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sergeantbuckybarnes · 2 years ago

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rumour has it // george weasley

Summary: You and George had a perfect relationship, but everything crumbles when you are told that he’s cheating on you.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: accusations of cheating, angst, miscommunitation, fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @allyjoe755 for proofreading this!

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You were never the type to believe in rumors. Especially those that spread throughout the school. They appeared as the social junk food that fattened the thoughts. You were the type of person who believed that "seeing is believing." So why did you believe Rionach O'Neal when she approached you after Herbology class to tell you that you were being cheated on, even if you hadn’t seen it for yourself?

Was it because she seemed nice and sincere in her pity for you? Perhaps it was your trust issues that told you this day would come sooner or later. Were you even surprised? It didn't help that George had been behaving strangely lately, canceling your dates, disappearing for hours, and providing vague explanations.

Oh, and how could you forget about the purple bruise you noticed on his neck this morning, and how he quickly dismissed it, claiming it was caused by Quiddich tryouts? You loved George and trusted him, so you had no reason to suspect he was lying… But now that voice in the back of your head was screaming at you, calling you an idiot for not seeing the signs sooner.

You felt pathetic. If Rionach O’Neil caught George snogging Romilda Vane, anyone could have too.

Why couldn't George be honest with you about his desire to end his relationship with you? Yes, it would have hurt, but you would have granted his wishes and let him go. Why did he feel the need to go behind your back and humiliate you? Was he worried about your reaction? Or perhaps he didn't have the courage to tell you and was waiting for you to notice that he was no longer interested in you.

You had no idea how long you had been crying in your dorm, lying on your bed, face buried in your pillow, hot tears soaking it. But when Angelina Johnson came in to tell you it was time for dinner, your eyes were still bloodshot, matching your hot, red, sweaty cheeks.

“Y/N,” She sounded concerned, and she dashed to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “What happened?”

The tears stopped flowing at some point, but seeing your friend's worried expression asking what was wrong brought the conversation with Rionach back to your mind, and your eyes began to stream again unconsciously.

Angelina tried her best to calm you down. She hugged you and assured you that everything would be fine, but nothing seemed to take away the way your body was shaking or stop the tears from falling. So she posed the question she believed would make you feel better.

“Would you like me to look for George?”

It did nothing but make your mood worse. Angelina picked up on it. “Wait. Is George the reason you are crying?” She didn't think of it as a first choice because she'd seen you and George together. You were so in love with each other that some people would consider it sickening. She and your other friends were always making fun of the fact that you had the young twin wrapped around your finger. So the idea of George hurting you was unthinkable. “What did that dimwit do?”

“H-he... he ch- cheated,” your voice broke through the sobs. Angelina's expression changed from concerned to angry as soon as the words left your mouth.

“Bloody git,” your friend muttered under her breath as she tightened her embrace around you, rubbing your back, trying to comfort you. “He doesn't deserve you, Y/N.”

“Why did he do that, Angie? Was I not good enough?”

“No way, no how. Don’t think that. This has nothing to do with you. You hear me? He’s an idiot for doing that to you. It's his loss because he'll never find anyone better than you.”

You'd been avoiding him all week, which was driving George insane. Were you upset with him? He had no idea what he had done to irritate you, and he couldn't apologize to you because every time he entered the same room as you, you left.

He missed you. He missed sitting next to you at lunch and wrapping his arm around your shoulder just to feel the sensation of touching you, he missed you forcing him to watch muggle movies and him complaining but secretly loving it because he couldn't take his gaze away from you every time he asked something he didn't understand and you eagerly explaining it to him. He missed your late-night sneak outs after curfew to the Black Lake to spend time alone.

George just missed you.

And when he asked Angelina if he knew what was wrong with you and she gave him a murderous glare just to leave seconds later he knew something was up.

"I just wish I knew what I'd done." His body collapsed on one of the Gryffindor common room couches as he complained to his twin brother about the situation he found himself in.

"It must have been pretty bad if even Angie is upset with you."

“Did she say anything to you?” He inquired, hopeful. Perhaps his brother's girlfriend had confided in him, but when he saw Fred shaking his head, he sulked once more.

“I’m sorry, mate. I asked, but she just said ‘Ask George’.” The older twin mimicked the words that left his girlfriend’s mouth days prior.

“So I’ve done something.” His voice was exasperated, tired even. “How am I supposed to fix it if I have no idea what I did in the first place?”

“It’s really not that difficult. You just have to stop thinking I’m an idiot that was never going to find out about it.”

George turned to see you standing behind him. You had a solemn expression on your face that matched your hard tone. You were carrying a box in your arms, which you carelessly dropped on the floor. He caught a glimpse of what you were carrying and noticed a sweater with the letter G knitter in the middle, pictures of the two of you together, and a slew of other things he gave to you throughout your relationship.

“Love, I-” You cut him off before he could say anything.

“Don’t call me that.” You kicked the box on the floor to bring it closer to him. “Take it. I don’t want it. I don’t want anything that has to do with you.”

“What have you done, mate?” Fred couldn't believe what he was seeing with his eyes. It was the first time he'd seen you upset. Like, really upset. Usually, when he and George did something stupid, you would pretend to be angry and roll your eyes at them, but a smile always formed on your face, revealing that you were just messing with them. This time, however, there was no smile. Just a stoic expression on your delicate features.

George turned to face his twin, but said nothing. This resulted in a dry chuckle leaving your mouth. “Yeah, Georgie,” The nickname he loved to hear from you, always with such tenderness, was now laced with venom, and it made George’s stomach twist. “Why don’t you tell your dear brother what you have done?”

But, once again, George simply stood there in front of you, completely helpless, which only infuriated you even more. Not only could he not admit the truth to you, but he couldn’t tell his own twin brother, either?

Seeing that his brother was not going to say anything, Fred opted for asking you. “What did he do, Y/N?”

“He cheated on me,” you stated unequivocally. The boys in front of you had completely different reactions. Fred appeared stunned. He would have expected you to say anything other but those words. He knew how much in love with you his twin was. George never shut up about you, about how perfect, smart, funny and nice you were. He even talked about proposing to you once you graduated. So he couldn’t fully believe that George was stupid enough to throw it all that away. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, seemed perplexed; he, too, had not expected that response.

“He did what?”

You shrugged, not really interested in prolonging the situation. But before you could exit the common room, you felt compelled to deliver the punchline. “You should give those to Romilda; I'm sure she'd love them.” As you kicked the box on the floor again, you made sure to emphasise the sarcasm in your voice.

“Romilda? What are you talking about?”

“Did you get with Romilda Vane?” Fred scrunched up his nose, a disgusted expression on his face.

“Yes, he did.” “No, I didn’t.” You and George both responded at the same time.

Fred's gaze shifted from you to his brother a few times before he rose from the couch. “I believe it is best if I leave. This appears to be a private conversation.” Before heading up the stairs to the dorms, the ginger boy patted his brother on the back.

George returned his focus to you. “Y/N, what is going on? Where did you get the idea that I was cheating on you with Romilda Vane from?”

“So, you're going to keep denying it?”

“Yes, I’m going to keep denying it, because it’s not true.”

“If it’s not true then why have you been cancelling our dates? Or disappearing for hours just to give me a lame excuse about it. Like you did with the mark on your neck.”

George stroked the bruise on his neck with his left hand “You reckon it’s a lovebite?” He asked dumbfounded. “I thought you were smarter than that, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. But obviously we were both wrong. Because if I was smart I would have seen it for myself and not needed Rionach O'Neal to point it out to me”

George groaned, running his hand through his unkempt hair. “So you believed a rumor spread by a classmate. That's fantastic, Y/N. It's wonderful to see how much trust you have in me.”

Was he being serious? He had no right to be offended and turn this into a personal attack. “I believe what I see. And all I’ve seen for the past few weeks is my boyfriend neglecting me.”

You vowed to yourself that you would not cry in front of him. You were not going to give him that satisfaction. He didn't deserve your tears, as Angelina said. But you were an emotional person and this conversation was getting the best of you. This is not how you imagined it would be. You were simply supposed to hand George the box containing his belongings and walk away from him. He wasn't supposed to respond by questioning your actions.

When he saw how broken you looked, George's expression softened. “I’m sorry, love. It was never my intention to make you feel that way.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You didn’t find it in you to call him out about the term of endearment. You were tired and you didn’t want to fight anymore.

“It does matter. Look, I know how my actions for the past weeks must have looked, but I swear on my life that I am not cheating on you with Romilda Vane. Or any other girl, for that matter. You are the only one I am interested in. You are the only one I see. I love you, Y/N. You are the first girl I ever loved. I've never felt this way about anyone.”

During George's speech, you remained silent, your gaze fixed on the floor. You didn't feel capable of holding his gaze. Your boyfriend approached you with caution, testing the waters. When he saw you didn't take a step back, he reached his hand to your face, softly grabbing your chin and lifting it so your eyes could finally meet.

“What have you been up to these past weeks then?” Your voice was soft, almost shy. You wanted to believe George’s words. You desperately wanted to believe George's words. You truly did. But there were still things that didn't add up, and you wanted to be certain before making a decision you might regret later.

George sighed. “Do you know what day is tomorrow?” You frowned at the odd question. “Tuesday?” He let out a small chuckle at your confusion. “Yes. But what day is it?”

“March 12th.” And then it clicked. “Our anniversary.”

How could you have forgotten? You had been so busy being mad at George, and trying to avoid him, that it completely slipped your mind that your 3 year anniversary was coming up.

“I've been planning this surprise for you. I wanted to make it special. That's why I've been disappearing and cancelling our plans. I wanted it to be perfect. You can ask Fred and Lee; they’ve been helping me out.”

He spoke again before you could respond. "Please wait here." He said, and you watched him fade away as he strode up the stairs to his dorm.

Just a few minutes later, he was back in front of you, holding a small box and motioning for you to take it. You took the small box from his grasp and carefully opened it. When you saw what was inside, you let out a small gasp.

The turquoise bay blue sea glass was wrapped in a wire, a starfish charm and a freshwater pearl hanging from the chain as well. This had to be the most beautiful pendant you had ever seen.

“I made it myself.” George’s voice made you tear your glassy eyes from the pendant. “I remember how you said you loved the sea, and how you used to go every summer with your parents when you were a kid, so I wanted you to have something that reminds you of that, I guess.”

You couldn't keep the tears from falling anymore, so you let them. You were overtaken by guilt. You'd been ignoring George for the past week with no explanation, not caring how he felt. And you had treated him so badly earlier, when you dropped the box containing all of your memories like it was trash. On the other hand, he was working on a meaningful, one-of-a-kind gift for your anniversary. And when you yelled at him and were nothing but rude to him, he could have become enraged and yelled back at you, but he didn't. He remained calm, because that’s who George was, and you didn’t deserve him.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “I’m really sorry.”

When you began to shake, George tightly wrapped his arms around you. You hid your face in his chest, and he rested his chin on your head while kissing you lightly. “It’s alright, love.”

When you pulled apart, he cupped your face in his hands, wiping the remaining tears with his thumbs. “I should have come to you, and asked you about it. I shouldn’t have believed Rionach right away. But I let my self-doubts get the best of me and-” George placed his index finger on your lips, preventing you from speaking further.

“It’s alright, Y/N. Really. Don’t worry your pretty little mind about it anymore.”

“So, do you forgive me?”

Your boyfriend smiled at you, sweetly. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

You cast a quick glance at the pendant still resting on the small box in your hand, then returned your attention to your boyfriend. “I know it’s not our anniversary yet, but would you mind putting it on me?”

George smiled as he removed the pendant from the box and hung it around your neck. “It’s really beautiful. I love it, George.”

“Anything for you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his hands quickly moved to your waist, drawing you closer to him. He looked down, meeting your gaze, now tear-free. “I love you, Georgie.”

“I love you, too, love.” He closed the small gap between you, his lips meeting yours for the first time in a week.

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