was unbearable. The moment I left I was sick to my stomach, but the ball of light, it went to my heart to lead me back straight to you.’ He indicated towards the balls of light that surrounded them, ‘You are the love of my life Hermione, I knew I could fight a war, I knew I could battle dark wizards, I knew I could get tortured, and I knew I was willing to die. But not for a moment, was I ever willing to lose you. You have been my comfort, my friend, my everything. I love everything about you Hermione Granger, your beauty, your intelligence, your kindness and your passion. I love the memories we made, and all I want to do is make more. So in saying that ’ Ron said, taking a velvet box from his pocket 

‘Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?’ 

Hermione was crying. She removed her trembling hands from her mouth, and whispered, ‘yes,’ 

‘Brilliant,’ Ron said, grinning with a tear in his eye. He put the ring on her shaking hand and stood up, the moment he did Hermione pulled him down into a deep kiss, he could feel the wetness of her tears on his cheeks. 

‘I can't believe it!’ She squealed when they broke apart, ‘we’re getting married!’ she was smiling so radiantly, and the thought made Ron smile too. This was it, Hermione was his bride-to-be. They had both gone through so much together and now they would be living the rest of their lives together, as husband and as wife. The thought gave Ron a jolt in his stomach, and he leaned down to kiss his fiancee once more. 

[too-attached-to-fiction]

I Know I Can’t Stay Too Long | f.w.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Masterlist here

Word count: 1640

Requested by @kellysimagines​

Request: Hey! Can you make a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader is Hermione's sister and she is coming with them to hunt the Horcruxes and Fred insists her to stay but she doesn't want to because she wants to be with them, and they fight over it and they didn't make up before she left and they are both sad and regret not making up and when they are at Hogwarts, they reunite and they make up? (And Fred doesn't die :) and a cute ending? :)

A/N: I said that it would take me a few days, turns out it only took me a few hours! I actually was referring to my copy of DH while writing this so some of the dialogue is copied from it. I kind of lost track of time and the word count but I’m actually pretty satisfied with the results!

~~~

It felt like you and Fred were going in circles as you argued back and forth. You’d known for a while about Harry’s plans to hunt for the Horcruxes, but it wasn’t until you and Hermione reached the Burrow that things became serious.

You and Hermione had grown up around each other, almost always attached to the hip. You were a half blood, although when you met you were already in control of your magical outbursts. You were one year older than her, after all.

The years came and went, and as soon as Hermione started running with Harry and Ron, you did too. You had promised the Grangers that she’d be safe under her watch, and that was a promise you intended not to break. Even now, you knew it would be safer to hide with the Weasleys. You’d graduated from Hogwarts already, although you planned to help Fred and George with the joke shop before everything. You and Fred had started dating in your fourth year, and by now, Molly had basically groomed you into being a part of the Weasley family. The three of you were the youngest, official Order members, although you stayed behind during the last mission to retrieve Harry. Hermione had asked you to go with them, and she came first, no matter how much Fred tried to convince you otherwise.

Now, you were busy packing your things the night before the wedding, arguing with Fred in between shoving various things into your knapsack.

“She’s my family, Fred.”

“A family friend!” He objected for the umpteenth time in the last half hour. “You don’t need to protect her, she can take care of herself. They don’t call her the brightest witch of her age for nothing!”

“I made a promise-”

“A promise that’s gotten you nearly killed six times already!”

“I’m not leaving her alone with them. They’re barely of age and all three of them wouldn’t know common sense if it hit them like a stack of bricks.”

Upstairs, the Golden Trio listened to you argue with Fred. The two of you had never fought this badly before, and Harry felt the guilt start to rise in his stomach. They were fighting because of him.

Hermione caught the look in Harry’s eyes. “We’re coming. There’s nothing you or Fred can do about it.” She said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s not safe. You’d be safer with me and George.” Fred argued, and you brushed past him to grab your clothes from your trunk.

“What does it matter, Fred? My family got hurt, killed, because I’m a target too. I’m not letting you get hurt if they find me with you.” You sat down on his bed, tears in your eyes. “If I have a choice to increase their chances of saving the Wizarding World, I’ll take it any day if it means keeping you safe.”

“This is complete rubbish.” Fred muttered as he walked out of the room.

You took one glance at the door he’d walked through then back to his wardrobe. You flicked your wand, pulling a few of his shirts from his dresser then quietly closing it.

Tomorrow, you’d leave.

And there was no stopping you.

~~~

When Fred had initially told you about the wedding, you’d daydreamed about dancing with him, peaceful amidst the chaos of the rest of the wizarding world. Instead, you sent him sad glances all night.

Kingsley’s patronus arrived, interrupting the festivities. A ball of blue light swirled around the room before floating to the middle, his voice ringing out.

“The ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead.” You looked at Harry and Hermione with wide eyes, rushing to their side of the room.

“They are coming.” Kingsley’s voice whispered, before the patronus faded and the light returned to the room.

“We have to go.” Harry said, grabbing onto your hand.

“(Y/N)!” You heard Fred shout. You locked eyes with him as Hermione prepared to apparate the four of you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered before you felt a familiar pull in your stomach, the Burrow and Fred fading away within a blink of an eye.

~~~

The Weasleys had only reached out once since the four of you disappeared that night. Arthur sent a talking patronus when you arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Family safe, do not reply, we’re being watched.”

“They’re okay.” You said in disbelief, choking back a sob. Ron seemed to be in the same state you were in, collapsing onto the couch. Hermione followed him, squeezing him tightly.

As time went on and the four of you jumped from place to place, you kept a journal, writing down the places you’d been and what had happened so far. You were sure you were close to dead when the Death Eaters found you, stuck in the Malfoy’s dungeon as prisoners. When Dobby took you out of the Manor, you nearly cried with relief when you spotted Bill and Fleur and their cottage.

“Bill.” You cried, rushing over to the eldest Weasley in tears, collapsing in his arms.

“Fleur, would you mind helping our guests to their rooms? (Y/N), Harry and I will be there shortly.” Bill said, running his hands absentmindedly through your hair.

Bill showed Harry a place to bury Dobby before returning his attention to you.

“You’re safe now,” He promised as you sniffled. “I have good news. It’s going to be okay.”

He led you to the living room, where Fleur was tending to the others.

“What’s the good news?” You asked, wiping your tears away as you sat down next to Bill. If Hermione and Ron noticed, neither said anything.

“They’re all safe, and out of the Burrow. We’re lucky Ginny’s on holiday. If she’d been at Hogwarts, they could have taken her before we reached her, but now we know they’re all safe and accounted for.” Harry stood in the doorway, but you were too tired to care, hanging onto Bill’s words.

“I’ve been getting them all out of the Burrow. Moved them to Muriel’s. The Death Eater’s know Ron’s with you now, and they’re bound to target us-” Bill glanced at Harry, who was opening his mouth, “Don’t apologize. We all knew it was a matter of time, Dad’s been saying so for months. We’re the biggest blood traitor family there is. We had a target on our backs long before you came around. We’ve been protecting them with the Fidelius Charm - Dad and I are the Secret Keepers, and we’ve done it on this cottage too.”

As the others left to talk to Griphook and Ollivander, you looked at Bill. “Has he said anything?”

“He misses you. We’ve all been wondering about your safety.” Bill sighed. “You really did a number on us, (Y/L/N). He’s been regretting everything he said to you, that night. He told me.”

“Bill, can… Can you give this to him, the next time you see him?” You pulled out the journal from your locket, handing it over. “All of the things I want to say to him are here and I don’t want it lost in case…”

Bill squeezed your hand, taking the journal cautiously. “I’ll do it.”

~~~

The hole in the wall in the Room of Requirement opened again behind you, and you nearly screamed when Ginny, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan all climbed out. You’d heard the twins on Potterwatch, but seeing their faces for the first time in nearly a year was relieving as ever.

“Fred.” You gasped out, the two of you meeting in the middle for a long overdue kiss.

“I’ve been so worried about you.” He breathed out, and you smiled.

“Ditto, Weasley.”

As Harry ran off to find the diadem with Luna, and the others waited for the rest of the order, you couldn’t help but cling to Fred.

“I thought you were dead.” He sighed, and you gave him another smile.

“It’ll take more than that to kill me, Freddie.”

When the two returned, all of the remaining Order of the Phoenix members were gathered inside the Room of Requirement with Dumbledore’s Army. You looked around in amazement.

You held Fred’s hand as Harry announced you were fighting, and he squeezed back when Percy reappeared.

“Come on.” You nearly raced out of the room until Fred pulled you back.

“I’m not letting you get away from me this time. We’re sticking together, understand?” You nodded, running off with him and George after giving Harry a curt nod.

Minutes later, you were dueling back to back with Percy, before the back of your neck pricked. Just before the air exploded, you screamed out, “Protego!” The shield glowed around you and Fred, and you refused to let up until the dust settled.

“I’m not losing you that fast.” You breathed out. “Harry, take care of those spiders, will you?” You shouted, pulling Fred and George in another direction, firing hexes and jinxes everywhere as you ran.

The rest of the battle seemed to be a blur to you, even when Voldemort announced Harry was dead. Quickly after, you jumped into battle with Bellatrix. Molly, Ginny, and Hermione all stood by your side.

An hour later, the sun rose. Voldemort had vanished into ash, and you and the other survivors sat at the tables in the Great Hall. You, Fred, and George were all covered in soot and dust, but you couldn’t care less as you squeezed your boyfriend tightly.

“We’re safe.” You mumbled in between kisses, sighing as the adrenaline started to wear off.

“Oi, you’d think with one ear I’d be able to hear less of that sappy rubbish.” George interrupted, and the three of you laughed.

The war was over, and you were together. You survived the end of the world in one piece.

And you couldn’t be happier.

[adenei]

What about Ron grieving Fred and Hermione trying to be there for him but he’s so hurt and can’t deal with his feelings that he tries to push her away? Maybe ANGER 11 and 19? That’d be so great!

Hi, anon! This one became way longer than I was intending. Thanks for the ask, and I hope you enjoy :)

*****************************

Leave me alone & Get away from me.

Hermione was helping with chores around the Burrow. They’d only been back a couple of days, and things were very quiet around the usually bustling home. Mr. Weasley and Percy had returned to the Ministry to help with the reestablishment of wizarding England, and they were usually gone from sun up to sun down. Bill and Fleur would come by for dinner each night, but most of the time they returned to Shell Cottage. George remained holed up in his old room, while Mrs. Weasley switched between spending time taking care of chores and spending hours in her room, unable to be consoled. 

Today was one of those days where Mrs. Weasley couldn’t be found, so Hermione took it upon herself to keep busy and help out. Harry had a meeting with Kingsley, and was planning to go to Hogwarts after, in an attempt to help Professor McGonagall in whatever way he could. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was because he was avoiding Ginny, or the guilt from Weasleys over Fred’s death. 

As for Ron, he’d been making himself scarce as well, especially when Harry would leave. It felt like he was avoiding her, and to be quite honest, it hurt. Hermione had kissed him in the Room of Requirement, but then with everything that had happened, it hadn’t been discussed or brought up. Hermione was refusing to bring it up because she’d initiated it, and every passing day continued to be a dead end. So, Hermione continued to distract herself so she didn’t have to think about why Ron wouldn’t talk to her.

The chores list seemed to take less time to do today, so Hermione found herself sitting on the sofa, attempting to concentrate on Pride and Prejudice, one of her favorite classics. She’d always fallen back on muggle literature when she needed a break. Thirty minutes had gone by, and Hermione had barely completed a single chapter. Her mind kept wandering to Ron. 

Clearly, waiting it out wasn’t working. She slammed the book shut, and made her way to his room. When she reached the landing, she stopped abruptly and took a deep breath. Anger isn’t going to solve anything right now. If you walk in there yelling at him, you won’t get anywhere. 

She closed her eyes and knocked softly on the door. “Ron?”

“Leave me alone,” he responded sullenly. His words hit her like an arrow to the heart. The only time he’d ever brushed her off was when they were in a horrible row. 

She opened the door and entered quietly, despite his earlier protestation. He was laying on his side on the bed, facing the wall. She walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed.. “I was wondering if we could talk,” she said.

“No. Hermione, go away.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” She hesitantly reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me..”

He shrugged her hand off, and finally turned around and sat up. “Hermione, please, get away from me. I want to be alone.” 

Her eyes welled up at his rejection. She knew Fred’s death had taken a toll on him, but she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t even speak to her. Hermione got up and walked towards his door again, but stopped when she was in the doorway. If they still couldn’t figure out how to communicate to each other after everything, she refused to let it be her fault.

“After everything we’ve been through, you’re really pushing me away? I know you’re hurting, Ron, but nothing is going to get better if you continue to wallow in it. I don’t appreciate being shut out.” She walked back into the room, her voice rising the more that she spoke. “So, no, I’m not leaving. You’ll have to make me if you really want me gone so badly.”

Ron finally turned to look at her and she noticed his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Had he been crying? “You didn’t lose your brother, Hermione. I watched him die, right in front of me. Do you know how fucked up that is? You don’t get to tell me how to feel!” 

“I’m not! You’ve barely even looked at me since we got back from Hogwarts. I just want to know if I did something wrong. I’m trying to be here for you, but you won’t let me!” Hermione could feel her temper rising. Neither of them realized how loud they were getting.

“It’s nothing you did, Hermione, just drop it! You wouldn’t understand.” He couldn’t tell her. Ron knew it sounded barmy to even think about, but he’d felt so guilty of all the happiness he’d felt up until the point Fred had gotten hit by the curse. Between Hermione kissing him and Percy making a joke, it all seemed so incredibly perfect for a moment before his world changed forever. And now he couldn’t even look at Hermione without thinking of Fred, and wasn’t it all just so incredibly ironic? He just wanted to sort through it all on his own before finally talking to her, but as per usual, Hermione’s impatience had gotten the best of her.

“Because you’re not giving me a chance to!”

“Oi!” they heard from a few stairs below. Hermione turned to see George bounding up the stairs behind her. “In,” he said as she re-entered Ron’s room. She followed her in and shut the door, casting a silencing charm on it. 

Then, he rounded on the two of them. “I don’t know what the hell is going on between the two of you, but last time I checked you’re both of age, so maybe try shutting and silencing the door. While I find your rows entertaining, Mum doesn’t need to hear it right now.” 

George turned around to leave them to it, but before he shut the door behind him, he glanced back behind his shoulder and said, “If you’ll be so kind as to let me know when you two’ve sorted things out, Fred and I had a bet regarding when you’d pull your heads out your arses about your feelings for each other. If he won, I’d like to pay him back before the funeral.” With that, he continued on down the stairs, presumably back to his room..

“What did he mean, ‘they had a bet on us?’” Hermione asked.

Ron sat down on his bed and ran his hands through his hair. He rested his elbows on his knees. “I think we both know what he meant. Unless, you only kissed me out of your love of the house elves?” 

“Er, no, there was more to it than that,” Hermione confessed.

Ron looked at her carefully. “How?”

“Well, you said it yourself...I believe the words were ‘now or never?’ I didn’t want to go into that battle not having...well, done that.” Hermione still wasn’t feeling confident enough to lay all her cards out there. 

“Er, yeah..”

“Unless...would you have kissed me back if you didn’t think we were going to die that night?” Hermione hesitated a bit, unable to look him in the eye. 

“Are you mad? Of course I would have! Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to say sod everything and go for it? Since the end of sixth year! That bloody mission…” Ron picked at the comforter on his bed.

“R-really?” Hermione squeaked. She watched him closely, wishing he would look at her.

“Y-yeah. I thought you knew,” he said, still avoiding her eyes.

“I- I hoped.” He finally looked up at her words. Hermione’s heart was beating hard against her chest. “You know, there’s no mission stopping you now...if you wanted-”

Ron didn’t hesitate as he stood up and closed the gap between himself and Hermione. One hand cupped her face as the other settled at the nape of her neck, fingers in her hair. His lips met hers urgently, making up for all the time they’d lost dancing around each other for who knew how long. 

When they finally broke apart, Hermione asked him, “So, does that mean?”

“Yes. As long as you want..?” he asked her.

Hermione nodded eagerly. 

Then Ron smiled, something Hermione hadn’t seen in days. “Leave it to Fred and George to get us sorted.”

Hermione chuckled at his words. “Do you think we should inform him?”

“Probably. It was nice to see him out of his room,” Ron said. Hermione nodded as she broke the silencing charm and took his hand as she led him down to George’s room. She knocked on the door. 

“Yeah?” she heard him call. They opened the door, and Ron spoke.

“Uh, we just wanted to let you know that we got things sorted. Thanks to you.” 

“It’s about time. When?” George asked.

“What do you mean ‘when?’” Ron countered.

“Was it really today? This is a time sensitive matter.”

Hermione chimed in then, “Well, if you’re basing it on us officially together, today. First kiss was before the Battle at Hogwarts.”

George stared at her, gobsmacked. “Fucking hell, he always knew it’d be impending doom. Hear that, Fred? You called it! I should’ve known. And I thought the bloody book would move things along quicker..”

“Book?” Hermione looked at Ron. “What book?”

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it!” Ron said quickly. The narrowing of Hermione’s eyes told him that this would not be the end of that conversation.

George eyed the two of them before chuckling at the interaction. “Whoops, sorry, Ron. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to figure out how to pay up on this bet.”

Hermione continued on down the stairs, when George stopped Ron before he followed her.

“I’m really happy for you guys. Fred would be, too.”

“Er, thanks. Reckon I’d be lost without the interference. Never know what to do when it comes to her.”

“Well, this is only the beginning, so I reckon you go follow her for a start.”

“Right. Thanks, George,” Ron shut George’s door as he felt loads lighter. He knew then that he’d heal in time. They all would, and Hermione was right. He shouldn’t wallow in the pain, but find the bright spots that were still there. After all, it’s what Fred would have done.

[bernadineisreborn]

It’s You

Fred Weasley x Reader

A/N: Should I be writing Reality? Yes. Did I have a few dreams about Fred and George and decide to write them instead? Yes. Is the Yule Ball overdone in HP fanfic? Yes. But here you go anyway. Please, stay safe amid corona and if you are protesting!

Warnings: Alcohol is consumed. Sex is referenced. Kisses happen. 

Word count: 8.6k, my longest ever for one post I think!

My Masterlist

While you and George were easily best friends, you and Fred Weasley had a more complicated history.

It all started when you were younger.

Your father was a wizard, but the nature of his relationship with your mother was short-lived. Really short lived. They met at a small pub in London, where your mother worked. Your father must have had one-time business on the other side of the brick wall behind the Leaky Cauldron, because your mother spent the night with him and never saw him again.

She didn’t mind though. She was ecstatic when she found out she was pregnant, never mind her being single. Raising you as alone was, understandably, very difficult, but she was never one to give up. She was clueless to the secret world that your father had belonged to. Until, one day, you sneezed and broke every glass in the room.

You were six at the time, and your mother had no idea what to do. You had displayed small signs of magic before, but those could be written off as coincidence. This glass-shattering sneeze, however, could not.

It was a week later that you summoned a cupcake into your chubby fist while out shopping. Your mother was horrified. Luckily, there was another witch in the store.

“Well, wasn’t that lovely!” she exclaimed, her red-orange hair falling in front of her face as she bent down to your level, “But best not let the muggles see, hmm?” She looked to your mum, then, a small smile on her face. You mother’s face was still frozen, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. The red-headed woman was smart enough to notice that your mum was, in fact, one of those very muggles. She had absolutely no idea of the magical world, and no idea how to care for a daughter who was summoning cupcakes at will.

She smiled, and extended a hand, “Oh dear, I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Molly.”

Your mum smiled faintly, “I’m M/N.”

Molly hummed, her expression nothing but understanding as she looked to you, “And who’s this young dear?”

“I’m Y/N!” you said, taking a bite from the cupcake.

Molly laughed, “Your daughter seems quite special! Don’t worry, they usually start around this age, it’s perfectly normal. Come now, follow me.” The woman ushered you and your mother toward the door, leaving her groceries abandoned in the aisle. After all, Molly Weasley knows to help a wizard in need, and you and your mum were very clearly in need.

Once outside, she attempted to explain herself. “I am in town today dropping off some things for Arthur, my husband. He works at the Ministry, you see. I’ve left the children at home, but Bill’s old enough to watch the others now,” she glanced at you, “How old is she?”

Your mother’s voice was hoarse, though she wasn’t entirely untrusting of the strange, kind woman, “She’s six.”

“Ah, yes, what a darling age. I’ve got a pair of twins who are just that!” She glanced at you again, “Now, that wasn’t the first time Y/N’s made something like this happen, is it?”

----

An hour later, you and your mother were sitting in Molly’s home. Molly was explaining things to your mother, who had taken out a pen and paper and was writing diligent notes.

Molly had introduced you to her children before she had sat down with your mother. Much to your dismay, most of them were boys. There was Ginny, of course, but she was only three.

You were led outside by the adorable tot, to where the two oldest boys had picked up broomsticks and started flying around on them. You were amazed. Ginny, unfortunately, didn’t seem to know how the brooms were flying. Begrudgingly, you made your way to the other four children, who were sitting in the grass and cheering their brothers on. Well, three of them were. One of them, an older boy with horn-rimmed glasses, was reading a book.

You tapped on the nearest shoulder, “Excuse me.”

They turned to you. “Want to watch them play quidditch with us?” asked two of the boys in perfect unison. Their red hair was just as flame-like as their mother’s.

You giggled and sat, “Sure. What’s quidditch?”

Their eyes turned wide at this. Again, they responded together, “Only the greatest sport ever invented!”

----

Thus, your destiny was set. Every Sunday, you visited the Weasley household, where your mother learned everything there was to know about magic, Arthur Weasley learned everything he could about your mother’s “fascinating” muggle life, and you became fast friends with the twins.

Both twins, in fact.

Fred, George, and yourself were inseparable troublemakers, spending every second of time with each other to plan your next great escapade.

And so things continued until your fourth year of Hogwarts.

You expected the school year to start as the last three had, a bit of troublemaking and a lot of fun with your two favorite boys.

But things were different. Awkward.

Fred was, suddenly, funnier and taller and more handsome. George was, too. But it was Fred that filled your 14-year-old stomach with simultaneous dread and excitement whenever you spotted him walking your way.

It was fine, though. You were keeping yourself in check. Until one night, in the Gryffindor common room, you were playing a wizarding version of hide and seek.

George was appointed the “seeker,” so you, Fred, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan, and the other involved Gryffindors dispersed. You had been wandering the corridor for a few minutes when you heard something.

You froze, hoping on everything holy that it wasn’t Filch or Mrs. Norris or Peeves or the Bloody Baron.

A freckled hand wrapped over your mouth, muffling your startled scream, and spun you around. Fred was standing in front of you, smiling, “Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s only me.”

He removed his hand, and you smiled too, at ease. His smile was so damn contagious and handsome and—

“What do you say?”

You refocused your eyes, which had gone hazy on a freckle near the corner of Fred’s mouth, “Hmm?”

“Honestly, I said, do you want to hide together? Two heads are better than one, I reckon.”

You nodded, and he tugged you along. You walked carefully, peeking around corners and tiptoeing as you went.

Fred wasn’t being quite as quiet as you would have liked, and he was known to get caught, so you shoved at him, “Hey, you big git, do you think you could be any louder?”

He arranged a faux puzzled expression, “Louder? Hmm, yeah, I think I could.” He started stomping his feet and whistling; the sound echoed through the empty corridors. He spun to walk backwards and maintain eye contact with you as he did.

You rolled your eyes, “Ha-ha. Very mature, Fred. I’m sorry I don’t want to lose.”

“Mature? You’re playing hide-and-seek!” He poked at your face.

You swatted him away, “It’s not muggle hide and seek! There’s plenty of danger. We’re in a castle, and it’s dark, and there are ghosts, and there is Filch,” you frowned at him, “And anyway, so are you!”

He grinned, “You’re so competitive. You should try out for quidditch.”

“You know just as well as I do that I can barely fly.”

His ginger eyebrows furrowed in thought, “True.” Then, his smile returned, “Maybe we could let you ride on the back of my broom and kick at people who pass us.”

You laughed, too, at that ridiculous image.

Just then, Fred backed into a display case, making a rather thunderous sound.

“Well, that ought to alert Georgie. Follow me.” Fred dashed around a few corners, before clambering into a small closet. You entered after him, obviously out of breath from the run.

The closet was even more cramped than it looked from the outside, and Fred read your expression as you squished yourself against him. “Merlin, if we’re going to try you out for the team, you’re going to need to start going for a jog every now and again.”

You punched him as well as you could in the tight space.

“Yes! That’s the spirit, Y/N! Now, you just need to be able to balance.” He mimed you sitting on the back of a broomstick, punching at air.

You laughed in spite of yourself.

It was then that you realized your face was entirely too close to Fred’s. He seemed to notice in the same instant, because for all of his never-ending jokes and your unrelenting teasing, you were both silent.

Finally, he spoke up, his voice a whisper, “Do you think he’ll find us?” If you didn’t know better, you’d think Fred’s eyes were locked on your lips, but it was dark and you were probably mistaken.

“Probably,” you replied, just as quiet, “Eventually.” You shifted a little, uncomfortable, and ended up, somehow, even closer to Fred than you were before.

George burst in then, looking rather triumphant.

“Fred! Y/N! Found you…” he glanced between you, noting your position, “Were you two about to snog?”

Maybe you had been about to, maybe you hadn’t. But you pushed Fred roughly away and stepped out of your hiding place. “Ew, no. Fred’s a git. The cupboard was just small.”

You had no way of knowing how your words stung Fred, who brushed his hand through his carrot top hair and said, “Yeah? Well at least I can stay on a broomstick long enough to get five feet in the air!”

You scoffed and followed them down the hall, back through the portrait hole, “Terrible comeback, Weasley.” You turned up your nose at him, “And not even true.”

Fred laughed. “You’re right, it’s closer to ten.”

“Hey!”

----

Every time you thought about the incident after that, your cheeks grew hot of their own accord. You were sure your feelings for Fred were one sided. After all, you were clumsy and had known him since you were kids. He probably thought of you like a sister.

So, in a classic attempt to hide your feelings, you started taking every opportunity to get on Fred’s nerves. By your 6thyear, your actions had morphed your relationship so much, that what you and Fred had was only a shadow of your former friendship. It pained you, yes, but you couldn’t risk straining your relationship with both of the twins because of idiotic teenaged hormones.

“Miss L/N, if you could please direct your attention to the front of the classroom, it would be appreciated,” drawled Snape.

You flushed, your head snapping to Snape, who was explaining Golpalott’s Third Law at the front of the Potion’s classroom. You had been staring at Fred’s side profile across the lab table, daydreaming a bit. Now, both Fred and George, who were sitting next to each other and across from you and Angelina, were looking at you.

“Sorry, Professor,” you mumbled, and the twins snickered.

Angelina poked you, her features pulled into a loving, teasing smirk. She scribbled quickly onto a corner of her parchment, ripped it off, and passed it to you: “Thinking about pulling someone into an empty hallway and snogging them to death, dear Y/N?”

If it was possible, your cheeks burned even hotter. You glanced to Fred, but he was dutifully watching the lecture, if a bit bored looking. You grabbed the note, “ANGELINA!!! Please, spare me! L”

You slid it over to her. She laughed under her breath and began scribbling, “Maybe you ought to watch us practice today??? Might help visualize those fantasies???”

Before you could take it back and write to her just how absurd she was being, and that you had been thinking about nothing of the sort, the scrap of parchment was snatched by Fred.

His eyebrows raised as he read the note. You prepared for him to laugh, to say ‘Finally! I knew you were in love with me! Ha!’ But, he just frowned and turned away. George grabbed the paper next, and when he read it, he shot you a look. George definitely knew how you felt about Fred. He was your best friend, and he had caught you gazing dreamily Fred’s way quite a few times, though you had always denied anything he accused you of. You shrugged, trying to play it off like nothing.

“Miss L/N! What about Weasley is so interesting that you think yourself above my lecture?”

You shrunk into your seat, “Nothing. It won’t happen again, Professor.”

----

After Potions, you gathered your bags and slunk shamefully after Fred, George, and Angelina in the halls.  Technically, because of the Triwizard Tournament, there were no quidditch games or practices. But, some of the Gryffindor team was meeting up to practice when time allowed, to stay in shape for next season. Angelina, Fred, and George were on the team, so of course, you spent the practices with them, watching them fly, doing homework, etc.

When you had gathered at the Pitch, you began feeble attempts at writing a Charms essay. Mostly, though, you were distracted by your friends. Angelina really was a great flyer, she was dodging almost every bludger George sent her way, and Fred was… sigh.

“Oi! L/N! Want to come play for a bit? We need one more to make it even!” called George.

You shrugged, “Sure! As long as I can be on defense!”

Though you still struggled, your flying skills had made a significant improvement since your fourth year, due to flying lessons from your friends, which were motivated by Fred’s (unfortunately accurate) teasing.

A few minutes later, you were hovering uneasily around the three rings on your team’s side. George, your teammate, was darting around with Fred and Angelina on the other side of the pitch. You zoned out as you watched them. Fred’s shirt was flying up a bit in the wind, a hint of his abdomen on display, and you were trying very hard not to stare. Not that it mattered. From here, he wouldn’t notice if you admired him a bit, would he?

Fred swung his bat, the bludger aimed at George. At the last second, though, his gaze turned toward you, your eyes locked with his, and his bat swung a bit too far.

Suddenly, the bludger was coming your way, far too quickly for you to move.

When it hit your stomach full force, you grunted, but managed to keep your grip on the broom’s wooden handle. Then, you vomited your breakfast onto the field, dozens of yards below you.

----

“I said, I’m fine!” you exclaimed. Fred was the first to swoop onto the grass after you had. You were dry heaving and trying to hold Fred off. The last thing you needed was for him to watch you puke. “I’m not hurt, it just hit me in the stomach.”

“Yeah, I saw that part, didn’t I?” he scoffed, though you could tell he felt a little guilty from the way he was hovering over you.

“Fred!” you groaned, “Please, just give me a minute! I’m perfectly fine.” You groaned as you dry heaved again, your puke reflex fully triggered, “Why do you care anyway?” you asked, under your breath.

“What?”

You held up a finger to him, gesturing for him to wait as you dry heaved again, and then stood up. “I said, why do you care anyway?” You narrowed your eyes, “Were you trying to hit me?”

His guilty expression turned incredulous, “What? Are you barking mad? Of course not!”

You shrugged and crossed your arms, “Well, I saw you look at me while you were swinging and it seemed like you were.”

He blushed, “I was only looking at you because you were trying to distract me! Trying to help George win!”

“For Merlin’s sake, how was I distracting you? I wasn’t even moving!”

His blush deepened, “I don’t know!” he sputtered, his eyes darting over you, “Your shirt is too bright!”

You were furious, and he was getting in your personal space. Your shirt was, in fact, the standard Gryffindor burgundy, and definitely not bright. “My WHAT?” At this point, George and Angelina had landed their brooms as well, and were taking tentative steps your way as you pushed at Fred’s chest, “Fred Weasley, you are the absolute WORST—”

You were suddenly being restrained by two lanky arms—George’s—and dragged away.

“Alright, I think that’s enough of that lover’s quarrel for one day, don’t you, Angelina?” George quipped, guiding you back to the castle, “I’ll take Y/N back to the common room and make sure she’s okay, let’s say we meet in the Great Hall for dinner?”

Angelina nodded, and before you knew it you were being led through the halls of Hogwarts to 6th year Gryffindor boy’s dormitories.

“George, he hates me! I just know it!”

“Quit being so dramatic, woman, he doesn’t hate you. You just have a talent for getting on each other’s nerves.” He sat you on his bed, forcing you down by the shoulders, and went to his trunk.

“He aimed that bludger at me!”

“He definitely did not aim at you, he was probably just…” he trailed off, speaking under his breath.

“Probably just what?”

“I don’t know,” he was rummaging haphazardly through his and Fred’s trunks, “He was probably just distracted!”

You gasped, growing angry at your favorite twin, “You’re taking his side? I should have known—”

He stopped you, “I’m not taking his side,” he held up the purple end of a puking pastille, “Here, take this.”

You swallowed the gummy, and instantly, all of your queasiness vanished. “Thanks,” you muttered.

“I wish you two would just kiss and make up,” said George, who had sat next to you on the mattress, “It’d make things a whole lot easier for Angelina and me.”

Your cheeks flamed, “Like I want that to happen.”

George rolled his eyes, “Come on, Y/N. You can’t lie to me.” He nudged your shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows. “I know all.”

Your blush deepened, but you laughed, “For Merlin’s sake, I knew your ego was inflated beyond repair, but I hardly think three OWLs qualifies one as omniscient.”

George and you were near cackling a few minutes later, and you were feeling very glad to have him to cheer you up, when Fred entered.

He stopped in the doorway, staring at the two of you as your laughter faded, his expression stormy, “Sorry to interrupt.” He grabbed something from his trunk, and slammed the door on his way out.

George grimaced, “Doesn’t look like he’ll be too happy with me later,” he said, his eyes locked on the closed door.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused, “Why do you say that?”

George turned back to you, an easy smile replacing the grimace, “No reason, love.” He stood up, “Come on, let’s go to dinner.”

----

In the Great Hall, you sat in between George and Angelina, as usual. Fred was sat on George’s other side. He had barely looked at you as you came in. Rude, you thought, He could have at least apologized.

The conversation between the Gryffindor girls was as it had been all of the other meals recently: gossip about the Yule Ball. Some Ravenclaw girl had been asked by a boy from Durmstrang, Alicia Spinnet informed you. Neither you nor Angelina had been asked yet, though you were hoping you would be soon.

Ideally, of course, you’d be asked by Fred, who would confess that he’d loved you this whole time, and that he wanted nothing more than to dance the night away at a romantic Christmas-themed ball. Of course, currently, you were mad at him. He’d need to apologize first.

You’d be alright with anyone, so long as you didn’t have to go alone. Not that it really mattered. Worst case scenario, you’d strut into the Ball with Angelina, both of you dateless, but looking good enough that all of the boys who’d brought dates abandoned them to dance with you.

You nudged George, “Hey. Are you planning on asking anyone to the Ball?”

He met your eyes and shrugged, barely chewing a hunk of roast before swallowing. “Depends. Are you going with anyone?” He nudged you back and winked.

You were laughing, well aware that he was kidding, when George was shoved into you by Fred, who looked at you very seriously, and then looked at George. There seemed to be some sort of twin telepathy because before you knew it, George was apologizing and Fred was turning away, his shoulders hunched.

You nudged George again, more subtle this time, and whispered, “What was that all about?”

He shrugged and whispered back, “Freddie here is in a sour mood. He hasn’t got a date yet.”

You shot him a look, “Neither do you, George.” Just then, Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory strolled into the Great Hall, arm in arm, looking very pleased with each other, rosy blushes dusting both of their cheeks. You sighed and put your chin in your hand as you watched them walk by, “And neither do I.”

You sat for a moment, thinking about George’s joking proposition to you. He and you had no feelings for each other, you were sure. In fact, you were relatively positive that he had a crush on Angelina. You were also pretty sure that these feelings, should they ever be expressed, would be returned. They would make a cute couple.

Anyway, it wouldn’t be so bad to go to the Ball with George. He was one of your best friends, he was funny, he was chivalrous. He would be a good date. Maybe I’ll ask him to go with me, as friends, you thought, if neither of us finds anyone else.

“Excuse me, Miss L/N?”

You turned, and behind you was a handsome Beauxbatons student, in his blue uniform. “Erm, hello. How can I help you?”

His smile grew, and you were vaguely aware that the entire Gryffindor table was watching the exchange. Your heartbeat sped up.

He eyed the table, apparently also noticing the attention on you two, “I was hoping you would like to chat privately for a minute? In the courtyard, maybe?”

Your cheeks grew hot, and Angelina shoved you out of your seat, speaking for you, “Yes, of course! She’d love to!”

You smiled at him, and turned back to your friends. George shot you a thumbs up, and Angelina was grinning. Fred’s mood, however, showed no improvement.

“All right, yeah, I’ll go.” He gestured for you to walk ahead of him, and together, you walked  out of the Great Hall.

“Miss L/N,” he addressed you again, holding out a polite hand, “My name is Louis, it is a pleasure to introduce myself formally.”

You took his hand, and instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on your knuckles. Your face was flaming, “Erm, yeah. I’ve seen you around. You can just call me Y/N.”

He laughed lightly, “Okay then, Y/N,” you were now in the courtyard, and there was a light snow falling. You shivered, and he handed you his cloak, “Please, stay warm. How are you?”

You took the cloak gratefully, “I’m okay, I—

Before you could get another word out, the courtyard was enveloped in a blinding blackness. You panicked a bit, reaching your arms out to feel for something solid to hold on to, and soon found a pair of outstretched arms. Assuming they were Louis’, you grabbed on for dear life, and allowed yourself to be dragged back into Hogwarts.

When you were out of the blackness, you scoffed, watching it disappear behind you, “I’m sorry, Louis. That must have been my friend, George. He probably thought it would be—” You turned, and were surprised to see Fred standing next to you, and not Louis. “—funny,” you finished. “Fred? What are you…” You looked back out to the courtyard, where Louis’ form was beginning to reappear. Then, Fred was tugging you toward the moving staircases.

“Fred!” You shoved his arm off of yours. “What are you doing?”

“Leading you back to the Common Room, obviously,” there was a small smirk on his face, as he grabbed your arm and once again tried to guide you.

You yanked your arm away, “I can find my way back perfectly well on my own, thanks!” He shrugged, and started walking. Despite yourself, you followed. “Why in Merlin’s name did you do that?”

His smirk returned, “Do what?”

“Throw that Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder! I was having a nice conversation!”

“Oh that,” he glanced back at you, his smile growing at your infuriated expression, “Louis seemed shady.”

“He seemed WHAT?” You were seething at this point, “Fred, I think he was going to ask me to the Ball,” much to your dismay, your tone came out more disappointed than angry.

At this, Fred’s expression shifted into one of mild annoyance, “Don’t worry, I’m sure someone else will ask you. Louis, though, was up to no good.” Fred looked back to you again, “He probably just wanted to sleep with you.”

You stopped in your tracks, “As if that is the only reason he’d be interested in taking me to the Ball? As if I have nothing else going for me?” Fred had gone too far this time.

He stopped too, and cringed, “That is not what I meant.”

You held your nose up, “Well, that’s what it sounded like.”

It was quiet for a moment. Fred sighed. “Look, I just have a bad feeling about him. He seems like a right wanker, alright?”

Fred’s expression was genuine, but you couldn’t help yourself, “Louis was being perfectly chivalrous.”

Fred held his hands up, accepting defeat, “Alright, fine. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

You sniffled.

He continued, “And I never apologized earlier, for hitting you with the bludger.” He ruffled the back of his hair with his hand, and the gesture was so very awkward, so sincere, that you found yourself forgiving him far faster than you should. “I didn’t mean to. I’m not sure how it happened.”

After a second of contemplation, you punched his muscled shoulder, your resolve thoroughly broken, “I suppose it’s fine. Not your fault you have terrible aim,” you cracked a smile.

He smiled too, laughing under his breath. For a second, it felt like the old days, when you and Fred could laugh freely and tease each other without starting a war. You felt oddly nostalgic, and before you could fully consider your words, you blurted, “What happened to us?”

His smile faded, and you instantly regretted saying something. His eyes filled with an intensity that you hadn’t seen in them in a while, and you were strangely reminded of the hide-and-seek closet from those years ago.

Before he could reply, Angelina and George rounded the corner, George’s arm slung over Angelina’s shoulders. “Oi!” he called, “We wondered where you’d gone off to Fred!” He smiled at you and ruffled your hair when he reached the two of you, “You’ve found our dear Y/N, I see. So, have you got yourself a date to the Yule Ball?”

You glanced to Fred, who looked suddenly guilty. “No, Louis probably just wanted to hook up with me. You know, because of my fantastically proportioned figure and extraordinary facial features.” You smirked Fred’s way, an action not unnoticed by George. Fred rolled his eyes.

Angelina gasped, “What makes you think that?”

You shrugged and smiled, “Intuition. Don’t worry, Ang, he isn’t worth it.”

----

A few days later, you were standing by the fire in the Common Room, talking to Angelina.

“I’m not sure what the team will look like next year without Oliver,” she was saying, “He was really the glue to the team, though he was a bit sexist, calling us ‘lads’ all the time. Do I look like a lad to you?”

You shook your head, agreeing with her. Just then, a pair of bright orange heads wandered through the portrait hole and sat with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The twins appeared to be talking mostly to Ron.

“…And with the year off, too. It’s not going to be good, Y/N. I’ll be captain so I’ll be responsible…”

You tried to listen to your friend as she spoke about quidditch. Fred and George were still talking to Ron. Fred looked relaxed, sure of himself. Confidence, you thought, is a good look on a man. As if they had felt you watching them, all five people sat at the table turned your way. You and Fred made brief eye contact, and he seemed to be thinking something through. Your relationship with him had been improving a little since your interaction in the hall the other day. Though you still didn’t have a date to the Yule Ball, and were starting to wonder if you should seek Louis out for another ‘private chat.’ Maybe he’d ask again if prompted.

Fred seemed to decide something, and then he was shouting, “Oi! Angelina!”

Angelina pulled her gaze from you and her thoughts from quidditch, “What?”

“Want to come to the Ball with me?” called Fred, eyebrows wiggling mischievously. Your heart dropped. Of course he’d want to ask Angelina. She’s beautiful, she’s kind, she’s athletic, she’s smart. Why would he ask you when you’d only just started getting along again a few days ago?

George glanced to Fred then, looking a bit affronted. Angelina shot you an anxious look. You forced the jealous thoughts from your mind, and smiled lightly at her, shrugging. “All right, then,” she said, turning back to you.

“Oi! Y/N!” you turned back to the table, where George had just called your name. At this point, the entire Common Room was watching the exchange. Fred’s attention was on George.

“What is it, George?” you asked, not having to guess too hard at what he was about to say.

He smiled, “Want to come to the Ball with me?” his grin was growing by the second, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend, but couldn’t help a smile from sliding onto your face, “Sure thing.”

You turned back to Angelina, who looked nervous, probably thinking you’d be mad that she was going with Fred. You smiled at her, “That was weird.”

Her shoulders relaxed, “Sure was. Can’t expect anything different from that pair, though.”

Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell rushed over to you and Angelina, immediately interested in your plans for the Ball.

And you couldn’t blame them. You could tell, this was going to be very interesting.

----

On the day of the Yule Ball, Hogwarts was buzzing.

The castle grounds were perfectly white and snowy and the students were excitable. Even most of the teachers could be seen with a spring in their step, humming a Christmas tune.

You and Angelina were darting around your dormitory, half dressed, hair half up, makeup partially done.

“Y/N, have you seen my shoes?” called Angelina from the other side of the room. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, and then around the room, which looked as though a swarm of pixies had been through it.

“Yeah,” you replied, picking up your wand and flicking it so the elegant high-heels hovered in the air, “Here.”

“Thanks,” she responded, letting out a huff.

Your dress was beautiful: the exact length, texture, and color you had been imagining it would be since you heard Hogwarts was hosting a Yule Ball. And Angelina looked great, too. She was wearing a velvety plum colored dress that perfectly accentuated her athletic frame.

You pinned a few hairs out of your face as she slipped on her shoes.

“Erm, Y/N?”

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Angelina’s pretty face was twisted in an anxious expression.

“Well, nothing is wrong, exactly, but…” she trailed off, looking at you in the mirror you were using to get ready. “Well, I wanted to make sure you’re okay with me going to the Ball with Fred.” She looked nervous, and a bit guilty.

You laughed, a bobby pin stuck between your teeth, “As long as you’re okay that I’m going with George.”

Her expression stilled, her eyes grew wide, “But—I—”

“I know you like him, Ang.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, pouting, “I do not.”

“Could have fooled me,” you retorted.  

She frowned, “There’s no reason I would be mad! Why would I be mad? I’m not mad.”

You sent her a smile, “Nor am I mad that you’re going with Fred,” you eyed her through the mirror, “And even though you’re insisting that you don’t like him, I’m pretty sure George likes you.”

Her eyes grew wide, and thoughtful, with this information, “Really?”

You nodded.

There was silence for a few moments.

“They’ve really done a number on us, haven’t they?” she asked you, not completely serious, but there was a certain weight behind her words.

“Yeah, they have,” you agreed, “Maybe we should ditch them and just go together.”

She laughed, “Maybe we should.”

You finished with your hair and turned to face her. “I’m ready to head down, how about you?”

“Me too,” she looked you up and down appreciatively, “Damn, girl! I can’t wait to see Fred’s face when he sees you in that!”

You scoffed, “Yeah right! It’ll be nothing compared to George’s when he sees you!” You took her arm and descended the stairs together.

Fred and George did, indeed, do double takes when they saw you and Angelina.

They had been standing nonchalantly at the bottom of the staircases, dressed in robes that were clearly hand-me-downs, but far nicer than their usual attire nonetheless. George spotted you first, grinning your way before his gaze slid over to Angelina. His eyes widened and his jaw slackened as he watched her walking towards him. You felt smug, you knew they had a thing for each other.

Fred was watching Angelina, too, a small grin on his face. When he glanced at you, his grin fell away and his eyes turned intense again. You wondered if you’d done something to offend him.

In perfect unison, they spoke, “Hello, ladies!”

“Hey, George,” you smiled at your date.

He mock bowed your way, “Merlin’s beard, it’s going to be hard to behave myself tonight,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows, “You look great, darling.” He slipped an elegant arrangement of flowers over your wrist: a corsage.

“Aw, thanks, George. You didn’t have to do this.”

He was grinning, “I promised I’d make tonight worth your while.” Above everything else, you were glad to be going to the Ball with George. He was easy: tonight would be fun and stress-free.

A throat cleared, “Y/N.”

You turned toward the voice, “Hi, Fred.” You observed his outfit—a yellow vest, a slim bowtie—he looked very handsome, “You clean up nicely.”

His expression was still solid. Stormy, almost. “You’re not so bad yourself, fantastically proportioned figure and extraordinary facial features and all.” he smirked, referencing your comment from the other night. His eyes trailed over your body shamelessly—almost as if he were checking you out.

You laughed, but your cheeks were burning, “Thanks.” Next to you, George and Angelina seemed to be having a similar exchange. You smiled at them.

George turned back to you, then, holding out his arm for you to take, “Alright. You ready, Freddie?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, mate.”

The four of you made your way to the Yule Ball in pairs, Fred and Angelina were arm in arm just as you and George were.

The Great Hall was barely recognizable. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in frost, and were sparkling and silver. There were garlands of mistletoe and ivy hung from wall to wall and the trick ceiling displayed a perfectly starry night. There were dozens of small tables arranged neatly around the room, in place of the house tables, each one with a lantern for light. It was breathtaking.

You squeezed George’s arm in excitement, and moved to sit at a table with some other Gryffindors.

When the formal dinner was over, you danced. You danced a lot and without any thought to how other people were perceiving you. As you and George—and Fred and Angelina—made your way through the Hall, the crowds parted, giving you plenty of space as if they thought you might run them over. You were having a lot of fun. As you had predicted, George was an excellent date.

“Need more beverage?” he asked, and you nodded, him and Fred leaving to refill your drinks.

When they came back, George handed you your drink and winked, “This one’s got something special in it.” His eyes were full of their usual mischief, and he must have noted your unsure expression, because he rolled his eyes, “Oh relax, it’s not poisoned! It’s just got a bit of firewhisky in it.”

You grinned, “Alright then,” and downed it.

George whistled, “Careful there, Y/N. We’ve got all night.”

You laughed. Then, The Weird Sisters’ song slowed until it wasn’t something you could dance to in the way you and George had been dancing previously. You set your empty cup down, “Want to dance?”

He smiled at you, a friendly sort of smile, and downed his drink, too. “I’d love to dance. I have the most beautiful date in school.”

You snorted, “Oh please,” but you put your head on his shoulder, and settled your arms around his waist. His arms rested over yours at the small of your back, your torsos pushed together. You swayed with him for a minute without talking. You could feel the firewhisky making its way through your system.

A few feet away, Fred and Angelina were dancing, too. Angelina’s arms were tucked behind Fred’s neck and his were on her waist. They weren’t as cuddled up as you and George were; Fred was saying something to make Angelina laugh.

You were saddened by this sight. You found yourself wishing you were here tonight with Fred instead, and then felt immediately guilty because George had made such an effort to be a gentleman. You sighed.

“What is it, darling?” asked George, his voice concerned and close to your ear with how you were dancing.

“It’s nothing,” you lamented, feeling rather sorry for yourself. “Does Fred like Angelina?”

George was silent.

You let out a humorless chuckle. “I mean, he must. He asked her to be his date tonight.”

George pulled away from you, just enough to look at your face, his expression was, for once, serious, “Well, I asked you to be my date. And no offense, Y/N, but I don’t have feelings for you.”

“Oh.” You frowned, not having considered this information, “I mean, I know you don’t. I don’t have feelings for you, either,” you giggled.

George’s mouth twitched, “In fact, I have feelings for someone else,” he admitted.

Your eyes widened, and your mouth turned upwards, “Really? Well, it just so happens that I also have feelings for someone else.”

He rolled his eyes, “I never would have guessed. You’re so subtle.”

You scoffed, faking offense, “Well, it’s not like you’re slyest in the bunch either, George.”

He eyed something behind you, “What do you say… that we stir the pot a bit?”

“What do you mean?”

He looked back to you, clearly hatching some evil plan, “I mean, what do you say we make them a bit jealous?”

You narrowed your eyes, “I’m listening…”

He grinned, again glancing somewhere behind you, “You see, if I were to dip you,” he tugged you to the side, and let you fall a bit towards the floor, “and snog you, just for a second” he added, noting your distressed expression, “I bet it would get a reaction from anyone who has feelings for you.”

You were confused, “Who has feelings for me?”

His grin remained intact, “Just trust me, love.”

You nodded, trusting him without question as he leaned in and closed the gap between you. When his lips landed on yours, they were firm, and chaste. You felt no spark, no electricity. But, you felt the same feeling of safety that you always felt around George.

When he pulled away, he winked, and helped you back into a standing position.

“Well, that happened,” you remarked, not feeling much of anything.

“It sure did,” he agreed.

“Did your plan work?” you asked.

He looked again to a spot located just over your shoulder, “We’ll just have to wait to find out.”

Curiosity filled you, “What are you looking at?” You moved to turn your head, and follow his gaze, but he stopped you with a hand on your cheek.

“Trust me, Y/N.”

----

A few songs later, you and Angelina were sitting at an empty table. Fred and George had gone to talk to Ludo Bagman, for some reason, leaving you here.

As you sat, you looked around the room. Harry and Ron seemed rather lonely, sitting by themselves, Padma and Parvati nowhere to be found. Ron’s robes were very traditional, frilly, and a bit gross looking, and you felt a twinge of pity for him. Harry, on the other hand, looked quite nice in expensive-looking emerald robes.

You pointed them out to Angelina, “Don’t they look just miserable?”

She nodded, “Poor Harry. Ron’s in a horrible mood tonight.”

“Why is that?”

She looked back to you, “Did you see Hermione Granger?”

You shook your head.

“Well, Alicia was telling me that she overheard her and Ron talking the other night. Ron wondered who Hermione was taking to the Ball, but she wouldn’t tell him. Turns out she’s here with Krum. And she looks absolutely stunning. Almost rivals the Delacour girl.”

You frowned, “Well, why’s that got Ron in a bad mood?”

Angelina raised her eyebrows at you, “You really are clueless, aren’t you? Ron definitely likes her.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them interacting, it’s pretty obvious most of the time. Too much sexual tension for there to be no feelings.”

You giggled, “Well, I can’t be completely clueless. I noticed George liking you.”

She frowned, “Speaking of George. Did I see you guys kissing?”

You blushed, “Oh. Right. Please don’t be mad!” you gave her a very apologetic expression, “He said it was to ‘stir the pot.’ Whatever that means. Apparently, there’s someone here that he thought would get jealous.”

“Why would I be mad?” Angelina’s perfectly sculpted brows were furrowed, and then raised in surprise as she processed your words, “Y/N! I think—”

Across the room, Fred and George were no longer talking to Bagman. Instead, they were talking to each other, and apparently arguing about something. Before you could point it out to Angelina, they were headed your way.

Fred stopped right in front of you, “Hello, Y/N. Care for a chat?”

You glanced to Angelina, who’s wide eyes were glancing frantically back and forth between you and Fred. “Too much sexual tension for there to be no feelings,” she muttered, apparently to herself.

You blushed, hoping Fred hadn’t heard that. He must not have, because he was still looking at you, “Uh, sure.”

Fred gestured for you to follow him as he made his way outside, to where rosebushes had been conjured and filled with tiny, living fairies, who glowed in the chilly nighttime air. A statue of Father Christmas and his reindeer were elegantly placed in the middle of the makeshift enclosure.

Fred stopped and faced you. “I saw you kiss George.”

You frowned, scrunching your nose, “Yeah. So?” You shivered once, not having a coat or a sweater of any kind, and Fred noticed. He took off his own and draped it over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you muttered. This felt somehow similar to when Louis had tried to ask you to the Ball a few weeks ago.

“So, why did you kiss him?”

You met Fred’s eyes, very confused. “What do you mean? He’s my date, I’m allowed to kiss my date, aren’t I?”

“Well, I’d rather you not.”

Your expression shifted into one of incredulity, “Fred are you actually serious? Did you bring me out here for another lecture on which boys you think want to use me for sex? Because I’m pretty sure George has no interest in—”

He frowned, exasperated, “No! No. I just—Why George? Why is it… always George?” He was staring at you quite intently, and you were again reminded of a different time. Fourth year, broom cupboard, hide and seek.

You took a step back from him, clueless, “What do you mean ‘Why is it always George?’ Like I said, George is my date.” You felt like there was something you should be figuring out right about now. This was too weird.

“But, you didn’t want to kiss him…” he said slowly.

You rolled your eyes, “Well, it’s not like he forced me.”

Fred frowned, clearly this is not what he had wanted you to say, “No, I mean, you didn’t really want to kiss him.”

You paused, crossing your arms, “No. I guess I didn’t really want to kiss him.”

“But you did anyway… because he was your date.”

“Yes. Because he was my date.” You avoided mentioning the other, more embarrassing reasons for the kiss.

“But why?” he asked, still staring at you very intently, still dressed very nicely.

You were silent for a moment, wondering where he was headed with this, “Why what?”

Fred frowned, also in thought, “Why didn’t you want to kiss him?”

You rolled your eyes, “Because I don’t like him like that, you dolt. We’re just friends.”

“It always seemed as though you like George. I mean, what’s not to like? I know he’s not as good looking as I am, but still.” Fred seemed to think this comment was pretty funny, because he smirked to himself.

You pressed your face into your hands and groaned.

“So why?” he repeated. You shot him a scathing look. “Why don’t you like him like that, I mean,” he corrected.

Your eyes lingered on his brown ones. He seemed earnest, there was no hint that he was about to make fun of you. “I… I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

He scoffed, “I think it’s entirely my business.”

You turned toward him again, cheeks hot, “And why would you think that, you entitled prick?”

His eyes met yours, and then he glanced up. The sky was inky and filled with scatterings of stars and a bright full moon, just like the trick ceiling inside the Great Hall. Combined with the elegant enclosure, it would have been dreadfully romantic—if you were with anyone else.  

When Fred’s gaze found yours again, there was something softer to it: he was vulnerable, “You know why, Y/N.”

Your stomach dropped and your eyes fell to the grass. There was no way he knew. You were careful, you were—

“Y/N,” he repeated.

“I—I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain yourself,” you settled in, ready to defend yourself.

“Because I’m in love with you,” your gaze shot up at this, eyes wide, “and I think I deserve to know who my competition is.” Fred’s eyebrows were furrowed and his expression was honest. He was steeled, prepared to take this blow, prepared to know, finally, that you didn’t love him back.

You turned from him, despite every cell in your body telling you to do the opposite. You were on fire. “But…” you sputtered, “you hate me!”

He laughed, “I will admit that I acted to intentionally make my feelings for you less obvious.” He paused, “But honestly, woman, you didn’t know?”

You spun towards him again, now several feet away, in utter disbelief at how idiotic the pair of you had been acting: being mean to each other to throw the other off your scent. “Of course I didn’t know!”

Fred took in your distressed expression and took a few strides towards you, grabbing your forearms in an attempt to calm you. His hands were warm, you could feel the body heat radiating off of him. It was cold outside, damnit. And he must have been wearing some sort of potion for cologne, because your head was light with this sudden close proximity.

You slammed your palms against his chest in a weak attempt to display your anger, failing when you noticed his muscles tense under your fingers. You let Fred pull you into a hug. You were enveloped in him for the first time in a long time, and you couldn’t help but notice how well you fit together.

After a few moments, you heard his voice, “So, who is it?” His voice was in your ear as George’s had been during your slow dance, but with Fred’s words, a shiver went down your spine.

You tilted your head, chin resting on his chest as he looked down at you. His dark eyes were still hardened in preparation of your confession. And though you felt bad for him in the moment, thinking that you were about to tell him about your feelings for someone else, you couldn’t help but smile and tuck your face back into his chest. Fred loved you back. You could hear his heart beating at a speed you were positive was much quicker than it should be.

“Who is it, love? I promise, you won’t hurt my feelings, if that’s what you’re worried about. We can stay friends, I won’t be upset.” You could tell he was trying to be gentle. He didn’t want to hurt you while you told him who you loved instead.

You groaned, and spoke into his shirt, “It’s you, you absolute tosser.”

There was a long pause. Then:

“What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you, darling.” You could hear the overjoyed smile in his voice, and you knew, he had most definitely heard you. He was being cheeky, already.

You pulled your face back from him again, and met his eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but before you got any words out, he was leaning down and kissing you.

And it was a little awkward at first, with both of you being so excited, you fumbled for a bit. But after a moment or two, your noses stopped bumping and you wound your hands in his hair and kissed him back as passionately as you could. His arms pulled tighter around you, and one hand reached down to squeeze your butt.

You pulled away, swatting at him. “Hey!” But, both of you were breathless and smiling and you leaned in again. The night was cold but you might have been in a sauna for all you knew. Your blood was racing through your veins. You’d wanted this for years.

Kissing Fred was nothing like your kiss with George had been. Fred’s lips on yours made all of the disgustingly cheesy things you read about in romance novels happen: your heart was racing, your head was light, your stomach was filled with butterflies.

When you finally pulled away, both you and Fred were gasping for breath, the cold, winter air drawing into your lungs again and again.

You cleared your throat, “I said…” you gave Fred a pointed look, “It’s you, you absolute tosser.”

He laughed under his breath, “Yeah, I gathered, love.” He moved in to peck your lips again.

As you walked back to the Great Hall, his arm around your shoulders, you grinned at him, “So, me and my fantastically proportioned figure and extraordinary facial features, huh?”

Fred rolled his eyes.

----

A/N 2: I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think! I love reading your comments 🥺💕⚡️🧡 

[weasleydream]

The life and grief of Percy and Y/N Weasley - Part 6

Holy mother of Chuck (oups, too much Supernatural...) we’re already at this point of the serie! I have to say I’m quite proud of this one, even if it literally breaks my poor little heart... 

So yeah, if I had to put a warning, I would say this is quite violent. Also, I’ve used some dialogues from the book, you’ll easily recognize which ones.

Anyway, as usual, feel free to give feedbacks and enjoy!

Masterlist

(gif not mine) 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 

Their first battle 

Our family’s absence in our lives was more and more difficult to bear. Restless nights were quite frequent, nights during which I would dream of the worst scenarios possible. I was tormented by terrible images showing Mum dying, Ginny fighting a Death Eater, Bill sacrificing himself for someone… Almost every night, I woke up screaming, tears all over my face, the heart hurting a bit more when I thought maybe all of this would happen without my family knowing how much I loved them. These nights, Percy would barge in my room immediately, as if he was waiting for the moment I would wake up, and hug me while murmuring it would be okay. He didn’t believe a word of what he said to me, though.

The situation at the Ministry worsened day-by-day: now, the Death Eaters didn’t even try to hide themselves anymore and the number of crimes against the wizarding world was increasing, the worst one being the tracking of the muggleborns. For the first time in a while, I had wondered where was Hermione, a good friend of mine, and if she was safe. Percy had assured me the Ministry was still looking for her, along with Harry Potter and our younger brother, Ron. The three of them had infiltrated the Ministry and stolen something from Dolores Umbridge, before escaping and bringing with them a score of muggleborns. They had a price on their heads, but they weren’t the only ones in danger. 

Our works at the Ministry put us in front of the enemy each day. Percy was more threatened than I was though: he was Thickness’ assistant, and he knew his boss was manipulated by Death Eaters. I was kind of protected in my small office of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, but I was dying from worry each time he didn’t join me for the lunch. They know he doesn’t agree… They have taken him to get informations… He’s dead… These thoughts were always in a corner of my head, and they faded only when Percy finally came back home. 

However, things really changed for us when one day, during the lunch, four men barged in my office where Percy and I were eating. They all had their wands pointed on us, and one of them spoke with a deep and threatening voice.

“Are you Percy and Y/N Weasley?”

Percy, who had jumped on his feet and placed himself in front of me, nodded.

“A perfectly reliable source has informed us that you show some signs of disagreement. You know what happens for the traitors. Follow us.”

Everything happened too quickly for me to comprehend. Percy cast a spell and the man fell backward, leading another one on the floor. I grabbed my wand and petrified one of the other two and Percy disarmed the last. He grabbed my hand and we ran out of the office, rapidly gaining the Atrium and getting out of the Ministry. We apparated in our flat.

“What the hell just happened?” I muttered. “How did they know? I thought we were always careful!”

Percy frowned. 

“Obviously not enough.” he murmured. 

All of sudden, a strange noise echoed from the fireplace. A face appeared, an old man looking slightly like Dumbledore. It was his brother, Aberforth: Percy had contacted him for the first time three weeks ago. He regularly informed us about the situation at Hogwarts. This time, he didn’t waste time asking us how we were doing, he just announced something and left us in shock. 

“You-know-who will arrive soon at Hogwarts. They will fight.”

I fell on my knees, the worse feeling of panic I had ever felt raising in my chest, and Percy seemed on the verge of fainting.

“We have to go.” 

I nodded, grabbed my wand on the table, handed Percy his, and we apparated at the Hog’s Head. Aberforth groaned and nodded toward a huge portrait at the wall. It was open and we saw the entrance of a tunnel. Understanding it would bring us to Hogwarts, we went down there and run as if our lives depended on it, me behind Percy and my heart beating faster than ever. We eventually reached the end of the tunnel and Percy missed a step. I did exactly the same and fell on him. When we got up, we both gasped: almost all our family stood in front of us, the shock on their faces mirroring ours. 

An unbearable tension appeared immediately. I was fighting tears and didn't even recognize Fleur Delacour who tried to break the tension by talking about someone called Teddy. 

Dad’s weak voice echoed, asking what in Merlin’s name we were doing here.

“I was a fool!” screamed Percy. He kept babbling, trying to find a word to describe himself, which Fred provided him with a small smile. 

Mum broke down and engulfed us into a hug, pushing Fred doing so. 

“It’s becoming an habit…” he groaned. 

Dad approached too. Percy looked at him in the eyes for the very first time since that night and apologized. Dad seemed on the verge of crying too and quickly hugged us. He let Percy go but prevented me from turning around by grabbing my face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry… So sorry…” he choked out.

“Don’t worry…” I managed to say. “We have bigger problems right now, don’t we?”

He nodded and let me go. I found myself next to Bill - who sent me a genuine smile, and I noticed his scars - while Dad and Harry explained briefly the situation. 

“Come on, we have to go in the Great Hall.” 

Bill urged me toward the door, but Ginny jumped on me. She was mumbling something I couldn’t understand, partially because the sound of my blood pumping in my veins was too loud and echoed in my ears. 

“Stay safe… Ginny, I’m begging you to stay here, safe and sound, you hear me?”

“You stay safe Y/N.” she replied. “You just came back to us, Percy and you, you have to be careful. We can’t lose you a second time…” 

I stroked her hair one last time and followed Bill. I noticed something shining on his finger, and I couldn’t help but gasp.

“Are you married?”

“Yes, with Fleur.”

I stuttered apologies. My oldest brother was married and I wasn’t even there with him.

“Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll marry again after this if you want!” he winked at me. 

The Great Hall was crowded. Members of the Order of the Phoenix, along with old and actual Hogwarts students, were here. Some of them were talking about the evacuation of the one who were too young. With a heavy heart, I thought of Ginny who was alone in the Room of Requirements (that’s how Harry had called the room where we had arrived, I had never heard about it before) and prayed whatever divine power for her to be okay. 

Percy, who had noticed my watery eyes, put an arm around my shoulders. I glanced at him: his jaw was clenched, his eyebrows frowned, and his eyes showed a burning flame, the flame of his determination. 

Professor McGonagall was explaining how the younger ones would be evacuated from the castle when a terrifying voice, a cold and high-pitched voice, echoed in the Great Hall. 

I know that you are preparing to fight.

A lot of students screamed, their hands plated on their head. Others were frantically looking for the person who was speaking, but I knew he wasn’t here. It was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and he wasn’t in the castle. Not yet. 

Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.

All of sudden, all the screams stopped. Maybe some were hoping there wouldn’t be any fight, but I was sure most of the people were waiting anxiously for a condition. 

Give me Harry Potter, and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. 

You have until midnight. 

I felt like my heart had stopped. What if someone had the idea of -

“But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!”

A Slytherin girl stood at her table and pointed at Harry. Without anyone saying anything, all the people seated at the Gryffindor table stood up and we placed ourselves in front of Harry to protect him. The Ravenclaw and the Hufflepuff did the same. Percy and I exchanged a look: yes, we were going to fight like true Gryffindors. 

Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped on the platform and his powerful voice announced what we had to do. He told he needed someone to organize the protection of the various passages leading into the school and Fred proposed his and George’s help. He immediately got up, gesturing Lee Jordan to follow George who was leaving. 

“Perce, Y/N, will you join us?” He winked. 

Percy and I got up on the same movement and followed him. George and Lee were waiting outside. 

“George… You… Your ear… You…” Percy stuttered.

I looked up to my brother and saw with horror that one of his ear was missing. 

“Yes, battle wound.” he grinned. “The girls love it, they say it looks -”

“Disgusting.” interrupted Fred. “Come on, we don’t have all night. We have a battle to win.”

“What can we do?” I asked. 

“Y/N, you know this secret passage leading to Honeydukes? Go with Percy and make sure to block it.”

I nodded. Our younger twins had showed it to me once and I remembered where it was. We agreed to meet up there after it was done and Percy and I left. We quickly found the statue and I murmured the spell to make it move. We cast various spells and the tunnel fell apart. No one could walk in it. Percy cast a last spell on the statue to make sure it wouldn’t move and we left. 

We came back to the Great Hall who was turning into an hospital wing much more accessible and easy to defend than the original one. Fred, George and Lee weren’t here yet, so Percy and I helped Madam Pomfrey organizing her stuff. 

When our brother and their friend arrive, they led us to an empty corridor. 

“Dad thinks the Death Eaters will arrive in this wing first.” said Fred. “I guess we should stay here.”

A few persons arrived on brooms. I recognized Oliver Wood who was leading them. They had more brooms and were looking for help. Lee joined them. It was just the four of us, the four Weasley twins, and soon, we would fight side by side. 

“I think it’s useless to tell you to be careful.” My voice was shaky. I looked to Fred, who was frowning, to George, who tried to smile weakly, and to Percy, who grabbed my hand. “I can’t lose any of you. We have to win this, our family needs to win this, and then Perce and I we will make up for our mistakes.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Fred managed to smile and hugged me. I caught a glimpse of Percy taking George in his arms. We exchanged, and George’s strong embrace almost made me break down. What sent me over the edge was Percy’s bear hug. I felt him shaking against me, and I didn’t know if he was scared, or crying, or both. 

“Perce, I know I never really said it to you, but -”

“Don’t do that.” His voice was pleading and I felt his tears wet my hair. “Don’t talk like one of us is gonna die. It won’t happen Y/N. It won’t happen.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. No, of course, none of us would die. No Weasley would die. It was impossible. At this moment, a terrible regret filled my heart. 

“I wish I could hug everyone once more…” I muttered. 

“Just keep that for the celebrations of our victory! I can see that from here… There will have Butterbeer and Firewhiskey - no, Perce, you won’t touch it, you know you can’t stand alcohol.” mocked George. 

“I don’t know what you mean” mumbled my twin. 

“I think you perfectly know what I mean.”

“Yes, Perce, don’t you remember back in fourth year when -”

A blood curdling scream echoed somewhere in the park. Percy glanced at his watch. 

“Midnight.”

It was beginning. 

Fred, George, Percy and I moved in the corridor so that we could cover it all and anxiously waited for our enemies. I tightened my grip on my wand. From now on, it was the only thing that separated me from death. 

Six Death Eaters appeared at the corner of the corridor. They ran toward us. Two of them stopped in front of me, and my instinct took over me. I was casting spells as fast as I could, trying to dodge all of the curses that flew in all directions. I petrified one, but the other projected me against the wall behind. The air left my hungs. The man in front of me grinned wickedly, knowing he had won, but then his grin vanished, making way for a shocked expression. He fell head first and Fred ran toward me. 

“You okay?”

I nodded and got back on my feet. Taking a second to catch my breath, I saw that four Death Eaters were out of action. Percy and George were facing the last ones, and joined by Fred, they quickly eliminated one. The last man tried to make the wall explode but three stupefying charms hit him before he could finish casting his spell. The explosion, which would have been fatal, I was pretty sure of it, was relatively weak. Fred was the farthest and nothing happened to him, however Percy took a few steps back and George fell on his knees. 

“George!” 

Fred shouted his twin’s name while running toward him. 

“It’s nothing…” George mumbled. 

A burst of stone was planted in his shoulder, and a trail of blood was pouring out of the wound. His arm was trembling and his wand slipped out of his hand. 

“You have to go to the Great Hall Georgie, now!” urged Fred. 

I turned toward Percy and my heart skipped a beat. I had assumed he was fine, but a large cut covered his forehead and another one had ripped his shirt. He was losing a terrifying amount of blood - well, in my perspective, which wasn’t really objective. 

“Percy, you go with George. I stay here with Fred.”

“No way.” Percy said firmly. “You stick with me, Y/N, you have no choice.”

“I won’t let Fred alone.” I hissed. “Go with George, I’ll be okay.”

At this moment, Oliver Wood, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson arrived on their brooms and landed next to us. 

“They have invaded the other side of the castle. They need more people in the west wing!” warned Angelina. 

“Okay,” mumbled Fred. “Okay, Y/N and I will go there. Can you make sure George and Perce go to the Great Hall?” 

“Of course.” answered Oliver. 

Fred pulled him apart to tell him something and Angelina and Lee were helping George getting on the broom, much to his annoyment (“I’m not dying, I can fly on my own!”). I jumped at Percy’s neck, pulling him against me with all my strength as if it was the last time I saw him. 

“I won’t go Y/N. I won’t leave you alone.”

“I won’t be alone.” I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me in the eyes. “Fred will be here. Don’t worry. Go to the Great Hall, get healed and come back to me. Be careful Perce, please…”

My voice choked up as I tried to ignore my terror of seeing Percy leaving me. He obviously felt the very same thing, because he kissed my hair and whispered. 

“Stay alive Y/N, promise me you’ll stay alive.”

“I promise.”

Oliver pushed slightly Percy toward his broom and I watched my brothers fly away and disappear behind the corner of the corridor. 

Everything was calm around Fred and I. It was like the calm before the storm, a kind of tension almost palpable who seemed to rest on our shoulders. It was frightening. I felt it becoming unbearable. I felt the lump in my throat preventing me from breathing, my eyes burning, the feeling of dizziness. Fred understood what was happening and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me as if he wanted me to wake up from a nightmare. It worked somehow and I regain my senses. 

“We can take a little break if you want.”

I just nodded and we sat against the wall. I rested my head on Fred’s shoulder and he took my hand. It was a silent way to assure each other we would be fine and, while doing so, plenty of memories flooded in front of my closed eyes. 

“I can’t believe how grown up you all are,” I murmured. “I mean, George and you are adults, you have your own shop, and Ginny, she’s almost a woman… I wish I could have seen Ron… Maybe I could have said I loved him and he would have known - and Charlie, I don’t want -”

“Don’t worry for that Y/N, he knows it. Trust me, he does. They both know.” added Fred when I looked at him, surprised. Another silence followed, this time broken by my brother. 

“I asked Oliver to make sure Percy and George stay in the Great Hall the longest time possible. I said he could knock them out if needed.” he added with a small laugh. “At least they are safe. And I can protect you.”

“No.” Fred looked at me in disbelief. “I will protect you. That’s my job, I’m your big sister, and I have done a pretty poor job until now. I could give my life for you, Fred, as much as I would do it for everyone in our family.”

I got up and extended a hand toward him. As soon as I looked at my little brother, I knew what I said was truer than ever. During this battle, if anything had to happen near Fred - an explosion, a curse, whatever - I would be there and I would save him. Same if we ran into any member of the family. Somehow, this goal I had fixed myself provided me a renewed determination and I finally was able to push away the fear. For the first time in my life, I felt like a true Gryffindor and knowing my family was with me, I felt ready to move mountains. 

“Let’s go to the west wing.”

Fred took my hand, unable to hide the worry shining in his eyes. We joined the heart of the fights. The Death Eaters were many more than anywhere else in the castle, and so where the dead bodies lying on the floor. I stopped in front of a girl who obviously didn’t have the age to be here, her neck was torn and a true river of blood was flooding of her wound. I wanted to help her, or at least hold her hand and reassure her but Fred, who was holding tightly my hand, pulled me forward while shaking his head. 

A Death Eater and a werewolf stepped in front of us. 

“Greyback.” hissed Fred.

That was the werewolf who had attacked Bill, I had heard his name at the Ministry. A cry of rage escaped my mouth and I cast him the first spell. Fred, understanding I had chosen my enemy, attacked the wizard. Greyback had a supernatural speed of reaction: as soon as my wand produced a flash of light, he jumped aside and made his way toward him. I tried to stun him, but there was no use. An evil smile had taken place on his abominable face, a smile that showed bloody fangs. Thinking of his unfortunate victim was infuriating, and for a brief moment, I saw the girl with the bloodied neck. Knowing attacking the werewolf directly with a spell was useless, I frantically looked around me, seeing in passage Fred still fighting with the Death Eater. My eyes passed on a wall partly collapsed, and I gestured toward a particularly big piece of the wall with my wand. The stone flew and landed where stood Greyback. The last thing heard of him was a weak moan of pain. 

Not even thinking of how I just killed someone, I joined Fred into his fight. The Death Eater he was facing was undoubtedly the most skilled we had faced until now, but we were two and he soon had to retreat. On the corner of my eye, I saw two other Death Eater arriving, and I heard some wizards of our side arriving behind us. Fred looked away during a fraction of second. The Death Eater took this opportunity and in a last attempt to get rid of us, he pointed his wand to the wall behind us and I could read on his lips Bombarda Maxima. 

At this very moment, I wasn’t even sure I was the one who decided to act. I felt like a stranger in my own body, a stranger who watched the scene in slow motion. I saw the wall beginning to crack, the fissures glowing in yellow. I jumped toward Fred who was slowly turning his head and placed myself between him and the wall. I took him in my arms, protecting him with my body, in the same way I had done in the stairs so many years before. The sound of the explosion resonated in my brain and I still could see the flashes of light behind my closed eyelids. When they finally vanished, along with the hissing of the explosion, all went black.  

Third POV

The smoke created by the explosion slowly disappeared, dispersed by the flashes of light thrown above his head. Fred slowly regained consciousness and while doing so, he began to feel a weight on him. He managed to lift his head and his heart almost stop beating. Y/N was on the top of him, her face hidden in the crook of his neck and her arms still around him. He saw the exploded wall and suddenly, he understood. He moved as quickly as his sore body permitted him, and laid delicately Y/N on the floor. The flashes of light had stopped, the Death Eaters were stunned. 

“Y/N… Y/N wake up…” he mumbled, the tears making their way to his eyes. “You can’t die! I forbid you! Please, Y/N, please, come back, wake up!”

Fred bent over his sister, painful sobs escaping his mouth. He clenched her shirt, shook her, screamed, but she didn’t wake up. Hoping she was still there, somewhere, able to hear him, to feel him, he put his head on her chest. He was about to tell her how much he loved her, his only big sister, the one that had always protected him, how much he regretted all these pranks, all these times she had screamed or cried, these nearly three years without her, when he heard it. A weak heartbeat, followed by another, and another. She was still alive. 

When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s voice echoed in the castle, Fred threw himself on his sister to protect her from all the threats. 

You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. 

Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. 

Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. 

You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.

Fred didn’t waste any time. Knowing no one would attack him, he carefully lifted Y/N’s body up and ran toward the Great Hall. Her head was bouncing violently, but Fred was afraid she would die if she wasn’t healed quickly. He was so focused on his mission that he didn’t even notice the blood that was impregnating his shirt. 

The Great Hall was crowded. People were wandering between the bodies, afraid to find a son, a daughter, a friend. While running toward Madam Pomfrey, Fred threw frantic looks to the lifeless bodies around him, hoping with all he had no one he knew would be laid somewhere. He felt a stinging pain when he saw Remus and Tonks, both pale and holding hands. Dead.

He obeyed to the matron as soon as he found her and laid delicately Y/N on the floor. Madam Pomfrey lifted her head, and watched sadly at her hand covered in blood. She waved her wand above Y/N, slowly got up and sighed. 

“I cannot do anything, I’m sorry.”

She left hurriedly. Fred fell on his knees. No. No. She couldn’t die. She didn’t have the right. Not because of him. Not when he had just gotten her back. He slowly put his hand in his sister’s hair, stroking it like their mother used to. She seemed to be asleep, and Fred could have imagined she was dreaming if her skin wasn’t so pale. His heart was slowly breaking, and the lump of pain in his throat threatened to choke him. 

A hand he couldn’t identify gripped his shoulder. If Fred had turned his head, he would have seen Bill’s scarred face covered in tears, his mouth twisting in a strange way to prevent him from sobbing. He tried to take his little brother in his arms, he wanted to comfort him even if he was suffering himself, and Fred let him do so. He sobbed onto Bill’s shoulder, constantly repeating it was his fault, he should have saved her. Fleur Delacour was behind her husband, her eyes barely containing her tears. Seeing them suffering like this was awful, the worst thing she had ever seen. 

But Fred’s sobs and Bill’s pain weren’t the worst. God, no. When the rest of the family arrived, joined by George and Percy who had looked for their twins, unaware of the terrible loss they would have to face, they saw the boys kneeled on the floor. Percy’s cry of agony broke everyone’s heart, he threw himself next to his twin sister and shook her. He was unable to tell a single word, the only thing he managed to choke out was “No!”. Molly squealed in horror and kneeled next to her daughter, holding tightly her cold hand. Arthur took a few steps back, the sight of her oldest daughter’s lifeless body causing him a physical pain. He remembered all the things he had said to her, all lies because himself was frustrated, and he knew he would hate himself until his death day. 

“She isn’t… yet.” murmured Fred, trembling in the side hug George was now giving him. 

No one asked why he had added “yet”. They had all understood, and they knew what that meant. Not Percy. Behind his tears, a painful hint of hope lighted his eyes up. He grabbed Y/N’s other hand, and whispered in her ear, begging her to wake up.

“Perce…” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. Percy gasped.

Her eyes flickered open. The pain in her body and above all in her head was nothing compared to what she felt when she saw her beloved twin hoping she would be alright. She knew, everyone knew that she would…

“I’m… sorry, Perce.” She had tried her best not to let her family hear her pain, but she had failed. 

She saw the despair in Percy’s eyes, she saw his own pain as he was understanding that his best friend would die in front of him. But she didn’t want him to cry, she didn’t want Fred, her mother or anyone to cry. She had so much things to say yet so little time. She felt it, her life was slowly abandoning her.

“Why?” cried Fred. “Why did you do that?”

“I told you… My job, Freddie.” She cracked a smile. “It’s like the good old time, isn’t it?”

Molly, who had just understood what had happened, barely contained her sob and kissed her daughter’s forehead. 

“You don’t deserve it… Y/N, you don’t deserve to…” Fred was unable to say it. It would be real, and he didn’t want it to. 

“To die?” Her voice was getting weaker and weaker. “I deserve it more than you, Freddie.”

He shook furiously his head. Percy had stayed silent. He was numb, he couldn’t imagine anything to express how much he loved her. How much he loved his twin. His best friend, the only one who had been with him since the beginning and until the end. Until her end. 

“Perce… Please Perce… Can you hug me?”

Percy felt it. He felt his heart breaking. Y/N’s voice was so weak, so fragile, and her eyes showed more fear than he could even imagine. Delicately, as if he could break her with a sudden move, he passed an arm behind her back and sat her against him. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and Percy grabbed her hand. His tears were rolling on her hair. 

“I love you,” he murmured. “I love you so much, Y/N. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I was a poor excuse of a twin…”

She raised a shaking hand and tangled it in her brother’s hair, ruffling it like she used to when she complimented him.

“You weren’t… I love you, all of you. I love you, Percy.”

Y/N used her last ounce of energy to smile before closing her eyes and letting her hand fall. 

“Promise me you’ll live for me…”

The last thing she saw was her family’s tears. 

The last thing she heard was Percy’s scream of agony.

The last thing she felt was his arms trying to protect her from death.

The last thing she had done was fighting at her family’s side, and she couldn’t be happier.

To be continued

Part 7 - Last part

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Drink - Bill Weasley

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader

Characters: Bill Weasley

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 608

Author: Hannah

You’d spent most of your life trying to help everyone else out, make sure that they were happy before you were and that they wouldn’t have to worry about much.

It hadn’t taken long for you to realise that it wasn’t the best way of going about things and that you did deserve to put yourself first every once in a while.

What you hadn’t banked on, however, when you decided to put yourself first was sleeping with your friend’s older brother, well one of them anyway.

You’d been friends with the Weasley twins all throughout school and had met their siblings many times, and since leaving school with them you’d gotten to know the whole family even more.

When you’d seen Bill in a local tavern the night prior, you’d gone up to him intending just to say hello, but one thing led to another and soon enough you were apparating back to Shell Cottage.

You thought you were going to feel mortified in the morning but when you woke up, heard the sea and the gulls outside and turned to the man that was still fast asleep next to you – you didn’t feel anything other than content.

Whilst trying not to wake Bill, you slowly climbed out of bed and slipped on his button-up from the night before.

You only went to the bathroom but when you made you way back into Bill’s bedroom, he was no longer as you left him.

Deciding to find him, you slowly went downstairs and found Bill in the kitchen with only a pair of pyjama bottoms on his person.

He looked up and shot you a smile. “Well good morning love,” he greeted you.

You smiled at him and then couldn’t help but be a little giddy at the familiarity between you two, how easily Bill could just pull you into his arms.

Bill’s arms wrapped around you, resting one palm on your bare back underneath his shirt. “I thought I might make you a drink before you ultimately decide to leave and get on with your day.”

Tilting your head in confusion, Bill sighed.

“Well…I just figured that last night probably wasn’t what you’d expected,” he explained slightly cautiously. “And, you know, you’re essentially the twins’ best friend.”

You shrugged. “What do Fred and George have to do with last night?”

“I don’t think they’d take too kindly to me removing the innocence of their precious Y/N.”

You laughed, reaching up to wind your arms around Bill’s neck. “I lose my so-called innocence a long time ago Bill,” you told him gently. “And as for last night, I thought things went quite well, yes?”

Surprisingly your words caused Bill’s cheeks to flush but still he leant down and gently kissed you. “Exceptionally well.”

“Then why are we going to tread on eggshells as if it didn’t happen?” you asked. “I understand if you wouldn’t want to be with a girl eight years your junior, and you have been married before, but-“

Bill interrupted your rambling by kissing you rather soundly. “Why would I care about the age?” he questioned softly. “And as for my ex-wife, it was an amicable split and she isn’t even in the country anymore.”

It seemed like he had put your worries to rest, just as you had with his.

“Now, I think we should shower and then go for a walk along the beach,” he suggested, seemingly forgetting about the drink he had offered you.

You nodded in agreement, getting out of his grip and wandering over to the stairs. “I might need some help with the shower…”

“It would be my pleasure.”

[youknowme-iamyou-blog]

Black Lives Murder

When I saw Nancy Pelosi leading these Democrats, pandering to the Black Lives Matter (BLM), wearing African Kente scarfs, kneeling in worship, I almost suffered an aneurysm. It was at that point I had to stop working and write this article.

Democrats will weaponize any incident for votes, preach victimhood, and demonize all police officers for the behavior of a few rouge cops. The more ignorant among us, drink their politically correct kool-aid and kneel to blacks for being white.

I was thinking of another title for this piece: “Dear White People, Stop Apologizing for Being White.” I never owned slaves and I haven’t done anything to suppress or hurt blacks, and I’m sure you haven’t either.

Let’s end this Democrat, BLM and Antifa charade by analyzing race in crime statistics.

Blacks are responsible for committing 90% of the interracial crimes between whites and blacks, despite blacks being only 13.4% of the population.

Table 14 shows that the majority of interracial violence is perpetrated by blacks.

If we start plugging the numbers in we find that blacks committed 547,948 violent crimes against whites. On the hand whites committed 59,777 violent crimes against blacks.

Statistically blacks are responsible for committing 90% of all the interracial crimes between whites and blacks in America.

Violent Crimes in General

We are not finished. We still can tease out another statistic from our table. Blacks are responsible for 22% of all violent crime in America, again only being 13.4% of the population. But that’s not a fair estimate. Most violent crime is being perpetrated by males. So we can use that information and say with a high degree of confidence that roughly 6% of the population, comprising of black males, are responsible for 22% of violent crime in America.

Homicides -Black on White & White on Black

The situation is similar for homicides.

Blacks killed 514 whites in 2018 Whites killed 234 blacks in 2018

Again, despite being only 13.4% of the population blacks are responsible for 69% of interracial homicides between whites and blacks.

Black on Black Homicides

Blacks killing blacks are 11 times greater (2600) than whites killing blacks (234). Yet, if you listen to the Mainstream Media (MSM), BLM and Antifa, whites killing blacks are running rampant in our country. Black children are afraid to return home from school for fear of being shot by a white policeman. What nonsense.

The fact that black on black homicides are 11 times greater than whites killing blacks are not reported because it can not be racially exploited, so it is not reported by the MSM, BLM or Antifa.

If you are white, you are statistically at greater risk for being killed while in police custody than if you’re black.

More whites are killed in police custody than blacks. If you are white you are 1.7 times more likely to be killed in police custody than a black.

Math used for chart in reference section.

George Floyd Riots

No one excuses the abuse of those police officers Derek Chauvin, Tou Thao, J. Kueng and Thomas Lane. Who kept George Floyd on the ground while police officer Derek Chauvin leaned on his neck, killing him.

People are allowed to peacefully protest. However, the wrongful death of George Floyd does not give the right for protests to erupted into lawless rioting, looting, the beating and killing of innocent people. This criminal behavior is not for the memory of this man. I’ve seen the videos where BLM dragged people out of their cars and beat them up. What was their crime, being white?

The smiling faces of looters carrying their stolen goods certainly didn’t look to me like they were in mourning for George Floyd.

You are not absolved of your criminal behavior because of your supposedly “outrage” and skin color.

The mainstream media doesn’t portrays George Floyd, for the career criminal he was. I am not condoning the horrible treatment he received from police, and he certainly did not deserve to die in the manner he did. But let’s not eulogize him as a national hero.

The day Floyd was killed, he was high on fentanyl and according the medical examiner recent used methamphetamine. He has used a counterfeit 20.00 dollar bill to purchase goods, which is why the store owner called the police. He did not deserve to die the way he did. The police officer Derek Chauvin has been charged with his murder.

George Floyd did five stints in prison:

1998: 10 months in prison for thief with an firearm. 2002: 8 months for cocaine 2004: 10 months for cocaine 2005: 10 months for cocaine 2007: Home invasion. Held a firearm to a pregnant woman’s stomach while accomplices robbed and ransacked the place. He did 5 years for this crime. You can view a more detail account of his arrests here.

I’d venture to say that a non-racist person would look at this incident as a bad cop killing an innocent man.

While those trying to inflame racism, see a white cop killing a black man. The mainstream media, BLM and Antifa are trying to use this incident to paint all cops as racist. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Black Lives Matter only when the black life taken is by a white person.

Soft on Crime Democrats

The soft on crime Democrats allowed the rioting to continue in their cities across the country. Most notably in NYC and Minneapolis. Minneapolis is a city led by Democrats for over 50 years. Their Mayor Jacob Frey, had his police evacuate the Third Precinct station, giving it up to the rioters who burned it to the ground.

If In Trouble, Just Blame Trump, Scream & Shout

To pass the buck on the fail Democrat policies in Minnesota, Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison proclaimed the outside agitators in Minneapolis’ riots were “white supremacists” Trump supporters.

This is the same Keith Ellison who in January 2018 tweeted a selfie of himself at a bookstore holding the book “Antifa: The Anti-Fascist Handbook” and wrote “I just found the book that strikes fear in the heart of @realDonaldTrump”

Sounds more Saul Alinski to me, but the point is, these Democrats are sympathizers and enablers for Antifa and BLM thugs and criminals to riot.

Mayor Rudy Giuliani

Mayor Rudy Giuliani said it best. While being interviewed on Fox new said, “Don’t Elect progressive Democrats if you want to be safe.”

Democrat Mayors Bill DeBlaiso (D) NYC and and Mayor Jacob Frey (D),Minneapolis allowed the BLM and Antifa thugs to riot, to destroy business and buildings, to assault innocent people in their cities. They are useless and cowardly and should resign.

BLM and Antifa Militarily Commandeer a Section of Seattle

Weak Democratic mayor of Seattle Washington Jenny Durkan, has allowed a six block section of Seattle to be commandeered by domestic terrorists; BLM and Antifa thugs. They have arm guards shaking down businesses for money in their newly formed “Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone”

Fox News Tucker Carlson had a reporter Dan Springer, in the area, that reported, “Yeah, this is the third night of what can only be described as a complete takeover of a seven-block area of a Seattle neighborhood, and we don’t see a single police officer or city official anywhere,”

He also reported that the Seattle police relinquished control of the area, and I quote, “They did not say how cutting and running makes it safe here.”

Springer also read the BLM and Antifa demands, “abolish the Seattle Police Department and the court system, disarm all cops until they are all fired, and abolish youth jails.”

Another Mainstream Media Blackout

This is happening now and has been going on for days, do you see any of the mainstream media covering this? No. They are too busy reporting on “defunding the police”, and doing their best to make these radical protests and rioting appear reasonable.

Could you imagine if armed Trump supporters took control over seven blocks of Seattle Washington, chased the police out, starting shaking down businesses for money and goods, the MSM would lose their collective minds.

You can read the complete story here along with the radical demands from BLM and Antifa.

15 People Died in the Riots — I Have Questions

The riots are well coordinated and global. Why are there riots outside Minneapolis, Minnesota? How did protests and riots expand into other states? Why are there protests in Europe for an incident that happened in the United States? Who is funding all these protests? Who is organizing these riots? Why were pallets of bricks strategically placed where people would be rioting? There was no construction in the area. Who placed the bricks there? Why isn’t law enforcement looking into this? Who is funding and inciting this violence?

Conclusion

Despite the narrative of the mainstream media, BLM and Antifa, statistically, whites are more likely to be killed by the police than blacks. They take any incident to create a false narrative to promote their agenda.

A few rouge cops are not a reflection on all the police in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Or a reflection of police in every police department, in every state of the US. Just as white people don’t paint all blacks for the racist rioting animals that burned buildings down, beat up and killed innocent people.

For all the companies, like Amazon, Netflix, Etsy, etc., who are pandering and openly support the BLM movement, you are condoning the rioting and rioters and the damage and destruction they have done. Your pandering support will not buy you protection from thugs, it will not exonerate your companies from being burned down in a riot. The rioters burned down black owned business in black neighborhoods. If they can do that, you haven’t a chance.

To the Democrats pandering to the BLM and Antifa rioting thugs to rent the black vote in this November. Intelligent people see right through you.

Dear White People

Don’t let these race baiting lies and fake “outrage” to condone the criminal actions of thugs to riot. Please study the crime statistics in this article and stop apologizing for being white. You have nothing to be sorry for and no reason to kneel.

Cancel Culture

This article has been deleted from both Medium.Com and HubPages. HubPage declared the article “Hate Speech”.

What these leftist cancel culturists don’t understand is that calling something hate speech doesn’t make it hate speech. You’re only voicing your opinion, that is a biased opinion, and imposing you biased opinion on others.

This is the opposite of free speech it is called censorship.

...

Reference:

Homicide data by race chart — the math

It wouldn’t be accurate to compare total numbers of homicides without taking into effect the size of the populations. For instance, whites have a total homicide of whites killing whites of 2677. Blacks have a total homicide of blacks killing blacks of 2600. It wouldn’t be fair to say blacks kill just as many of their own race as whites, because the populations are not equal. White population is 249 million, and the Black population is 32 million. To put the numbers into proper perspective, we adjust the numbers to the population.

There is 1 white killed by white for every 93,187 of whites. There is 1 black killed by black for every 12,553 blacks. There is 1 white killed by blacks for every 63,449 blacks. There is 1 black killed by whites for every 1,060,075 whites.

To graph this information in a chart, we divide 1 by the population in each of the above instances. So for white on white homicide it is 1/93187 that equals 1.07E-5. For black on black homicide 1/12553 = 7.96E-5. Black on white is 1/63449 = 1.57E-5 and finally white on black 1/1,060,075 = 0.09E-5