#weasley twins one shot

[weasleysbliss]

𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

pairing: george weasley x gryffindor!reader

summary: when y/n is asked to tutor george weasley, she expects nothing but chaos. but as their study sessions turn into moments of laughter and vulnerability, what starts as an obligation blossoms into an unexpected romance.

word count: 2.7k

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You were the top student in your Potions class—well, pretty much in all of your classes. With an average just shy of 100, you managed to outdo your friend and academic rival, Hermione Granger. Sometimes, you couldn't help but wonder how you weren't placed in Ravenclaw.

You were patiently waiting in Professor McGonagall's office, as she'd asked you to be there at 10 a.m. sharp. It was already 10:05, but you didn't mind. After all, she had hundreds—if not thousands—of students to deal with every day. You couldn't imagine being in her position; it must be incredibly stressful.

You saw Professor McGonagall quickly walk into the office. "Sorry, dear, I wasn’t expecting to be late. I had to deal with one of the twins again. Fred and those fireworks he won’t stop setting off... I can’t seem to catch a break," she said, clearly irritated. You chuckled.

Fred, along with his twin George, were infamous for their pranks—especially their fireworks. You weren’t particularly close with the twins, though you knew George from Potions class. You’d never really talked, but you’d heard plenty about their mischief. This definitely wasn’t the first time they’d caused trouble.

"No worries, Professor, I’m in no rush,” you reassured her. “Speaking of Fred, I actually called you in here to ask if you'd be willing to tutor his brother, George. His struggle is with Potions, and I know you’d be a great help, Miss L/N."

Her request caught you off guard for a moment. You had no problem tutoring anyone—especially since you were confident in all of your academic abilities. But George? Would you even withstand a single session without him pulling at least ten stunts on you? Despite not exactly wanting your "client" to be George, you couldn’t let Professor McGonagall down.

"Yes, of course, I'd be delighted to tutor him." Not that you were exactly thrilled. You didn’t have a problem with George, but you could already imagine the chaos his pranks would bring. If he pulled anything on you... well, you’d just have to pray you could withstand it.

Nonetheless, you had high hopes.

"Lovely! You both can start tomorrow at 6 p.m. in the library," she said. "I will let him know about the schedule. You'll be expected to tutor him three times a week. I have no doubt his grades will improve with your help." She gave you a warm smile, clearly pleased that you accepted her request.

You returned her smile and made your way out of her office. Now, all that was left was to wait for your first session tomorrow evening.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day, 6 p.m. rolled around much faster than you anticipated. You spent most of the day going over your notes and brainstorming effective ways to tutor him.

You found a seat in the library, one that George would be able to see when he walked in. Shortly after you settled in, his tall, lean figure appeared in the doorway. Your eyes met for a moment, exchanging weak but genuine smiles, before he walked over and took a seat beside you.

"Glad you came, Weasley," you said, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, though it wasn't meant badly. "Not like I had much of a choice, y’know. McGonagall practically twisted my arm…" he laughed. "But I have to admit, I was pretty lucky to get you as my tutor. You’re brilliant, Miss L/N—though I probably shouldn’t inflate your ego too much." You chuckled at how formal he sounded when using your last name.

"Yes, well… I'll try my best to make this session quick and effective. I'm sure you have plenty of other things to do outside of this," you said, scrambling through your notes. "Don’t worry about it, I’ve got all the time in the world," he assured, smiling. His comment made your cheeks heat up, but you quickly brushed it off as you laid out the notes.

"Right, let's begin!" you cheerfully said.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Nearly 45 minutes into your session, everything was going smoothly. You’d covered most of the first topic you wanted to go over, and George seemed to be doing well with it so far. However, there was just a little bit left of the lesson to finish.

"Okay, and finally…" you began, but you were cut off when you noticed the cup of ink you had dipped your pen in was gone. "Oh… did I misplace it somewhere?" you said, your voice tinged with confusion.

"Have you seen the cup of ink, George?" you asked, still looking around in a frenzy. "No," he replied simply, his nasty and mischievous smirk making it clear he knew something you didn’t. "George, stop messing around. Give it to me," you said, trying to remain calm. You only had a couple more things to explain, and you were ready to be done. You weren’t having it with his pranks, though you knew they were coming.

The cup of ink came into clear view when George stood up, holding it high above his head. "Reach for it, if you dare," he laughed, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to reach it. "George, cut it out!" you said, clearly annoyed. You didn’t even try to get it; it would be impossible unless he brought it down some inches shorter.

Seeing the irritation on your face, George finally lowered the cup, holding it out in front of you. Just as you reached for it, he quickly pulled his hand away, making your face burn with embarrassment. "George, stop! We’ve been here for an hour already, don’t you want to leave?" you said quietly, trying to keep your frustration in check.

"I dunno, there’s just something hilarious about you when you’re mad," he said, a grin slowly creeping onto his face. He finally placed the cup on the desk, your eyes following his hand. Now, you can get back to finishing the lesson.

Once the session came to an end, you both discussed when you'd meet again—two days from now. "Same time, same place. Don’t be late," you said, your tone firm. "Right atcha," he replied with a playful salute before spinning on his heel and heading out of the library.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day wasn't one of your tutoring days, but you decided to sit next to George in Potions class. After all, you were tutoring him in the subject, and you figured it’d be a good chance to get to know him better outside of academics.

"Well, well, well," he sang as he saw you take a seat next to him. "Oh, shut up," you said, swatting his arm playfully.

For the entire period, you both got to know each other on a more personal level. Not too personal, but enough to now be considered 'acquaintances'.

George Weasley wasn’t as bad as you’d expected.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Next day, second tutoring session.

You and George met up at the same spot, same time. Library, at 6 p.m.

"Okay, now that you’ve learned what I taught you a few days ago, it’s time to apply it to an actual potion. This is when you’ll actually make one." you said, pointing to the empty glass tubes.

You handed him a piece of paper with a specific potion written on it—the one you’d ordered him to make. He took the paper and got to work. You watched his every move, from the way he added the ingredients to the tube, to the way his hands moved.

Something about his hands intrigued you. They were veiny, slim, and just perfect overall. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud explosion-like sound.

Your gaze immediately shifted to the glass tube, where black smoke was billowing out and clouding the air. He must’ve added the wrong ingredient.

"Guess I didn’t quite hit the mark with the studying, did I.." he muttered quietly. Yeah, clearly. The notes you’d given him to study had gone to waste—he’d messed up one of the easiest potions to make.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but despite the mistake, a laugh escaped you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another two days later, another tutoring session awaited you.

This time, you really hoped George’s effort would get you somewhere, rather than wasting both of your time.

"Believe it or not, I actually did some studying this time. Turns out your notes are pretty brilliant—who would’ve thought?" he said as you both stepped into the library. "Wow, Weasley. I’m impressed, but let’s see if it paid off," you replied, smirking at his comment.

You handed him another potion to make, this one more difficult than the last. To your surprise, he actually perfected it. It warmed your heart knowing he’d put in such great effort.

"Told you," he said, showing off his creation like a nine-year-old flaunting a Lego set he’d built.

It was nice seeing him improve, finally succeeding in something he’d struggled with, all with your help.

"Nice one, Georgie!" you cheered, patting him on the shoulder. "Trust me, if you keep this up, you'll be in the high 80s."

"Yeah, I definitely need that. A 52 isn’t exactly something to brag about, is it?" He said, a bit embarrassed, but with a playful tone. He had clearly exposed his grade, a bit more than he intended.

Your hand was still on his shoulder, but neither of you seemed to mind. You didn’t think of letting go. "Don’t let yourself down. We all start somewhere. And you’re getting better—thanks to me," you said, flicking your hair away as you emphasized your contribution. He laughed at your sassy move, clearly amused by your confidence.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another session went by, then another, and many more after that.

You were seeing George every day—whether it was sitting with him in Potions class, during your occasional tutoring sessions, or even grabbing coffee and lunch together now and then. Though those outings weren’t exactly romantic, they still felt special in their own way.

He'd made immense progress, and it was clear when he told you he was averaging an 85 in the class.

Just like that, in two months, he’d gone from a 52 to an 85. Needless to say, you were proud—of both yourself and George. You felt accomplished, knowing you’d successfully helped a student improve their grade, and proud of George for sticking with the sessions and putting in the effort.

Despite his rare pranks and annoying moments, he made the sessions much more fun than they should’ve been.

Rather than being professional and straightforward, the sessions almost always turned into the opposite—filled with laughter, inside jokes, casual flirting, and lessons that took far longer to finish because of it.

You didn’t realize it at first, but those two months spent together had made you develop feelings for him. Not a full-blown crush, but something close. You’d gotten to see the things that made him attractive, and more importantly, a good person.

His lean, masculine figure, his hands, and his noble, humble, and brave personality made you realize he wasn’t all chaos and jokes.

He was exactly your type—almost everything you'd wished for in a guy. His good looks weren’t something he flaunted; instead, he prioritized maintaining a reputation for being generous and courageous.

You admired that about him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

On one particular tutoring session, which was close to being one of your last—since he was already excelling in the class—you both shared a moment you'd never forget.

After your usual laughs at one of his ridiculous jokes, he suddenly shifted the atmosphere, his tone turning serious.

"Y/N, you do realize this is one of our last sessions, yeah?" He asked.

"I know. I’m going to miss moments like these. But hey, it’s not like we won’t still have class together! And I see you every day, stop being dramatic," you replied, playfully shoving him, earning a chuckle in return.

"I know, but I feel like these sessions are what really built our friendship. Honestly, if McGonagall hadn’t set this up, I’m not sure where we’d be." He said.

What he said was completely true, and you’d even considered it yourself. Where would you guys have ended up, in terms of your relationship, if Professor McGonagall hadn’t played matchmaker? It was like a butterfly effect.

"Yeah, I don’t think either of us would’ve spoken to each other," you laughed. In your defense, you wouldn’t have talked to George back then. You’d thought very differently of him.

"You're right. I'm scared of pretty women," he said.

That one simple comment made a thousand, if not a billion, butterflies erupt in your stomach. He always knew exactly what to say to earn a blush from you.

You were too flustered to respond, so instead, you shot him a small, shy smile, afraid you’d say something you would regret.

"I’m glad she paired us together, though," he said, breaking the silence. "Well, I happen to like you—a lot, actually. And somehow, it all snuck up on me so fast." he confessed.

His words sent your heart racing, pounding faster than it ever should. This was one of the rare moments where both of you were completely vulnerable and serious with each other.

"I’m really glad you enjoyed my company, Georgie. Honestly, these sessions meant more to me than just schoolwork." You hesitated for a moment, a small smile on your face. "You make me feel so… at ease. Like I can just be myself. And, well, I didn’t expect to get so attached, but here I am."

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and his eyes widened slightly at your statement. For a moment, panic gripped you.

Oh gosh. What if he didn’t mean it like that? What if he only sees me as a friend? Did I just romantically confess to him? Am I dreaming? Get a grip, Y/N!

"You like me, L/N, don’t you?" he said, not even posing it as a question.

Your cheeks flushed instantly at the sound of your last name on his lips.

You couldn’t outright deny it—that would be a lie. But admitting it felt too direct, too vulnerable.

Standing against one of the library tables, you avoided his gaze, your lips sealed as you struggled to find the right words. Deep down, you knew the truth—you liked him.

He stood from his seat and stepped closer, closing the space between you. His finger lightly grazed your chin, gently tilting your face to meet his eyes.

"There’s only one answer," he murmured. "Let’s not lie now."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you fumbled for a response, finally managing a soft, unsure, "Maybe."

By now, your bodies were so close that his warmth seeped into you, making your breath hitch.

"I thought so," he said, his voice low and almost teasing, his gaze locking with yours.

Your eyes remained locked on his, staring into the rich, chocolatey depths of his gaze.

"Y’know, you’re not exactly subtle about how you feel, Y/N. But lucky for you, I’m happy to help," he said, his voice soft but confident.

Confusion flickered across your face for only a moment before it was replaced by the warmth of his lips pressing against yours. One hand found the small of your back, the other resting gently at your waist. The world seemed to stop as you froze in the moment, every part of you except your lips paralyzed by the intensity.

Your lips moved in sync with his, creating a rhythm that sent heat coursing through your body. Slowly, your hands unfroze, snaking their way around his neck and pulling him closer.

As if the ten seconds of kissing weren’t enough, George seemed in no rush to stop. His hands moved to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and setting you on the table behind you.

Now, with nothing to steady but each other, you let yourself melt into him.

His hands slid from your thighs to your hips, his fingertips brushing the fabric of your skirt. Your own hands stayed around his neck, tugging him even closer until there was no space left between you.

The kiss was electric—otherworldly. It wasn’t just passion; it was connection. It felt like bliss, the kind of moment you never wanted to end.

This wasn’t your first kiss, but it was the first one that made you feel completely and utterly alive.

Unbeknownst to either of you, every tutoring session had been its own lesson—a lesson in love.

[mystcldydrms]

LIBRARY ADORATION - FRED WEASLEY

summary: a book isn't the only thing fred weasley wants you to have

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: fluff

notes: you know how much I love books and libraries. I just had to write this one. also please be aware that I haven't written anything for probably 6 months. I'm slowly getting back into it.

You stood in front of one of the many bookshelves of the Hogwarts library, your eyes scanning the spines of the books. The words already started to blur; however, you shook your head lightly, focusing on the titles as best as possible.

You had abandoned your essay, which was due in two days, on a table, alongside two books that had helped you tremendously while writing it, however, you still needed one more that could help you while writing your essay.

For a few more minutes, you kept looking everywhere. You knew exactly which book you needed. One of your fellow students had told you about it. Unfortunately for you, she had forgotten in which section she had found it, hence, here you were, looking at every shelf that was dedicated to the history of magic.

“Where are you?” you whispered to yourself, rounding yet another corner to go and look at yet another shelf. This time, you weren’t alone.

In the corner sat Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan. They had noticed your presence right away. You saw them quickly shielding their notes from you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes slightly. You didn’t feel the need to know what they were whispering about. You didn’t care about their schemes or plans. Well, you did, but not at that moment. You just wanted to grab your book and finish your essay.

Your eyes looked at yet another couple of books until they finally landed on the one you needed the most. You took one more step towards the shelf and tried to grab the book, which, unfortunately, was almost at the top. You let out an almost inaudible sigh. Although you tried to stand on your tiptoes, you couldn’t reach the book with your hand.

You weren’t small. You had an average height for a girl your age. But why couldn’t you reach the book? Of course, you could use your wand and get it, however, your wand was in the pocket of your robe. And that robe was almost all the way across the library.

“Do you need a hand?”

You jumped lightly, and although that voice had talked to you in a whisper, you were surprised to hear it. You turned your head to the right and noticed Fred Weasley standing right next to you, a teasing smile on his lips.

The three Gryffindors must have watched you while you struggled to grab the book. You immediately felt the embarrassment and the heat that was starting to make its way up to your face, turning your cheeks a light shade of red. Another sigh escaped your lips as you nodded your head.

“Which one is it?”

“The one with the brown spine. Magic Mysteries.”

Fred nodded his head before he easily extended his arm and grabbed the book you needed. A proud smile graced his lips as he handed it to you, your fingertips lightly brushing his.

“Thank you.”, you whispered as you pressed the book against your chest, looking up into his eyes.

“No problem. Why did you need this one?”

You caught a glimpse of Lee and George, who slightly snickered behind Fred until they noticed you looking at them. They quickly looked at their notes again, pretending to write something down. You giggled lightly, shaking your head before you looked into Fred’s eyes again, a smile already on his lips. Did it even leave? You didn’t know, but you liked it that way.

“I have an essay due in two days. I’m almost done, but I still need a few more details. What about you? What are you doing?” you asked curiously.

Yes, you didn’t really care about it when you first saw them scheming something in their little corner, but you didn’t want your conversation with Fred to end so soon. You liked talking to him, always have. It was easy. You couldn’t call yourself friends, however, you were in the same house, and you greeted each other whenever you saw one another in the castle. And sometimes, you even had a conversation.

Did you have a crush on the ginger-haired boy? Yes. But who wouldn’t? Every girl in their right mind could see that the twins were two good-looking boys.

“Oh, nothing important. Just a few notes for a future project.”, Fred explained, snapping you out of your little daydream about him.

“Sounds fun?” you said, grinning up at him.

“Well, I better get back and finish my essay. Have fun. I’ll see you around.”

Before you rounded the corner, you stole one last glance at Fred, who hadn’t turned around yet, but rather stayed where he was, locking eyes with you. You could swear you saw a shimmer of red on his cheeks, however, after looking at books for such a long time, you weren’t so sure of your focus anymore.

After another hour of reading and writing, you had finally finished your essay, but before you could get up and pack everything away, you noticed someone sitting down next to you.

“Fancy seeing you here.”, you heard a male voice say.

A bright smile immediately graced your lips as you turned your head and, once again, looked into the eyes of Fred Weasley.

“I know. I swear I saw you an hour ago just behind that bookshelf over there.”, you said, both of you laughing lightly.

“Have you finished your essay yet?”

“Yes, finally. I can’t write another one for at least a week now. I can’t even focus on words anymore.”

Fred couldn’t help but laugh again. You had that effect on him. You were funny, you knew how to hold a conversation, and you laughed about all his jokes, which was one of the reasons he had started to fall for you. Of course, you were also a beautiful girl.

You saw one another in the castle every day and talked every other day, but for him, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. He needed to talk to you every day, laugh with you, hold you … and finally find out how your lips felt on his.

“Can I ask you something?” Fred blurted out, a bit louder than intended. Madame Pince was instantly by your side, staring angrily down at the ginger-haired boy who only shrugged and mumbled ‘sorry’.

You giggled quietly, watching how Madame Pince walked away before your eyes landed on Fred again, who was already watching you, a dreamy smile gracing his lips.

“Go ahead. What do you want to ask me?”

To say that you were curious was an understatement. You were nervous. What could Fred Weasley ask you? Did he need help with an essay? Did he need help with his future project?

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday? Just the two of us, I mean.”

Your eyes widened; your mouth lightly opened as you tried to process his words. Fred just asked you out on a date. And he wanted it to happen this Saturday.

‘Wow’, you thought to yourself, as you nervously started to play with your fingers.

You had no idea how long you were quiet, but you could see the way Fred started to fidget. He kept staring at you, waiting for an answer.

“Yes.”, you whispered. “Yes, of course. I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

The young man that sat next to you couldn’t help but clap his hands together before he stood up and triumphantly put his hands in the air.

“Fred. Stop.”, you said, giggling, taking his robe in your hands, trying to pull him down onto his chair again, but he didn’t bother. He just stood there and looked at you with the brightest smile you had ever seen on his face.

“You just made my day so much better.”, he confessed, leaning down until he was face to face with you, your eyes on one level.

You studied his face, first his eyes, then his lips, the freckles on his cheeks, until your eyes landed on his again. You knew that you were blushing again, but you didn’t care. You were beyond happy.

“I have to get going now. George and Lee are probably already wondering where I am, but I will see you later in the common room. We could discuss our date.”

The only thing you could do was nod your head while Fred sent you a small wink before he turned around and made his way out of the library.

Your heart was pounding like crazy in your chest. You felt the butterflies flying around in your stomach. You and Fred. You and Fred on a date.

Too stunned to do anything else, you just sat in the library for a few more minutes until you regained your strength and started packing up your things, already looking forward to seeing Fred in the common room.

[mallowsweetmiri]

The twins find out Hufflepuff reader is the school dealer

I think it would be such a cute trope that you’re secretly growing and selling 🍃 herbs 🍃 to the entire school as the hufflepuff herbology prodigy and when the twins find out it’s you they become obsessed.

[sweetpandorabox]

Fred Weasley as a boyfriend 💥🦁

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.

Dating this troublemaker yet funnier and sexy twin could include:

👨🏻‍🦰🪦🧹

He's very affectionate in a playful kind of way, for example, he can pick you up like a ragdoll and would playfully threaten to throw you in the black lake, tackle hugs, rest his chin right on top of your head because he's built like a tree, smacks your ass, pinch your cheeks and harmless prank here and there to make you laugh.

He's lowkey the jealous type but plays it off well and hides it away from you because if you caught him jealous he knows you'll never drop it.

Still flirts and tease you like you guys aren't already dating. Sending a wink and smile your way and whispering dirty yet clever pickup lines all the time to see you blush.

Him being lowkey a bad influence on you by taking you along and breaking the school rules to pull pranks, but somehow the best memories that the two of you have together are of breaking rules and being silly teenagers together.

Pulling faces, sending notes, hitting you with paper balls at you during classes to get your attention if he isn't sitting next to you, because if there's anything that Fred loves most it's your attention.

You guys have a deal, he teaches you how to juggle, cartwheel and cast cool spells in return for you helping him with his school work.

He loves PDA and is not ashamed of it and would pull it anywhere he could, in some occasions he's gotten told to keep his hand off you just for an hour until class ends by numerous different professors.

The both of you have a special place where you're able to just hold each other and snog whenever you feel like it, so to mark the place Fred carved both of your initials inside of a big heart on a nearby tree by that spot so everyone knows who this place belongs to.

Stealing all of his knitted sweaters and hoodies because they're much larger on you, but then he asks Molly to make one for you this Christmas with your initial on it and you got super excited that you wear it every day for a month.

Likes when you call him Freddie, Baby, Good-looking, Spitfire, or Casanova (you call him that before the both of you started dating and still use it at times).

He calls you cute nicknames like Baby, Lover-Girl, Sexy, or Sunshine.

His love language is probably quality time because spending time with you and making memories with you is what he cherishes most.

He stares at you all the time and can't keep his eyes off you, one time he full-on ditched his school work and was looking at you focusing on your own thing while he plays with your ponytail the entire time.

Molly adores you because of how much the both of you bonded through food, she teaches you how to make Fred's favorite meal and she encourages you to stay over at the burrow as much as possible because to be honest, she likes how Fred is when you're around and Molly may or may not like you more than Fred.

Asks for messages after a rough Quidditch practice or games that usually elevate to something more... a.k.a sex.

He asks for your opinion on the joke shop products he and George have come up with but doesn't dare make you try them because he doesn't want to see you hurt or be embarrassed.

Dance party inside his shared dorm room with snacks when everyone is away and blaring out his phonograph with the weird sister's newest record player album.

Him sneaking into your shared dorm room quietly and frequently because he wants to sleep with you and not in his own bed, so it's not unusual for your roommates to see a shirtless Fred cuddling you in the morning.

Joking and confusing new people who don’t understand your relationship; Are you dating? Enemies? Friends? (but in the end, he can't keep his hands off you anyways so they're bound to know)

Him leaving all of his classes early just so he can meet you outside and escort you to your next class so he can have those extra moments with you.

Taglist:

@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl

[lidiasloca]

Hii how are you? I like your blog<33 Can I make a request about George Weasley? The reader is a Slytherin. There is a romantic attraction between George and the reader; they may even become lovers. One day, while the two are talking, George asks her why the Sorting Hat thought about her for so long in the past. The other house the Sorting Hat had in mind for her was Gryffindor. She has always kept it a secret because of her family, but finally decides to tell George about it.~

george's slytherin girl

george weasley x you

fluff

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“Just tell me,” George urged for the fifth time that afternoon. It didn’t help that he was hugging you around the waist as you lay on the sofa, his sweet caresses further coercing you.

“No,” you laughed, feeling helpless against his curiosity. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Ugh,” he groaned in feigned frustration. “That just makes me want to know even more.” He squeezed your waist, making you giggle. “Tell me why the Sorting Hat took so long with you.”

You pressed your lips together, pondering whether to finally give in and confess. It had all happened such a long time ago—yet George still remembered that ridiculous Sorting Hat perched on your head. Maybe you could tell him after all.

“Alright,” you mumbled, feeling defeated.

He let out a childish giggle of pure joy, clapping his hands together like an overexcited child—although he was far from it.

“Well, do you remember we had already seen each other before the Sorting?” You waited for him to nod. “And do you recall how I went red immediately? How I tried to hide from you?”

“I didn’t think you were trying to hide from me. Was I that hideous?” he asked, grinning like a fool.

You pointedly ignored him. “Well, I was very timid back then. Very.” You took a breath. “And I kind of liked you—very much.”

His grin morphed into a cocky smirk. “Did you, now?”

“Oh, shut up.” He pretended to zip his lips. “And then it was the ceremony. You got sorted into Gryffindor, and when the Sorting Hat was on my head, I prayed it wouldn’t put me in the same house as you. I knew I’d live with the constant fear and hope of finding you around every corner. So, I begged. The Sorting Hat’s first guess was to put me in Gryffindor, but after hearing my prayer, it kindly placed me in Slytherin.”

You feared you had rushed through the story when you saw the surprised look on George’s face.

“Say something,” you said, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice.

“Sweetheart…” he breathed.

“What?” you asked, nerves bubbling up inside you.

Then he burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed at your serious face. At last, catching his breath, he said, “You are so adorable, Y/N. You got into Slytherin because you had a crush on me—shouldn’t that be in Hogwarts history books?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, really. It’s actually a pity we aren’t in the same house.”

“No, it’s not. I couldn’t have borne more than a few minutes in your presence.”

“Liar,” he replied lovingly, still sporting that smirk.

“Besides,” you continued, “I love Slytherin.”

“Alright, that’s true. But still, if you were in Gryffindor, we wouldn’t have to fight anyone who finds us in the common room,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“And that’s exactly why I know I’m perfectly suited for Slytherin. I love a good quarrel.” He chuckled at the sight of your mischievous smirk. 

“My Slytherin girl.”

-Characters by J K Rowling

a/n: maybe not the sort of mistery fic you asked for, anon. hope you enjoyed it nonethelss. i really liked the idea 💞

[siriusblackloml]

just for me - george weasley x reader smut (PART 3)

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: george weasley x fem!reader

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 11.7k

𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩: “i was wondering if you could maybe write anything abt virgin killer!george weasley?? like im sorry hes the finest mf around ik he gets MAD hoes so when he finally acknowledges this preppy, nice and innocent mc he jus knows he has to ruin her"

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: he fucked up. quite horribly, too. george swooped in, made his move, and tried to get on his life like he always does after he's finished with a random hookup. now you were avoiding him and pretty much making him live in agony as a result of his shitty actions. george will soon come to realize you had a much larger impact on his life than he would ever imagine.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, a LOT of angst

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: i’m still not done with this series but instead of keeping it three parts, i decided to add a fourth :) i hope you all enjoy this and please forgive me for the very long wait. i’ve had so much going on irl. part four is coming soon!

part one ┊ part two ┊part three ┊pt. 4 coming soon!

George had a funny little hop in his step as he walked through the grass. Not that it was truly intentional. He was just…very, very happy. There was too much adrenaline fogging his brain to really comprehend anything in this moment of time. He was acting as though he hadn’t just fucked you senseless in the field of grass outside the school. 

He felt proud of himself. He thought that this moment was worth all the celebrating in the world. All of his hard work had built up towards this moment and it paid off so much. You were absolutely amazing. Actually, he wondered to himself, was it possible to say that you were perfect? If he had to be honest with himself, you were everything he wanted in a girl. 

Physically, of course. It’s not like he was looking to start a relationship or anything. Sure, he just told you that he would see you around, but he had to use that more as a lie to try and leave the precious moment between you two on a positive note. False hope, deception, bullshit, call it anything you want, George didn’t regret it. He knew that if he just walked away he probably would have left you crying right there on the spot. He’s not sure he would ever be able to forgive himself if he did that. 

At the end of the day, George knew better than to actually see you again. That’s why from here on out, it would be nothing more than talking in class. If he even brought himself to do that. 

George couldn’t shake the smile from his face as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, contrasting the chilly breeze outside. Not that he was cold; the boy was still quite feverish from how hard he had just fucked you. Students were chatting amongst one another about their day and what was to come for the rest of the night. George noticed some students who were admirably trying to complete homework in the midst of the constant chatter. He thought of you for a split second. Remembering all the time you spend studying for homework and exams. He literally interrupted you studying earlier, but you didn’t seem to mind. 

Those thoughts of you were immediately discarded once he noticed a familiar duo in the corner of the room arguing with one another. It was George’s younger brother, Ron, and his friend Hermoine. What the two of them were arguing about was unbeknownst to him, but George caught the eye of someone sitting in a chair eating candy, watching the scene unfold like it was a drama. It was Fred, his fiery-red haired twin, who was popping the sweet treats into his mouth like he was eating popcorn at the movie theater. It must have been very entertaining watching Ron and Hermoine argue, as Fred couldn’t seem to pry his eyes off the show in front of him. 

George walks up to Fred and snaps his fingers. He immediately catches the attention of Fred, who boggles at him as if to ask, what the hell do you want? George motions for the boy to follow him. Fred gets up from his seat and follows George up the flight of stairs towards the empty dormitories. George seemingly couldn’t break the smile on his face so Fred immediately knew what was going on.

As soon as they were out of earshot of other people, Fred asked George, “So? Did it finally happen?”

George nods his head excitedly and eagerly answers, “Yes! It did!”

The twin embraces his brother with a cheeky clap of hand that morphed into a side hug. He was obviously very proud of George for his achievement. It’s not every day you take your classmate's virginity in the middle of a grassy field. Not that Fred really needed to know that last small detail. 

“I can’t believe you popped her cherry. I didn’t think she was ever going to budge.” Fred shakes his head in disbelief. The brother was referring to the fact he knew of your innocence. George remembers back to the day his twin told him about how you were positively a virgin. He could have sworn he melted on the spot from the newfound information. It was at that moment he knew he needed to be the one to ruin your innocence. 

And innocent you were. Well, for the most part, anyway. Your mouth depicted otherwise given all the profanity you were throwing at George. He couldn’t get over how mouthy you were during the entire session. The pathetic begging, the whining, the swearing. It was like heaven to his ears. It only made him want to drill his cock inside your pretty pussy even harder. Which he did, of course, and he loved watching the way your face would contort into pleasure at every thrust. 

Fred clapped his brother’s shoulder, pulling George from his daydreaming. He said in a cheerful tone, “Good for you, mate. So when are you seeing her again?” 

Fred’s brother immediately scoffs at the question. George thinks to himself, as if that’s happening. He had a very set rule for himself which was so straightforward it would take an absolute idiot to not understand. This easy rule was simple to follow; he didn’t give any of his hookups a second chance. They were a one and one time only situation. George was afraid that if he were to consistently see the same girl, he would give the impression that he wanted things to develop into something more. Of course he did like the girls, but it was more so for their physical appearance over their personality. Not that yours was bad, he actually quite enjoyed talking to you. 

Maybe even a little more than any other girl. You did leave his heart fluttering every now and then, which was strange for George to understand because it had never happened before. The boy shakes his head. He can’t keep thinking about you. No girl had ever left him so flustered before and he was not about to let that ruin his night of celebration. Celebrating you, of course. Or more so, the dirty act you two shared. 

To avoid giving you any kind of false hope, George plans to keep to himself from here on out. George tells his brother, “No, I don’t want her to think I’m, like, into her, know what I mean?” 

Fred shrugs out of confusion and raises an eyebrow, immediately striking back with, “Well, I kinda figured that’s what you wanted.” 

George’s heart stops beating for just a split second. As if something shocked his entire body. What was Fred implying? Why would he assume that of his brother knowing his reputation? Hell, Fred has encouraged George in the past to avoid being with a girl more than one time to avoid the start of a relationship. Fred must know deep down that you weren’t any different from the rest of the girls George had been with…right? 

George narrows his eyes at Fred and asks, “What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you like her? I thought…well, I guess I was wrong.” Fred trails off as he notices George seemed very tense. 

He was tense, and for good reason. George was nearly offended that his brother would ever assume that of him. He never broke the cycle in the past to see a girl more than once, why would he do it now? 

But then again, why would Fred figure that in the first place? Was George doing something specific that would have implied that idea? Other than frequently talking to Y/N in class, calling her cute, and….no, any guy can do that and it doesn’t mean he wants to drop everything and date the girl right that second. Plus, George only hung out with you to get closer…obviously. Nothing more than just that. Fred was just jumping to conclusions. Conclusions he had no business assuming in the first place.

George stays silent and avoids the lingering gaze of his twin. He turns away from Fred as an indication that he no longer wanted to talk, to which his brother complied almost immediately. Fred left the room without much of anything else to say. Once George heard the door shut close, he walked across the bedroom towards a long floor length mirror to look at his disheveled appearance. 

His clothes were untidy from the aftermath that was you. George rather liked this sight of his unkempt appearance knowing it was because of your bloody sex. He smirked to himself as he adjusted his clothes, tucking his shirt into his trousers and fixing his tie. Just looking at his clothes reminded him of everything with you. 

The sweetness of your moans, the tightness of your wet cunt, the way your face looked underneath his power. In the midst of him reminiscing, he thought back to the first time he ever saw you in class. That pretty girl was so far gone now. The girl he first met was completely different from the girl he just saw in the field. Her innocence was gone, stolen from her, in a way that was rough and possibly even catastrophic. 

The girl George knew first was too sweet for her own good. He almost…missed it. The way you blushed so easily from any of his flirty comments, or the little gasps that escaped your mouth from every tiny brush of his hand. 

These memories started to flash across the boy’s mind before he could even process them all. The countless times he would flirt with you behind Snape’s back, your sneaky giggles to avoid catching attention from the professor, all the times you would have to help him with his homework because he was absolutely clueless. The way he would glance at your hair because you always styled them in the cutest clips…or the way he would stare at your face because you were absolutely beautiful.

Then again, George loved staring at your face when you were underneath him, writhing in pleasure from the force of his cock. He needed to remind himself that whatever innocent girl he first met was far gone now. He destroyed her, deflowered her, anything he could think of, he did it. And shouldn’t he be proud of himself for that? 

At this moment, George heard his stomach start to grumble. He realized that he had not eaten anything since earlier this morning and was quite hungry. George finishes fixing his clothes and grabs his robe, trying to ignore the thoughts flooding his mind of how he tied a robe to a fucking tree just an hour earlier. 

Within minutes, he found himself going downstairs into the common room and finding a group of his friends and brothers already planning to march towards the Great Hall for dinner. George immediately tags along, jumping into conversation as if he had been there the whole time. As the group of boys wandered down hallways and waltzed around cold corridors, they would joke about anything and everything possible. George loves these nights with his friends where nothing else matters but how much fun they’re having. His mind had barely any focus on you anymore.

However, that did not last very long. Once George arrived at the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but steal a glance towards the table you would typically sit for meals. Your seat was vacant, though. Completely empty while the remainder of your friends sat in their own respective spots, chatting as if nothing was wrong. Clearly there was something wrong; you weren’t here for dinner. 

George thought of this as strange. He assumed that enough time had passed that you would have already come back to the school, gotten cleaned up, and would be coming downstairs for your meal. Maybe you were running late, he thought to himself. 

He shrugs his shoulders and turns back towards his friends, cracking joke after joke that erupted the entire group of boys into massive fits of laughter. Even though George was having a good time, his mind couldn’t stay focused on his friends for long. 

Every few minutes he’d get the urge to see if you were walking in the room. He’d frequently look towards the grand doors, walking students flood in and out, but never would he spot your cute hairclips amongst the crowd of people. He would even look back at your spot at the table. Ten minutes had passed, then it was twenty, now it was nearing thirty, George still couldn’t find you. 

Was it possible that you just stayed in the field after George left? He wondered this to himself, biting his lip in frustration because all he wanted to know was that you were okay. Why? He didn’t have the answer for that. But as long as he was able to see you, that’s all that mattered to George. Where on earth had you gone? There were multiple questions scattered across the boy’s mind and he hated not knowing anything. 

Sitting in the Great Hall trying to chase for an answer in his mind was giving George enough frustration to leave the group of friends early. He complained of being tired, to which his friends all chuckled deeply knowing why he would have been so exhausted (Fred’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he realized his brother had sex in a field). 

The boy left his group of friends to wander the hallways of Hogwarts. He flew up a flight of stairs to get to the second floor, maneuvering his way through a crowd of people to try and find a very particular window. It was one that overlooked the territory surrounding Hogwarts. It was an important window to him as it was pointed in the direction of the same tree you would have been sitting under. George secretly hoped he would be able to see a tiny, black dot under this tree, indicating that you had never left your spot after all.

Upon arrival at this windowsill that George had been desperately trying to look for, he peered outside only to see nothing. There was not one black speck amongst the green grass that would have implied you were still studying your materials. This meant you left the tree long ago, that you were probably wandering the school now doing Godric knows what. 

Why did this leave George feeling…uneasy? His heart dropped when he realized that you were no longer outside. He hated this feeling because it was completely new to him. It also brought on an array of questions, the most common one that crossed his mind being, why on earth does he care so much about a girl he hooked up with? Why was he so worried? Why did he hope to find you so desperately? It wasn’t like he was planning on talking to you, or anything more than that really.

George went to sleep that night with you on his mind. It was hard to fall asleep in the first place, however. He was tossing and turning for an hour straight trying not to worry about your current whereabouts. Unfortunately, George didn’t sleep long either. 

He’d wake up just a few hours into the night from a nightmare. It was a dream in which he lost you forever. 

»——•——«

The next day…

»——•——«

George felt a massive shift in the atmosphere the moment he woke up. He had a weird gut feeling about today, mostly because he was worried about where you’d gone last night. However, his worries would only worsen upon his first period class. 

You didn’t show up. To be more specific, you didn’t show up to Professor Snape’s class, which is a huge no-no in not only the professor’s book, but your own as well. You’d never missed class before as far as George was aware. Having to miss any kind of class nearly disgusted you, and you were for sure always present in Snape’s class given the consequences that would likely follow. The professor was keen on giving detention just for missing one class period. Not that you would probably earn one since you were his star student.

What on earth would have caused you to miss class? George wondered if there was a sort of emergency that you had to attend to, but his gut told him otherwise. His stomach felt like there was a knot in it the moment he walked into the room and didn’t see you. He had already felt uneasy just during the walk to the classroom. 

George didn’t see you in the hallway like he usually would in the mornings. He silently hoped and wished it was only because you had already arrived to class early, or maybe it was because you happened to be running late. Even if that was the case, he still felt weird about it because you were always to arrive at class at a very particular time. 

The boy started catching on that you would try and time your walk in the hallway so that the two of you would arrive at the doorway nearly at the exact same time. George never made a comment about this to you; he secretly thought it was adorable that you were so head over heels for him that you would go to such lengths to be sure you both arrived at the same time. 

And here he was, reminiscing those memories. They all felt lightyears away now. He took advantage of those days. The ones where he could admire you walking down the hallway in your cute skirt and hairclips, then he got to wink at you during class at random intervals. A million questions raced through his mind. So much so, that he couldn’t focus on a single word that came out of Snape’s mouth. Not that he usually paid much attention anyway. He would always be too distracted by your beauty. 

Amongst the million questions that ran through his head, one question continued to linger on George’s mind while he sat in class; had he ruined things between you two?

He never asked himself this kind of question before because it has never been an issue in the past. He moved on easily every single time he had been with a girl, why couldn’t he let you go? 

What caused this to start? His infatuation with you, that is. Was it just because you guys talked frequently during class? Well that couldn’t be all, there had been times George hooked up with girls he knew for years and never felt this way before. Was it only because he knew you were a virgin? While that factor going into sex with you was very exciting, it wouldn’t be enough for him to be this obsessed with your unknown whereabouts. 

George tried finding something that would have sparked his sudden interest in you, when his heart dropped in the middle of a thought. The realization hits him like a brick and his breath is immediately knocked out of his lungs. The past day has been spent worrying not only about where you were, but just you in general. Absolutely nothing else mattered in the world but you. 

While George wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, he didn’t need a genius to tell him that he was falling for you. That realization alone was enough to shake him to his core. It was as though everything in his brain had shut off completely, all except that circuit that left his mind running on loop thinking about you and you only. And maybe it wasn’t exactly love that he was feeling, but it was definitely…something. It was the sort of “something” that made George want to drop everything he was doing just to be with you. Because even if it wasn’t love that he was experiencing, the boy knew he was feeling something intense for you and needed to share that with you as soon as possible. 

Given he was in quite possibly the most boring classroom of all, George didn’t even give his plan a second thought. He collected his belongings and shoved them into his bag, got up from his desk, and exited the room without a word. The only thing on his mind was finding you. 

With a rapidly beating heart and sweaty palms, George started to pace the hallways in hopes he would randomly catch sight of you around a corridor. When that plan failed, he stood still for a few minutes to try and pinpoint exactly where you could have been. While it was possible that you were simply hiding in your house dormitory from the rest of the world, George played with the idea that you were possibly hiding in the library. The only reason he could think of such a place was not only because he knew how studious you were, it was the only other location that you two shared. 

It was really only that, the classroom, and that damn field. Having to think about the field burned a massive hole in George’s heart. He knew now, after some reflection, that what he did was awfully wrong. How he didn’t realize it before was beyond him. He was too caught up with his ego and so used to dropping a girl as quick as he saw her, he assumed everything would be the same when it came to you. 

You were different though. George knew that now. And having to think back to the way he used you in that field yesterday made him gulp hard. He wondered, why did he put you through that? He felt like complete shit now. 

All he could think about was you. How you must have felt about all this. Surely enough, you must have felt used. You didn’t deserve that. George stormed down the hallway, ears ringing with anticipation to find you as soon as possible. 

»——•——«

You had been sitting in the library by yourself. Well, obviously you had been. Everyone else was in their respective classes at the time. Not you, though. It was just too much to bear right now with how fresh yesterday’s situation was. 

The fact that you were skipping class made you feel so beyond guilty. For a second, you thought you must have been insane to even consider the idea in the first place. You’d never skipped class before, so going through with the last minute plan was enough to make you bite your nails out of anxiety. However, nothing could compare to the feeling that would have hit you if you had to sit through class next to George Weasley.

Just that thought alone made you sick to your stomach. It would have been a million times worse than what you were feeling now. You knew that you couldn’t skip the next class period with him, however even if you got a chance to skip today, you’d take it. You couldn’t bear looking at his face…as if nothing ever happened between you two. 

Was this what you were made for? To be used by men? That’s all you felt right now; used.

If you had the chance, you would have gone back in time and changed the narrative entirely. You would have stolen that freaking time-turner from Professor McGonagall just to stop yourself from getting hypnotized by his charm. George Weasley was reckless and it affected you too much. 

You were careful before you met the boy. Very cautious, you kept to yourself. Never once did you ever consider lusting after a boy the way you did for George, dreaming up a fantasy where the two of you were happily ever after. And now everything in your life is crashing down all around you. As if you’ve lost complete control. 

You were as reckless as he was. 

He sucked you into this kind of void and it left you unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to think straight. That’s why you were hiding in the library. If the thought of George was making you feel this uneasy, you couldn’t even fathom what would have happened today if you walked into class and sat right next to him.

As if nothing had happened. 

You wondered if you would have been able to contain yourself if you did end up going to class anyway. You’re not sure if you would have cried, screamed at him, or just stayed silent. You were not one to really stand up for yourself, but then again, so much has changed about yourself in the last few weeks you weren’t sure if that was so true anymore. 

The library was dead silent besides your occasional turn of the pages in your book. You busied yourself by catching up on some reading you were meant to read yesterday. While you did your best to read the book last night in bed, it was quite difficult to focus with the amount of tears that welled up in your eyes. Thankfully, you were a bit more composed today and felt confident enough to tackle a couple chapters during this quiet time. 

As you sat silently, taking in the information about an aging potion, you could hear a door open in the distance of the library. The noise was followed by footsteps that increased in volume, indicating that someone was definitely walking in your direction. You can’t help but look up at the noise, half expecting to see either one of your girlfriends or even Snape himself wondering why you weren’t in class.

However, nothing could have prepared you for the boy who was walking towards you. It was George, of course. Because who else would it be at this time of day?

Immediately your eyes widen as your stomach sinks. It felt like the entire world was falling apart around you in an instant. You could have sworn that your heart skipped multiple beats in a row. Just the sight of George was nearly giving you a heart attack. What on earth did he have to say? Better yet, what were you going to say? Was he even worth the talk?

Gulping silently, you just watch as he approaches you in the dead silent room. He seemed to slow down his pace the moment you two made eye contact. As much as you wished it would have been enough to stop him dead in his tracks, he kept walking towards you. He adjusts his tie and clears his throat as casually as possible.

Without asking for permission, George pulls out the chair to your right and seats himself. He jumps right into a sort of interrogation, asking you, “Why weren’t you in class?”

You have to tell yourself to act like you don’t care that he’s here. Obviously he didn’t care about you enough yesterday to stay with you in that field, or even talk to you in general about what you two were. You were just a toy for him to fuck and get over in a matter of minutes. Keeping this in mind, and partially taking notice of the anger that was clearly bubbling inside you, you sneer at George and mutter under your breath, “I didn’t feel like it.”

Not your strongest moment, but it was blunt and rude. You figured it would get the point across that you weren’t very happy with him. So much for not letting it seem like it bothered you. You realized it was a bit harder to hold back your emotion than you originally thought. That doesn’t mean you’re going to beat yourself up over this, though. You would much rather seem angry in front of George than sad or depressed. The last thing you want to do is bawl in front of him.

Did he really deserve to even know that you were angry with him though? You started to regret even talking to him in the first place. Too many questions were swirling around your mind for you to find focus. It made your head pound with pain.

“I need to ask you something.” George tells you while awkwardly biting his lip and shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He starts to pull hair away from his face and run his fingers through his hair. It takes a lot of power to try not to notice how attractive he looked whenever he played with his hair like that.

Your back straightens and you instinctively lean in towards him, eager to hear what he has to say. You respond in a dry tone, “What is it?”

Suddenly, George is leaning forward and grabbing you by the chin with his fingers, forcing your eyes to take in his weary face. You gasp quietly, heart feeling like it was being stabbed, it was throbbing so hard.

He asks you in a frantic voice, “Things feel different for you, too, don’t they?”

You raise an eyebrow, confused. Things? Between the two of you? Well…of course they were different. Before yesterday, you two were just classmates that would flirt. Now, you didn’t even know whatever “this” was. It was disgusting, that’s what you thought to yourself. It left you feeling used.

So what the hell was he implying? You let him hold your chin a while longer and ask softly, “What do you mean?”

George blinks once, twice, three times before he gulps hard.

“I-Well-…I don’t know…” He starts to sputter out anything that comes to mind. He can’t seem to explain himself fast enough, or find the words in general.

You pull away from his grasp, narrowing your eyes as you pick apart his act. This was all fake, wasn’t it? Just another fucking plan to woo you? He would act all pitiful and sad to express how much he didn’t mean it, all just to see you naked again. That’s exactly what this was.

“You’re just trying to get in my pants again, aren’t you?” You snap at George with a nasty tone. You stand up from your chair dramatically, hearing the scrape of wood against stone echo throughout the empty library.

George stands up nearly as quick as you do the moment the words are leaving your mouth. He tries to extend his arms out to grasp you, but misses as you take a step back. Throwing everything in your backpack as fast as you possibly can, you notice George in the corner of your eye starting to inch closer to you again with a nervous voice, “W-What?! No! Y/N, I swear-”

You throw all your books in your bag and slam the chair into the desk, snapping at George with a newfound fury you hadn’t realized was inside you all this time. You tell him, “Do me a favor George; leave me the FUCK alone.”

It was obvious that the sentence alone was enough of a threat to the boy. The anger laced in your tongue hits George like a million knives, putting him in his place immediately. He falls silent immediately, watching you walk away from the scene without another word.

However, what he didn’t see was the tears building up along your lash line. As much as you hated his guts, you were still falling madly in love with the idiot. You hated yourself as much as you hated him.

»——•——«

Two days later…

»——•——«

George knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, but he didn’t realize just how damn sneaky you could really be. After the horrific interaction in the library just days before, the boy wouldn’t see you again until the next session in Professor Snape’s potion class. He no longer saw you in the hallways or the Great Hall. You obviously made a substantial deal to be sure that there would be little to no chance of ever seeing you outside of class again.

Not seeing you for days straight made George feel even worse. He wasn’t sure if he should have looked forward to potions or not, assuming that you would be there of course. Sure enough, you were present in class, but it did not make the situation any better. When George walked into the room, he immediately spotted you at the front of the classroom speaking to Professor Snape in hushed whispers. Whatever was being discussed, Snape looked very concerned.

Such an indication did not stop George from calling out your name. In a loud voice, he said across the room, “Hey, Y/N!”

He wasn’t even quite sure why he said your name, if he had to be honest with himself. It kind of slipped out before he had time to process it all. Maybe his gut thought that trying to talk to you in class was going to go better than how the discussion went down in the library a couple days prior. Perhaps the crowd surrounding you two would force you to act a bit nicer; allow him to get his words out and express his feelings about everything.

Both you and Snape turn to look at George, who is awkwardly waving and sheepishly smiling. But in an instant you shoot him a glare. Even Professor Snape was scowling at him. While this was a normal occurrence for George in front of just about any teacher, it seemed that Snape was going out of his way to make his scowl even deeper and nastier than usual.

Right away, you had seated yourself in a chair closest to the professor’s desk. Keeping your back to George, he was forced to position his gaze back on his professor. Snape’s dirty look did not go away as he gave out instructions. “George, you’ll be sitting in this seat for the rest of the year.”

The teacher walked George to his new spot, which was the furthest point from your new seat at the front of the classroom. He was all the way in the back. This kind of seating chart is a great opportunity for a prankster like George to unleash his full potential on the entire class, but he couldn’t even relish in this once in a lifetime lucky chance he’d been granted. The boy felt everything opposite of that expected feeling.

George’s stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. He realized very quickly that you had purposely asked for this separation from him. Whatever you told Snape, it was to avoid having any further conversation with George during class.

He was convinced he was going to lose his mind over you. He had to get a hold of you, and soon.

»——•——«

Many weeks later...

»——•——«

You thought you were going to lose your mind having to avoid the boy like this, day in and out. At this point, it was becoming a routine. One that you had to follow religiously in order to avoid any kind of possible conflict with George.

Of course, deep down you want to listen to what he has to say. You know it might be valuable in a sense…but at the same time, he deceived you once, he could easily do it again. How were you supposed to know he wasn’t trying to apologize just to appeal to your sensitive side, only to try and slide into your pants once again? Something like this was too difficult to decipher. Therefore, you were much more comfortable just glancing at George from a far distance. He didn’t deserve to talk to you…as much as you wanted to talk to him.

One night, as you are exiting the Great Hall after eating a delicious meal, you begin to make your way to the dormitories. Your mind is too preoccupied on the immense amount of homework you have later tonight to hear the sound of footsteps following close behind you. It’s not until the fiery-red haired boy is in your peripheral vision that you realize someone was near you.

In a matter of seconds, your heart drops into your stomach without even having to look George directly in the face. He had your full attention now without even having to try, let alone look at him.

While your heart was pounding out of your chest, you tried your best to focus more on how annoying it was becoming that George wasn’t going to let you go so easily. Why did he want to talk to you so badly anyway? Just to have sex again? With an eye roll, you pick up the pace and start to walk faster down the hallway. You had hoped that the silent treatment would work enough to scare him away.

George attaches himself to your side immediately and says, “Y/N, stop, please. I want to talk to you.”

Keeping your head forward, he is only met with silence. Obviously angered by your immature attitude, he scoffs under his breath and reveals a nasty look on his face; as if that was meant to make you feel bad for him.

It was amusing to see him get his knickers in a twist just from not speaking. It was almost hard to hold back from smirking in front of the boy. However, deep down you were still just as scared of talking to George as you were most days since everything occurred. He just had this kind of effect on you where it felt like no matter how angry you acted around him, your heart was still soft for his stupid antics.

You didn’t dare reveal that to him; you were still recovering from the massive damage he had done to your emotional state. You shuffle past George as fast as possible, still refusing to make any sort of eye contact with him.

Eventually, he jumps right in front of you, preventing you from moving anymore. You jump from the action and immediately snap, “What on earth do you want with me, George?”

He takes a step forward to close the gap, his eyes staring deeply into your own. He starts to stumble over his words, “G-Godric, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d ever…I just wanted to…bloody hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“Then don’t bother, okay?” You tell him, moving around his figure to get away from the conversation. It’s hard to believe he has anything worthwhile to tell you in the first place. However, there’s still a small sliver of hope that resides in your being, and it’s just enough to tell George, “I’ll see you around.”

You’re not sure what you mean when you say this. You figure that maybe it’s enough to keep you two on good terms. He didn’t really deserve more than that though. He was an ass and literally used you. But your heart ached for him nonetheless. You were always going to miss him, so why bother keeping up this anger front for the rest of the school year? It was killing you just to do it right now.

The boy doesn’t take long to get the hint. He stands still and merely watches you walk away. You can practically feel his eyes bearing a hole through the back of your skull from how hard he was staring.

Later that night, while you are lying in bed struggling to sleep thanks to all that was on your mind, you thought back to earlier. What was it he wanted to say to you? Why was it so urgent?

Curiosity would eventually kill the cat.

»——•——«

It's been months since that day in the field. You would still go out of your way to avoid George, and he has slowly stopped trying to make conversation with you entirely. Your heart ached for him each and every day, though. You missed having those silly conversations in class, waving to him in the Great Hall, and so much more. Part of you was even missing all those times he would desperately try to get your attention only for you to ignore it. You thought of it for the better, but looking back on it all, had that really been the best choice?

You can hear his little friend group whisper among themselves whenever you and George are ever in the same room with one another. There was no doubt they knew about everything that happened. Which only made you feel more like shit; how dare they know you lost your virginity to a classmate you had fallen so deeply for. Not once had you ever felt so humiliated before. This was not how you expected your last year at Hogwarts to go. You anticipated much more out of this year. Laughing, studying, maybe some crying here and there, but not over a boy who used you for sex. That was the last thing you ever considered to happen to you.

In a weird sort of way, George felt much like the yin to your yang. The way the two of you could come together and have so much fun despite your differing personalities always blew you away. He completed the missing pieces within you. It was an act that you didn’t think was possible, especially knowing it was someone you met so recently. That being said, you can’t help but miss those moments of bliss with one another.

Just the thought of him makes you shudder. Not out of disgust, but due to the ache in your heart that desired more from him. If anything, it was likely to be from the immense guilt and shame that clouded your every being since the day everything happened with George. Why on earth would you miss someone like him when he was so mean?

It is winter break now. A large majority of students had left to go home, but you were staying at Hogwarts. The last few days were spent reading books you meant to catch up on ages ago. You had to occasionally flit around the hallways in order to avoid the Weasleys. It was so convenient that they happened to be here during the holidays at the same time as you. But at this point in the year, you had started to grow used to it all. It’s all you could do in order to “cope” with the sadness that hung heavy in your heart.

You were in the library again, turning page after page in your book. You were slowly catching yourself starting to space out. Rightly so, as it had been a couple hours of sitting here and you were slowly growing hungry. You could barely focus when your stomach continuously growls.

As you start to put away your book in your bag, alongside anything else you had pulled out, you could hear footsteps walking past you. You didn’t think much of it until you heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, Y/N.” George says.

A chill runs up your spin, hair standing up on the back of your neck. Goosebumps trail up and down your arms as your throat runs dry. If it wasn’t obvious you were nervous before, it was now. Your eyes shot up towards the boy, watching him stand near you with a soft smile and blushed cheeks. This hadn’t been how you anticipated the night to go at all, but you couldn’t bear to embarrass yourself any longer.

You muster up enough courage to respond back. “Hey, George.”

“How are you doing?” He replies, watching you closely as you continue to put away your belongings into your bag at a slow pace. Your hands were shaking slightly from the anxiety coursing through your veins. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d wager that George was in the exact same boat as you were.

He was clutching a couple books tight to his chest, finger tapping anxiously along the spines. He kept swaying back and forth, biting his lip and avoiding eye contact on occasion.

It had been so long since the two of you last spoke. You knew deep down you had been wanting this for ages, missing these small conversations. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be civil, at least this once, you wondered to yourself. You had never held a grudge for so long before, and you weren’t about to let it continue. Maybe this was your chance to let bygones be bygones and let George know that you’ve moved on (that’s a big lie, but what he doesn’t have to know won’t hurt him).

So, you decide to interact with him some more. You tell him, “I’ve been doing fine.”

George cracks that gorgeous smile of his and nods his head. He chimes in, “Good, good, I’m happy to hear that.”

You decide not to comment on that. However, there is no denying that little explosion of butterflies in your stomach. Well, that and the loud rumble that follows.

Your stomach growls out of hunger once again, clearly indicating between both parties that you were getting hungrier by the second. Cheeks red from embarrassment, you try to save yourself by saying, “I’m heading to the Great Hall. Just wanted to get in some light reading before supper.”

“Can I walk with you?” George asks as soon as you’re finished speaking.

His voice was soft despite the request filling you with fear in an instant. You did want to walk with him, but what were his intentions? The prospect of having to venture anywhere with George at your side was slightly concerning since you hadn’t done so since…well, before everything.

You shoot him a slight glare, immediately questionable about why he wanted to. He picked up on this, placing his hands in a defensive position and exclaiming, “I’m going there already! I was just about to leave for supper myself. I figured if you were going, maybe we could walk together. That’s all I wanted.”

Maybe it’s the innocence of his request, or those stupid puppy dog eyes, but you’re not entirely opposed to the idea. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to walk with him if that’s all that would come out of it in the end. Nothing more, nothing less. You knew eventually this would likely happen anyway. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

Simultaneously, you found yourself wondering if you were being foolish to even entertain the possibility of this. Only an idiot would want to walk with the same man who used her for sex; but here you were, being as foolish as ever. Due to his undeniable appeal and practically begging to walk with you, you’re giving him permission to be in your company. While your eyes were darting around anywhere in the room but George, you tell him, “That’s fine, you can join me.”

Walking out of the library with George next to your side feels strange. At the same time, you feel even weirder for thinking that. At some point during the school year, this felt so completely normal to you. Now it was all just an out of body experience. As if the two of you were strangers all over again. Your heart was beating so rapidly out of your chest you thought you were going to have a heart attack.

The hallways leading to the Great Hall were completely empty. It was likely that whatever remaining students that were on campus were eating at the moment. The echo of your and George’s footsteps, alongside the dim lighting, made the situation all the more stressful for you. It was like you were stuck in place despite moving closer and closer to your destination.

After a minute of walking and absolutely no words spoken, George breaks the silence. He asks, “Can I speak to you for just a moment?”

“Is it about all that happened between us?” You wonder, your throat constricts the more you talk. You’re sure you are on the verge of tears just from the thought of it all. However, maybe this was the closure that you needed. Maybe this is what you needed to move forward and get on with your life without worrying about some red-haired boy running amuck in the school hallways and classrooms.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, it’s about that. I have something really important I want to tell you, Y/N.”

You internally go back and forth about whether or not you want to hear it, wondering if what he has to say will truly have any meaning at all. George dislikes the long pause it takes for you to say anything. He steps in front of you and blocks your path. He places his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from being able to walk away.

You huff and puff out of annoyance, sneering at him to say, “Let go of me, George.”

“Y/N, please, I just-” He tightens his grip on your shoulders. This causes you to shake from his hold, just barely escaping and nearly dropping your bag in the process. You’re growing more and more irritated by the way he was acting. Why was he being so handsy with you?

You snap at him out of annoyance, “Why the fuck do you need to touch me to tell me something? Just get on with it already-”

George stomps his foot on the ground, the loud sound echoing the walls of the empty hallway. He yells, “Listen to me!”

For the first time in a while, you finally stare into his eyes. Genuinely taking in his appearance and the emotion that has struck his face. It was at this moment you realized just how…damaged he was. He was on the verge of tears and his frail body was shaking from fighting back the floodgates in his eyes. Your heart feels like it’s breaking in two just from the sight. As much as he frustrates you, seeing this side of him makes your stomach sink.

George frustratingly runs his fingers through his hair as if to try and get a better grip on the reality that was taking place before him. He frowns deeply and tries to find his words. He stumbles over his words multiple times, “I-I just felt like…I didn’t think…you-you have to believe me, Y/N, I-I would never-”

You take this as an opportunity to reverse the roles, softly placing a hand on his shoulder as if to silently offer his support. Obviously his words and frustrations were weighing him down, and if there was anything you could do to encourage him to get his worries off his chest, maybe this was it. Just a small act of kindness. He was so desperately trying to hold you in place before this, he must have not realized he was really the one who needed to be weighed down in the first place. Otherwise his mind was going to run a million miles an hour and he would get nowhere with his speech.

You want him to know you’re willing to listen now, to give him a chance. All he wants is to be heard. In your own way, you wanted that too.

You wished you had been able to go back in time to just take things slower with George, to have been able to say no to his lust and just try to take things slower with him…if that was even possible. You wondered if George would have stopped talking to you if he realized you weren’t so easy to crack. Then again, you always felt that there was a spark between the two of you. Maybe at the time, if you had given yourself a moment to really speak your mind, he would have respected your wishes and things would have remained the same between you two. There is no way of knowing now. All you can do to make up for the horrible experience is to hear what he has to say.

The act gives George a chance to catch his breath. You watch his chest rise and fall multiple times, listening to the way he calms himself with a simple breathing exercise. He sighs and drops his shoulders, and you mimic his actions to try and ease your own anxieties. This was not going to be an easy conversation by any means, but it was about time it happened.

Seeing him slowly grow more comfortable seemed to ease the tension. George found himself breathing properly again and nodding his head, as if slowly trying to get back to the point he was originally trying to make in the first place.

You’re growing anxious to hear what he has to say. You pull your hand away from his shoulder and cross your arms, watching the way he shifts his body weight back and forth on the balls of his feet.

After what feels like a million years, he finally confesses. “I am so, so sorry for the way I treated you earlier this year. You didn’t deserve that at all. I have no excuse for my behavior. I don’t know why, but for such a long time now I have gone through girl after girl and never felt anything quite nearly the same as I do for you. You had such an impact on me…Godric, I sound so cringey saying that, but it’s the truth. I really do like you, Y/N. Everything about you and not just your body. I am so sorry for all that I did.”

The moment he finishes with his speech, your ears start to ring. You feel as though his words have stunned you. He liked you…for you? Then why did he do the things that he did?

You raise an eyebrow and look him up and down, as if you were a predator sizing up your meal. You ask him, “Then why did you do it? You always knew I was a virgin, isn’t that why you started talking to me in the first place?”

The question made your stomach drop. Having to talk to George about this makes you feel extremely queasy. George’s tears start to well even larger than before. He bites his bottom lip and looks down at his feet. He tells you, “At first, I saw you as just another girl. I thought you would be the same as the rest of the girls I have been with. Obviously I came to develop feelings for you, but I thought that if I just went about things like I usually do, the feelings would go away and I’d be on my way. But I realized afterwards that wasn’t the case with you. You were so different from the rest.”

Your heart sank hearing him admit to it all. You knew deep down this had always been his plan, you knew that he literally only saw you as an object from the start. However, there was an odd sense of relief that washed over you when he finally admitted to it all. Even though these were all your suspicions, hearing George confirm it all felt like you were finally coming to terms with everything. If anything, you actually had more respect for him.

You appreciate that he told you all of this. Looking back on the last couple months, you wished that you had allowed him to talk previously. This entire time he had tried desperately to tell you all of this and you just shot him down.

Not that you really regret it, though. At the time, you were very unstable with your emotions and you’re not too sure how the conversation would have gone down if he spoke with you weeks prior to today. Not only are you appreciative of the fact he was so honest, but hearing him say that he liked you back…it was like a dream come true. Never did you think he would ever like you the same way you did him.

You stayed silent, and apparently it was too long. George spoke again out of fear that he had scared you, frantically saying, “Please say something. I know you’re not happy with me, but I just need to hear-”

“I forgive you.” You blurt out.

It’s George's turn to fall silent now. Neither of you spoke for a period of time; how long exactly was unclear to you, but it felt too long. Assuming it’s your chance to try and save the conversation, you continue, “I know I’m probably crazy for this, but I forgive you. It takes a lot of courage to go up to a girl and admit that you screwed her over. I like that you were upfront with me about it all.”

Without missing a beat, George smiles harder and harder hearing you admit to your forgiveness. He takes a step forward with his arms open for a hug, but you immediately shoot him down. Placing a hand on his chest, you halt all movement. His entire face is struck with worry, and his mouth opens to apologize. You cut him off and say, “Just because I forgive, doesn’t mean I forget. You hurt me George. It absolutely crushed my soul when the person I thought was becoming my best friend used me and stole my virginity without a second glance. It sucked. That’s why I couldn’t even stand to look at you in the hallways or the classroom, let alone talk to you.”

Tears are welling in your eyes now. Your throat contracts the more you speak, and you have to stop because you know if you go any further it would just develop in a crying session. George nods his head and chokes back more tears, unable to prevent the shakiness in his voice.

“I-I feel like shit, Y/N. Every single day since I realized I fucked up, all I’ve wanted to do was talk to you about this. Like I said before, you deserve so much better. Thank you for forgiving me, though. I feel…better, now that I’ve talked to you about this.”

You smile and shove George’s shoulder in a playful manner, trying to ignore the burning in your eyes from all the tears. “No problem. Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

George eyes you carefully as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said to him. If you had to be honest with yourself, you couldn’t either. However, now that the niceties were done and over with, you figured maybe starting over wouldn’t be such a bad idea with George. You can tell he’s genuinely sorry for all that he has done, and that he’s clearly changed drastically as a person (which you thought impossible for both Weasley twins).

Maybe dinner wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. You definitely weren’t going to do anything else with George. It would be too soon for that. Maybe a quick bite to eat while catching up on one another's lives would be enough for you tonight. Enough closure after this mess of a conversation. After this, you can go back to just being yourself and not have to worry about him anymore.

“W-We? You want to have dinner with me?” George asks you carefully.

You shrug your shoulders and start to slowly walk towards the Great Hall, George trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You tell him, “I don’t think it would hurt. Just for tonight, though. I figure we have a little catching up to do.”

George can’t stop smiling like an idiot, and you can’t either. Your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of happiness. You’re beyond excited that the two of you were talking again. Not that you planned on staying best of friends, but a mutual likeness should be enough to get you through the remainder of the school year. However, that is quite the opposite of what happens.

The rest of the winter, you and George started to say hi to one another in the hallway again. That transitioned into sitting with one another in the Great Hall, maybe only once or twice a week but it happened nonetheless. Eventually, you and George were talking on a daily basis. Your relationship was slowly reversing back to its old ways, except there was minimal flirting and absolutely no touching. You made sure to lay some ground rules with him once you realized you and George were getting close again.

He promised to respect your wishes, and he has listened graciously so far. Your boundaries were quite simple to follow, but given George’s track record, it was surprising to see him listen so well. All that you asked was to keep everything between the two of your friends only and nothing more. You felt that after all that had happened, it would be best for the both of you to strictly keep things “professional” and not try to rush into anything so soon.

There was no denying you still had feelings for him, and knowing that George liked you back made it hard to not flirt with him in any way. But deep down, you knew that this was for the better. You’d rushed into something with him once before and it had a horrible ending, therefore you couldn’t risk that again. However, things were definitely changing to say the least.

It was obvious in the way your conversations started to last longer than just a minute or so. When you and George graduated from the casual “hello” while in passing and began to have full length conversations again, you quickly realized he was just as whimsical as you had known him from the beginning of the year.

You could never lose a sense of wonder while in his presence. He always had something to tell you, or a funny story that kept you on the edge of your seat. It first occurred to you that you were definitely falling for him once again in the midst of watching George play a prank on Professor Snape during class (the poor guy did not expect his pants to catch on fire. For a split second he almost convinced himself it was the doing of Peeves once again, but realized by the smirk on George’s face that it was no other than the evil twin himself).

That prank could have gone so horribly wrong if Professor Snape hadn’t noticed the flame among his dress pants. And even with the understanding that George’s actions were devastatingly brutal and just downright mean, your stomach felt as though it might explode with laughter (that died very quickly thanks to the glare Snape shot at you).

Even when he used magic in wrongful ways, had a track record with girls a mile long, and had even used you for sex, there was something too forgiving in your nature to just let George go entirely. You realized that you wanted him in your life, either as a best friend or something more. There was something about him that brought you to life. The spark that was lit in your heart was only alive when he was around. You never wanted it to go out, and so you soon realized you never wanted to let him go again.

In your eyes, even with all the mistakes he has made, George enclosed you in a space that left you wanting more. It wasn’t like you were trapped; you weren’t drowning in insufferable conversations or anything of the sort, you absolutely loved his company. You didn’t realize just how much you actually missed it until he started coming around again.

On top of all this realization, there was the fact he had changed considerably as a dear friend. He was much more careful in the way he spoke or acted around you. He wanted to respect your boundaries and never put your relationship at risk again. This is what made you appreciate him so much.

However, there was an obvious change in the atmosphere amongst you two during the springtime.

Winter had come and gone, your conversations were still lively as ever though. Just a couple weeks prior, he had begun walking you to your next class after potions together. It was during one particular day that sparked a sudden change in both your demeanors.

After class, you and George were walking down the corridors together just talking about the upcoming assignments and what you thought would be the best strategy for studying (George needed the advice given his history of failing horribly). While walking, a group of first-years were running amuck in the hallways, nearly trampling over you in the process of it all. Loud yells and feet clamoring against the stone floors filled your ears, your eyes barely having time to process how to avoid all the commotion.

George, however, had thought far ahead of you and made sure to wrap his arm around your shoulder and shield you from the upcoming blows of young, immature eleven-year-olds. He pulled your body in towards his own, protecting you for that brief moment of chaos.

Your body felt like it was exploding from his touch, immediately sobering you up and pulling you from your crazy thoughts. You looked up at George as soon as all the commotion had died down, and he looked down at you. Your mouth felt like it was going slack as you stood there completely frozen under his arm. George bores holes in your eyes, staring at you as if silently asking if this kind of action was allowed within your boundaries.

Without having to hear him say anything, you say, “It’s fine.”

The two of you continued walking down the hallway, talking as though nothing had happened. However, something did happen. It was the start of something new.

For the remainder of that walk to your next period, George kept his arm wrapped around your body as though you were his girl. It struck you as an extraordinary situation that left you dumbfounded for days on end.

First, you couldn’t get over the fact that he did it in the first place. Second, you couldn’t get over the fact that you let it happen. Now would not be a great time to fall back into old habits. You weren’t ready for anything explicit with George just yet. However, at the same time, you liked how protective he was being. You enjoyed having his arm around you. In a weird way, you felt safer. You craved…more.

That strange shift in the air between you two never really left. It only lingered, and continued to emphasize the more the two of you hung out. After that fateful day in the beginning of March, the day that really started to change your relationship with George once again, each week there was a designated day where the two of you just spent time with one another.

While you didn’t know for sure if this meant your relationship with George was developing outside of a friendship, you knew in your heart that it was probably a good sign of something heading towards that direction. If you were able to tolerate his conversations in the hallways from time to time, you had enough courage to be with him in a more secluded setting. This is what began the scheduled meetings once every week where the two of you would simply do homework or sit around and read books.

That same feeling of rapid heartbeats and butterflies in your stomach always came back in full swing the moment you two were together. It gave you flashbacks to that day out in the meadow where he swept you off your feet in an instant. While that memory used to leave you frustrated beyond belief, you could now thankfully say that you don’t fully regret doing what you did with George. You could now tell yourself that it was all just a lesson you had to come and learn the hard way.

The lesson in question? Don’t rush.

George’s arm always found its way around you while the two of you hung out, but it never furthered past that. It would happen at any given point. If there was an opportunity that arose, he would do anything to make sure he could place his arm around you in a protective manner. And it would stay there the remainder of the time you two hung out.

No one ever commented on the matter, not even you, which led George to believe that it was okay to continue doing so. It definitely was, in your book.

It’s late April now, months since you and George finally reconnected again and were practically best of friends. The two of you were sitting on a bench in a random hallway somewhere in Hogwarts. Being in different houses meant you could not be in one another’s common rooms. This was the best you could get, but it was comfortable enough.

You sat next to George while his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch, reading from your book about fantastic beasts and where to find them. George had just finished making a joke about the appearance of this one animal in the book, and it had you giggling beyond belief. You look up at George, eyes full of happiness and excitement. He looks back down at you, smiling hard.

George enjoys taking you by surprise. He leaves you wanting more from him and fills your chest with warmth. You weren't sure precisely what it was that you wanted more of, but you were certain that you didn't want this moment to stop. The expression caught in his eyes was pure protectiveness. You felt protected not just by his arm enveloping you, but also by the expression on his face as he gazed back at you. You felt comfortable and secure with him because of the way he looked at you. It was as if he was silently telling you that he genuinely wanted you for you.

Suddenly, while taking a glance at your lips, he's asking you, “Can I take you out on a date, Y/N? Like, a proper one. I feel like I owe that to you after all I’ve done.”

In an instant, you’re blushing like mad. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re smiling before you even realize it. You just nod your head, telling him, “Yes, I’d really like that, George. Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond with words, merely gives you a quick squeeze and looks back at the book you were reading, silently encouraging you to finish the chapter you started earlier.

~

TAGLIST: @calmspencer, @baddiebbarbietngz, @slytherclaw1978, @serendipitous-fernweh, @pandanation24, @rachelreallyroars, @tinafuentes, @chvmpion-jack, @ethereallovr, @godknows-shetried, @waggoth, @ellieswhor3, @wildestdreamers-tv, @faefaes-world, @hahahafucku, @delusional-13s-blog

[peeves-gurl]

Thighs

Fred Weasley × BigThigh! Female

i literally have no idea where this is coming from after a year of writing nothing.

Summary: She hates her thighs, but her boyfriend loves them, and he wants to make sure she knows.

Warnings: established relationship, self hate, body dismorphia, lots of fluff, pet names (sweetheart/baby/darling/ love), mention of pregnancy, 18+ MDNI!!

FEMALE CHARACTER HAS NO NAME, AND NO SPECIFIC SKIN/EYE/HAIR COLOUR (partly because i couldn't make my brain come up with so many details😭)

smut: oral fem recieving, thigh fucking, face sitting, unprotected p in v, praise, body worship, hickeys? idk

She looked at herself in the mirror, light makeup highlighting her features beautifully. The thin straps of the sundress hanging across her shoulders, the top resting just above her bust, not exposing much, but not showing anything either. The fabric was a light powder blue with tiny flowers along its length, and it hugged her figure perfectly. It was the perfect summer dress, upto her mid thigh.

She looked alright in her opinion, good even, but for her thighs. They were too thick, with too many stretch marks. The cellulite was dimpled and heavy, and jiggled with each movement of hers, and it truly disgusted her with herself. She was okay with her body, and honestly thought she was attractive when she was dressed well, like today, but her thighs were always the problem.

Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she flung open the door of her wardrobe that she shared with Fred, and picked out a different dress. It was a pale pink one, loose and long, and extended beyond her knees, hiding her biggest insecurity. Still slightly grumpy, she completed the finishing touches to her look, when she heard her boyfriend's voice from the door.

"You ready love?" Fred called out, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah. All done." She smiled, grabbing her purse and slipping on her sandals, before walking towards the handsome man. He was dressed in a white tank top vest and blue jeans, and a blue and white floral shirt wrapped around his broad shoulders, completing the summery look.

Fred held out his hand to her, and she delicately placed her much smaller one into his, and he gently pulled her closer to himself. Placing a tender kiss on his lips, she smiled up at him, admiring his beautiful eyes and perfect freckles and his signature Weasley hair that she loved so much.

Fred's eyes trailed down her body in admiration, before he turned back to meet her eyes with a puzzled look.

"You didn't wear that dress?" He asked sincerely, hoping to finally see her in it since she had been so happy buying it weeks ago.

"Not in the mood." She lied, and he nodded convincingly, though he was anything but convinced by her answer.

"Gorgeous, never the less," he said, complimenting her as he always did.

"You more," she smiled, kissing his cheek.

Since buying the dress, it was the only thing that she had talked about. She gushed over how her bag and sandals went perfectly with it, and how she'd style her hair whenever she'd get the chance to wear it. And now, she stood there, wearing something else, and Fred was sure there was more to it than she was showing.

They hurriedly locked their place and apparated to their destination, Lee Jordan's housewarming party. It was just a close knit celebration that he and his girlfriend, Andrea, were hosting together, since moving into their first appartment in London.

She blended quickly among the known faces, smiling and chatting with all their old friends and then joining Andrea and Angelina in a small tour of the appartment. The entire party then ended up in the living room, and she, along with Fred, George and Angelina hopped around their circle, enjoying the little reunion they were having with the entire gang from Hogwarts.

Fred couldn't help but look at her. He always thought her to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and himself to be the luckiest man in the world, to be able to call her his girlfriend. He loved looking at her hair, her soft makeup and her smile, but today it wasn't as big as it always was, and he knew it wasn't as real, and it physically hurt him to not know the reason for it. He was sure it had something to do with her dress, because every time someone complimented her tonight, there seemed to be a bit of hesitation before she uttered her usual 'thank you'.

She'd been saving it up for some 'special occasion', and as soon as Lee had called to extend an invitation to the party, she had been delighted at the idea of getting to wear it the way she had wanted. Fred was happy that she was happy, and now she wasn't, and he didn't know why.

It was nearly midnight when the party ended, and Fred and George finally bid goodbye, ready with their plan to spend the next day together at their shop, as per usual. She hugged Angelina, and then got hold of Fred's hand and apparated them back to their front door. Fred unlocked it and hung the keys in their spot as she headed back to their room to change into her pajamas. The feeling of her thighs touching each other under the dress made her want to throw up. She felt disgusting in her body and she just wanted to cover herself from head to toe and bury herself quietly into the blankets.

Her expression must have given it away, because Fred walked into the room right as she took out her pajamas.

"Hey," whisper into her ear, kissing her neck softly, and his hands circled her waist. "Don't change just yet, love. I haven't had the chance to admire you properly tonight."

"The dress is a bit uncomfortable", she replied, trying to stop her voice from breaking.

"Just a few minutes, please?" He requested, and she complied, twisting around in his arms to finally face him. His eyes were so full of love for her that it nearly made her cry, and when he leaned down to press his lips to hers, a stray tear managed to find its way down her cheek.

"Baby what's wrong?" He asked, gently wiping the tear away.

"Nothing, just tired," she lied.

"Why didn't you wear that dress today?" He asked again, and she repeated her previous answer of not being in the mood to wear it.

"Don't lie to me," he condemned softly, and she knew she was caught. "Tell me love, why didn't you wear it?"

The singular tear that had made its way out of her eyes was now followed by many more, and before she knew, she was a sobbing mess in front of her boyfriend. Fred pulled her into himself and comforted her, his hands gliding over her back and just letting her know that he was there, and he would be there forever.

When she had finally calmed down, Fred gently guided her over to their bed, and sat down, as she stood before him with puffy and swollen eyes. He slowly pulled her onto himself, making her straddle his lap and resting his hands across her back.

"What's the matter Princess?" he coaxed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's something about that dress isn't it?"

She breathed in deeply, contemplating weather she should tell him or not. Of course she can tell him, he's Freddie, her Freddie, and he'd always understand.

"Ihatemythighs" she blurted out in a single breath, only to find Fred looking down at her, amused.

"Try saying that slower baby? I'm not that smart," he joked, earning a small smile.

"I hate my thighs," she said finally. "They're fat and ugly and they move around a lot, and that dress reveals them too much."

"Don't say that darling!" Fred said seriously, upset over what she'd just said about herself. "I've seen you try that dress on and you looked gorgeous!"

"Those trial room lights make everything look good, but I look horrid in that dress." She said.

"Do not say that about yourself," Fred scolded. "You're the most beautiful woman I've seen, with the most beautiful body and the most beautiful thighs. I won't hear anyone talk like that about you, even if you're the one saying it."

"You'd obviously say that, you're my boyfriend," she reasoned.

"I'm not lying sweetheart, I swear. You don't have to be insecure about anything." He said, only to be matched with a blank look from her.

"You don't believe me." He stated in disappointment, settling his hands over her thighs, through her dress, his fingers steadily moving towards the hem. "Can I?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable. She took a deep breath before nodding, allowing him to flip it up and run his fingers on the smooth skin.

"I love you. Every thing about you is perfect. You've got the most beautiful face, and I can't stop looking at it. Your eyes, your lips, your cute button nose," he said, leaning in to peck it. "I love your hair, and you look gorgeous when you leave it down. I love your neck, and that tiny freckle on your collarbone." He buried his nose at the base of her neck, breathing her scent, and nibbling gently.

"I love your boobs, and I can't stop thinking about them when you're not around, and your bum too," he smiled cheekily as his hands trailed up her thighs to gently squeeze her ass, and then returned to their previous place. "I love your arms, the way they wrap around my neck when I kiss you. And those damn hands, those fingers, could very well be the death of me." He smiled, kissing her exposed shoulder, and then her upper arm a few times.

"And your stomach is so soft darling. I love just looking at it, thinking if someday you'd let me put a baby in there?" He smiled, earning back a smile and a nod from her. "Your pussy, baby. I'm not even going to say anything, because you know she's better than drugs. And I love your legs, especially when you show them off in pretty skirts and dresses. I love it when you wrap them around me and pull me closer when I make love to you."

"So pretty," he whispered, caressing her thighs, barely audible. "Such beautiful thighs baby, so soft. I want to bury myself into them right fucking now."

"Freddie, please" she whispered back, not even sure what she was pleading for.

"Can I baby? Please?" He said, running his fingers over the smooth skin, and she nodded without thinking.

Fred's arms looped around her back, holding her tight to himself as he stood up and turned them around. He gently lay her down on the bed and got on between her legs. Leaning down to kiss her deeply, he whispered praises to her, making her feel so loved.

He kissed her neck and collarbone, leaving a few stray hickeys, and then pushed the straps of her dress aside to show the same love to her shoulders. Looking up at her for confirmation, he slipped her dress off her body and tossed it away in the room.

She was there now, in nothing but a pair of panties, and she could feel her usual confidence seep back into her body. She reached for Fred and pulled him back in, kissing him passionately and lovingly. Her hands fisted his shirt and pulled it off him, soon followed by his tank top vest, leaving his torso as bare as hers.

"Hmm that's how I like it," he encouraged into the kiss. Soon enough, he moved to her breasts, biting and sucking, and the room was filled with her moans. He kissed his way down to her panties, and she lifted her hips to let him pull them down. He placed her legs over his shoulders, and she shut her eyes in anticipation.

Instead of going right to her clit, he began to kiss and caress her thighs. "They're so pretty sweetheart. Why would you ever dislike them?" He whispered, teasing the skin with his teeth. He licked up the length of her left thigh, but stopped short of where she needed him. He began to suck and nibble the flesh there, drawing moan after moan from her throat. Soon enough, he was repeating his actions on her right thigh, and she was getting hornier by the minute.

Finally, his tongue reached where she wanted, and her eyes rolled back into her head at the feeling. Her fingers found themselves intertwined in his hair, pulling and tugging each time he did something more pleasurable than he'd done previously. Her walls had began to clench around nothing, and the pleasure she felt was too much to hold back. She was so close to her climax, moaning Fred's name, at the edge of bursting, when Fred stopped his actions and pulled away. Groaning, she sat up to face him, as he smiled through his slick covered lips.

"Sit on my face," he demanded with a grin.

"What? No." She said breathlessly.

"Please baby, it's not something that we haven't done before," he reasoned.

"But my thighs are really big and you..."

"No buts, come on!" He said, lying flat on his back, waiting for her to climb onto him.

Still not very sure of the idea, she positioned herself, but didn't put any weight on him, choosing to hover over his face instead. A blush crept up her neck and made its way to her face at being so spread out in front of him.

Fred smiled and licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, and her head hung back at the feeling, as he picked up right where he had left off. Seeing her pleasure, his hands caressed her ass, before he pulled her onto himself entirely. He moaned at the feeling of being between her thighs, and began eating her out with even more enthusiasm than before.

She was so lost in her pleasure that she forgot her insecurity and began grinding down his face once his tongue entered her, and her moans were reciprocated with his own. She was coming in mere minutes, and it was probably the one of the best orgasms she'd had.

As she came down from her high, she shifted back from his face, sitting on Fred's chest now. His eyes were drowsy and his face was covered in her slick, as he smiled up at her. She immediately felt something hard behind herself and instantly reached her hand out, unzipping his jeans and letting her hand slide under the waistband of his boxers to reach his dick. Fred groaned in pleasure when her hand brushed against his sensitive tip, and instinctively jerked his hips forward.

"Don't," he grunted, almost sounding pained. "I won't be able to hold it in."

"Then don't hold it in, Freddie." She smiled, leaning down to kiss him, moaning at her own taste all over his mouth. She quickly whispered a soft "I love you," only for him to hear.

"Want to fuck you baby," he said. "Please."

She let go of him at his request, and climbed off him. Her hands busied themselves with getting rid of his jeans and boxers, as he lay on the bed watching her. As soon as he was completely undressed, he sat up, and then proceeded to get off the bed, much to her confusion. He walked over to ger dresser, hurriedly tossing everything off it onto the chair next to it. He came back towards her then, offering his hand to her, and she took it, following him off the bed.

"Going to fuck your thighs today, baby." He declared, "Need you to know how much I love them. Is that okay?"

She nodded, letting him sit on the sturdy wooden table, with his back against the mirror, and stood right between his legs. One of his hands rested on her waist as he finally took his length in the other and guided it to her slit, rubbing it through her wetness and letting his head fall back against the mirror in pleasure. She had enough of his teasing now, so she quickly took matters into her own hands. Her fingers pulled away his own from his dick, and she wrapped her palm around him now. He let her take the lead, both his hands clutching onto her waist, and holding her in place. Spreading her hickey covered thighs a little, she guided his tip through the gap. He thrusted forward in relief, and he brushed perfectly against her clit, giving her just as much pleasure as him. His head now rested on her shoulder, and his moans went straight into her ears, turning her into a complete mess.

It was slow at first, since they had never tried this before, but once the pleasure built up, Fred's thrusts became more confident and sure, until he was close enough for them to become sloppy once more. She was just as close, her clit throbbing with each stroke against it.

"I'm so close baby," he whispered hoarsely. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside Freddie, please!" She replied, barely able to keep her eyes open. He immediately pulled her onto himself and she was straddling his lap now, her hand guiding his tip into her warmth. She sat down as soon as the tip was inside, completely sheathing him, and burying her face into his chest.

"So warm love. So good." He moaned, thrusting up into her mercilessly.

"You're so big Freddie. Could never get used to you," she said back in her state of complete haze. Her walls fluttered around him, and he connected their lips, his tongue intertwined hers as she came hard. Fred followed seconds later, his moans swallowed by her as their lips remained connected, and his warmth coated her insides.

She once again buried herself into his chest as they stilled, her arms in their rightful place around him, and his softening dick still inside her. He held her close to himself, warm breath fanning her back as his head rested on her shoulder.

"Baby?" He whispered after a few moments of silence, and his voice was laced with his usual mischief.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like your thighs yet? If not then I'd love to try again."

[dearharriet]

Lover's rock by TV girl and Fred please!! Congrats on 150!!

thank you for the request lovely! i only realized after writing that the twins are born in spring, but we can pretend they’re summer babies for my sake ;( (wc: 1.4K)

The twins’ shared apartment is wearing an unusual intimacy tonight, shadowy and warm, with every window open to let the summer breeze drift through. Your friends are in the kitchen, which is a lovely thing to walk in on.

You’re just grabbing another coke to smuggle back to Fred's room, but you linger for a moment by the fridge. It’s the week of the twins' birthday, which will call for riotous celebration later, but for now they both swear they only want a small gathering of all their best mates. Angelina, Lee, Alicia, Katie, Oliver, and you.

Pressing the cool can to your flushed cheeks, you watch them all laugh, a bit faint with how much you want to remember this moment. It’s a testament to your awful crush on Fred that you pull yourself away at all, slinking down the hall into his room again.

“There you are,” says the man himself, bent over his old record machine. “Thought the girls might’ve persuaded you to abandon me.”

“Almost,” you tell him truly. “It’s hard to get us all together like this anymore.”

“It’ll just be a second,” Fred assures you, sifting through stacks of warped vinyls. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

You take the moment of distraction to lay yourself out atop his cool bedspread, no doubt quilted by his mother.

“No rush.”

Your change of position takes Fred’s attention, and when he finds you, he can only blink. You stare back at him, feeling shy but not quite willing to show it.

“What?”

Fred shakes his head. “Nothing.”

You watch him resume his task, enjoying the way his shoulders fill out the casual tee he’s donned. All of you have known each other for so long, and yet you can’t quite pinpoint when Fred started looking so mature. It’s like it happened under your nose or overnight, a snap of a change just as you blinked your eyes.

“You’re staring.” Fred looks up to catch you, and you can only press your lips together.

“So?”

Neither you nor Fred seem to understand if this is a defense or an admittance, but the air in the room feels all the hotter for it. His eyes flash with a mischievous impulse you’ve seen a thousand times, and you expect some witty comeback. Instead, he just holds up a flimsy yellow square for you to see.

“Found it.”

Just like that, the moment diffuses, your aching chest deflating. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed.

“Finally,” you sigh. “Put it on, will you?”

He does, gently setting it into its cradle and starting the spin. By the time the song begins, he’s halfway onto the bed.

“Alright, if you don’t like it, you’re not allowed to tell me. It’s my birthday.”

“I like it already.”

Fred sprawls out on his back beside you, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. He shoots a smile your way, boyish and sly. “That’s my girl.”

You try not to read too far into that—Fred says it all the time, and that’s just Fred—but it’s hard with the heat and the soft music. When it comes to feigning indifference, you’re something of a professional, except right now you’re hardly maintaining a regular color.

“I got you something really good for your gift,” you choke, desperate to change the subject.

“Did you, now?” Fred is still looking at you strangely, giddy like he’s waiting for a prank to pan out. Your heart is tumbling in your chest.

“Mhm. I think you’re really gonna like it.”

“I’m sure,” he agrees, his tone dulcet. “I’d like anything you gave me.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoff breathlessly, cracking like an egg under his attention. Fred’s grin spreads wider, his eyes melting impossibly softer.

“What? I can’t say that?”

You shake your head, truly sick of his teasing.

“No. You’re being a tosser.” Fred’s disbelief rings out of him in a belly laugh. It’s stupid to let it hurt your feelings, but your reactions to Fred have never quite been rational.

“I’m complimenting you, pretty girl.”

The nickname sends a shock of heat through you, equal parts excitement and fury. “You’re making fun.”

“No,” Fred says, and though he’s still wearing a ghost of a smile, his voice is sharp and stern. You can’t bear to look at him, painfully aware of the fact that he’s peering right into the soft center you’ve been harboring for years.

The record plays like a drama now, some sort of cruel irony in its sweeping romanticism singing behind the end of a decade-long friendship.

“I can see you creating a tragedy in your head over there.”

Bracing yourself, you chance a look at Fred. He’s pushed onto one elbow, watching you carefully, knowingly.

“Am not,” you insist.

In response, he only chuckles lightly, like it’s fine that you are and it’s fine that you’re lying about it.

“I don’t play with feelings,” Fred says, “you know that. If I call you pretty, it’s ’cause you are.”

Thinking that can’t possibly be true, you argue, “You play with my feelings all the time.”

“Or you misunderstand me,” he implies, raising his brows, “all the time.”

You blink at him, unsure what to think of that. If Fred liked you, he’s not the type to let it go unsaid. You would know. Surely you would know. Unless, of course, you’ve been a complete fool.

“Really?”

Fred nods, exasperated fondness painted over his features. “Really.”

Covering your face with your hands, you ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Darling, trust me, I tried. You were too cussed to believe me.”

It’s all too much, you can’t believe your own ignorance.

“Fred,” you whine, face flushed for every reason but the heat. He takes your wrists, encouraging your hands down.

“Look, you know now,” he assures you, though he’s still much too amused for your taste, “so you don’t have to worry.”

Your tumultuous heart seems to settle, albeit aching like it’s been mauled by a bear.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

Fred squeezes your wrists as he smiles, and you can’t believe you hadn’t seen it before—the heat in his gaze, the rapt attention. Looking back through years of hazy memories, you realize you can’t pinpoint the beginning of that behavior from him, if there ever was one. Fred has always been Fred, horribly flirty and without boundaries, and you chose to assume he wasn’t serious.

“I’ll forgive you,” he says, “on one condition.”

The pitter-patter of your heart picks up again.

“Yes?”

Leaning close, Fred says, “you have to give me a birthday kiss.”

Your lips twitch with an unbidden smile. “You’re horrible.”

“I’m horrible?” Fred asks, stilling his descent on you. “You won’t do it then?”

“I’ll do it.” As you say so, your hands skirt up Fred’s arms and shoulders to weave into his hair, pulling him closer. “But not because I want to.”

“No,” he breathes, and your senses gather him and only him, “of course not.”

Your lips touch gently, just brushing and feeling against one another. You’re trying very hard not to smile, but it becomes a laborious task when Fred inches deeper, taking your bottom lip between his. After a moment, though, he pulls back.

“One sec,” he says, and slides off the bed.

You watch him move to the record player, which is spinning around the end of the vinyl. You hadn’t even realized it stopped.

“Freddie.”

Both your and Fred’s attention snaps to the door, locking on a very smug looking George. Having no other reference for how you might appear, you look to Fred, and it’s not promising. His lips are smudged pink from your lipstick, and his hair is a mess in the back. It would take an idiot not to know what you two were doing.

Still, George doesn’t object, he just inflates his words with enough self-satisfaction to kill.

“Cake and presents soon. Try to wrap up whatever you’re doing in here.”

Just like that, he’s gone.

Seemingly unfazed, Fred flips the vinyl in his hands and starts it again.

“Shouldn’t we go?” you ask.

Crawling back up the bed, Fred settles into your space again, much closer than before.

“Not yet. Let’s give the b-side a listen.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[linalooneyhatter]

Just a blow to the noggin'. F.W

Fred x Ravenclaw reader.

Warnings: None, just butterflies for the Weasleys

It was quite the regular morning in Hogwarts. Yn would have just finished preparing herself for Transfiguration class when she headed for lunch while she packed her books in her cross-body bag not noticing the fellow redheaded twin in her way. You see, Fred and George were playing around with a small enchanted firework.

"Watch out for the Ravenclaw!"

“What?”

“Ow!”

“Bloody hell!”

And like that, books scrambled everywhere, Fred tore a gash in his hand and scratched his arm causing it to bleed a bit.

He grunted and turned to Yn as if he forgot he had just bumped into someone. “Blimey, are you alright? I’m terribly sorry” He says standing up and offering his hand to help her up, only now noticing it bleeding from the gash. 

“Oh, don't it’s me, I should have absolutely looked where I was going,I…-said Yn oblivious to it as she picked her things up. 

“Oh, you’re hurt!”- she exclaims, noticing it now. George helped her up and turned to his brother.

YN and the twins share some classes. She was quite fond of the twins and the Weasley’s in general. 

Yn took him aside, George following, and asked him to sit down on one of the bench rocks. Next, the twins watch her as she pulls from her bag some gauze, bandages and a small bottle of perfume. She takes a hold of Fred’s injured hand and sprays some on the gash and the scratches making him hiss and flinch trying to set free from YN’s grip, however failing due to her strong grip. She then cleans the wound brushing with some gauze. Fred couldn’t help but fancy the way Yn looked so focused on the work, ironically noticing how he had never really noticed her appearance: her big eyes shining beneath her messy curls and her bushy eyebrows, the way they lifted as she grew more focused at her now bandaging the hand.

“There”- she softly says letting go- “all done!”

Fred looks at his patched up lower arm and hand, truly admiring it.

“Why thank you, Yn!” She smiles picking up the bandages and all.

“It’s nothing, don’t mind it”

“No, really, YN. You’re an angel. This is lovely.”

“Yeah, guess you won't mind getting hurt from now on with someone like Yn to be there to patch you up after from now on, eh?”-his brother said.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy appeared with his two mates followed by Crabbe, Goyle and some other Slytherins. 

“Well, you better shape up then because I’m afraid demented Yn here won't be able to patch you up with only her couple of bandages once we’re finished messing you both up after the Quidditch’s match later.”-said Draco followed by his comrades mocking the three behind him.

“We’ll see, Malfoy. Because unlike you, we are already careful not to get our heads too far up our own asses to see the truth.”-answered Fred making his brother laugh.

Next, they turned around and headed off but not before telling YN: 

“See you later, Sweets. Oh, and don't take Malfoy’s words to heart. He’s just jealous for not being in the winning team.”- said Fred.

“Yeah, anyone would be, knowing there’s two of the most handsome men on the team”- followed George fixing his coat proudly.

“Oh, It’s alright, I’m sure you’ll win this one too.”

“Thank you, love!”-said both of them. 

“Can you imagine two won matches in a row.”-whispered George to Fred.

“We’ll rambo it, they’ll see…”

Far now from YN, the twins were not letting Draco’s words slide.

“You know we’ll have to get him for Yn, right, Georgie?”

“I've already been concocting something…” And with that, they left the courtyard.

A/N: Do you guys think this deserves a Pt. 2? Tell me what you think, no filter. Luv u ❤❤

[reginaaxxwrites]

It Took Time (Fred Weasley)

This was been in my draft for months already. I decided to finally post it. This story contains 6.2k words. Enjoy!

*****

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader (With a little bit George x Fem!Reader)

Warning: IT CONTAINS SMUT (Guys, I know this is the first time I released smut fanfiction. I just hope this one is good enough. I did not intend this story to have smut, but there you go. Enjoy your meal.)

*****

How do I start this?

I am madly in love with George Weasley. Yes, the famous George Weasley who always gets into trouble along with his brother, Fred Weasley. It was hard liking someone inside your circle of friends.

I tried not to be obvious about my feelings for him. I try to act casual because it's my way of controlling myself to burst my emotions when I'm with him. But sometimes I just can't help myself from showing him.

George would always sit beside me and talk about everything. Like his favorite spell or his memorable pranks. With every word he says, I can't help but get lost in it. I stare at him with dreamy eyes. And even if I get lost in his words, I still understand everything he said and it always piques my interest. I'll never get tired of his stories.

Unlike his brother, George seems to be more reserved. I don't know how to explain it but without Fred, he wouldn't be as chaotic as he is today. I guess they just complete each other.

"I think he fancies you," Angelina whispered beside me. I nudged her and rolled my eyes.

"I think not. Now, shut up and let me do homework." I continued to write on my parchment paper.

"Boringgg." She yawned.

I would be lying if I say I didn't think that he fancies me. I mean, it's possible. Or maybe I just like to assume things and feed my delusions. Because there are times he would flirt, but I don't know if that was intentional or if it's not.

"Damn you, Angelina." I glared at her. She looks confused as to why I cursed at her.

"I am mad. I really fancy him. And I can't do something about it." I buried myself on the table.

"Then confess to him. You'll never know until you initiate the move to tell him." She's right but what if I have been wrong all this time? That he simply just sees me as his friend.

George Weasley, why are you so hard to read?

"So... Any ideas how will you confess to him?" Angelina leaned on the table with a teasing smirk placed upon her lips.

"Shut it." I tried to ignore her but she was too clever to know it'll just keep bothering me and in the end, I would talk about it.

"Oh, I don't know, Angelina!" I slammed my quill and looked at her. I noticed that the Common Room went silent, so I looked around. They were all looking at me.

Okay, maybe I slam my quill too loud and too hard. I gave them my apology look and went on about what they were doing a while ago.

"Whoa, calm down, girl. You know I think it's unnecessary to confess--"

"But you just said a while ago?!" I am upset. Because it's been frustrating since then when I started to like him.

"I know. But listen to me. Everyone in this room knows you fancy him. Even his twin teases you about it. I'm sure George knows it too somehow. Maybe he just acts dumb because like you, he doesn't want to assume things."

"So, I should confess to him?"

"It's not like it's your obligation to do so. But if it's what you want. If it's the only way to stop you from overthinking then go. Take the risk or lose the chance, they say." Angelina smiled at me. She just knew the right thing to say.

-

I'm scared.

As the day goes by, I intend to show that I like him. But I'm not sure if he can tell. I'm not good with words. Never was. I'm starting to stutter, I can't even look at his eyes when I talk to him. I'm nervous whenever he's around.

Poor George doesn't know what I was feeling. How I was acting weird when he sits beside me during class and in the Great Hall.

If I don't tell him sooner, I'll forever look dumb in front of him.

"I can't tell him," I whispered to myself. Maybe it's because it's too soon. George and I recently got close this year because he joined me in playing exploding snaps during the first day of our sixth year. Ever since then, we just talk and talk.

"Hey, Longbottom." I knew I recognized that voice. I looked to see George making his way beside me.

"George." I greeted with a faint smile.

"I was looking for you."

"You are?" Why was he looking for me? Millions of possibilities went through my mind about why he was looking at me.

"Yes, I am. Lee was telling me about our paper and told me to get you so we could start at the Library." Oh. Of course, our research paper.

"You? When did George Weasley suddenly talk about boring stuff? What piques your interest?" I teased him and he just laughs.

Damn, his laughter. It's making my stomach churn or whatever it is.

"Well for one, Lee wanted to finish this paper so he could still be commenting in the upcoming Quidditch. Because Godric knows how bad his marks are."

"Aren't yours bad as his?" I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Rude but yes. That's one, no, two. And lastly, we know the kind of nerd you are and how you like to finish the given tasks as soon as possible. Aren't we making this easy for you, Longbottom?" He was grinning and looking at me. I swear I could feel my whole face turning into a beet red.

"Fine, Weasley." I took my stuff as he leads the way through the Library where Lee is waiting for us.

Once we entered the Library, Lee waves us over to the table where he was and books are already opened. I sat beside him while George took the seat in front of us.

"You do realize we still have a month to do this paper, right? We don't have to start right away." I told him while I bring out my notebooks and quills and ink.

"Who are you and what have you done to Y/N?" Lee acted surprised as I rolled my eyes at him.

"I mean, the sooner we finish this, the better. Don't you agree, George?" He looked at his best friend who nodded and grinned like an idiot.

"I feel like you two are messing with me." I glared at them.

"Whaaat?"

"Never," George answered.

I didn't push the subject any longer and started to skim the books Lee placed on our table. I guess, it is better to have this paper finished.

Later that night, I told Angelina how my day and her day went like we always do before going to bed.

"Have you decided?" Angelina asked while she was helping me brush my hair. We were both looking at each other in our reflection in the mirror.

"It's only a month since I started liking him. Don't you think it's too soon?" I was already playing with my necklace's pendant which was given by my mother. I did this a lot of times whenever I'm nervous.

My best friend held both of my shoulders and gave me an assuring smile.

"Then take your time. I'm sure you'll get the courage to tell him. I mean, we're Gryffindors, are we?"

"We are."

-

It was getting worst.

Exams are coming soon and I cannot focus. His image comes into my mind and I can't focus. I really need to tell him. I should, it would help me clear my thoughts. It was now or never.

I grabbed my sweater before leaving the Common Room and looked for the red-haired male almost everywhere in the castle. Then, I remembered they were supposed to be at the Courtyard today.

When I finally saw the guy I was looking for, I didn't waste any moment and grabbed his wrist. I heard some of the students whistling and teasing us, including his brother while I look for a quiet place where we can talk.

"Is something the matter, Y/N?" He looked into my eyes, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I... I--there's something I need to tell you..." I could faint at any moment because my hands were cold and shaking.

Deep breaths, Y/N. You can do this.

"Y/N--"

"I like you. It's bad, I know. We became friends not long ago. It was getting worst and I can't just sit still and do nothing about it. You don't have to like me back. And I understand if...if you don't want to be friends with me anymore..." I could feel my cheeks getting wet from my tears.

Ha, why am I crying?

I'm frustrated and confused because, for the first time, he's the first guy who is gentle toward me. I couldn't look at him even though I want to see his reaction. I'm scared.

"I don't know what to say... It's not like every day I received confessions like this. But..." He took a step closer to me. "Could you give me time? To think about, I mean."

I didn't answer him instead, I nodded. I tried to wipe my tears but a hand stopped me and gave me a handkerchief.

"Here. Don't cry."

I went back to the Common Room and saw Angelina waiting for me. She saw how red my eyes are and quickly went over to me. She embraced me, comforting me in her arms.

"How did it go?" She asked as we enter our dorm room. We sat in my bed and she tried to fix my face.

"I do not know. He told me to give him time. But Godric knows he won't talk about that conversation again unless I initiate it."

I tried to avoid George every time we cross the hallways, Angelina would sit beside me during classes and never left my side. 

I was fixing my things when suddenly the door slammed hard. I turned to look around to see Angelina panting hard as if she had run all the way into our dorm room.

"Angelina! Are you all right? You look like you ran--"

"That's because I ran all the way in here." She took off her scarf and throw it on her bed.

"You need to talk to him." She firmly said to me. I looked away.

"Y/N, it's more painful to leave a question not answered than get rejected. I cannot stand my two best friends avoiding each other when they only got to be friends before the term started." She took my hand and helped me to stand up.

"But..."

"I don't want to get your hopes up. But I heard him and Lee talked about you. He told Lee that you had a chance but--"

"Nothing comes good after 'but'." I joked.

"I know. But he's scared, Y/N. He doesn't want to hurt you. If you talk to him now... You might help him to chase away anything that scares him from being with you. You need to take another risk."

Another risk...

"He's in the Common Room. Talk to him, Y/N. If it doesn't work out then I'm here for you. Always." She kissed my cheeks and pulled me out of the room. We took downstairs and saw the three of them.

He was laughing together with his best friends, Lee and Fred. Angelina went over to them and the two boys stood up. They both looked at me and smiled. The boys and Angelina left the room, leaving me and George.

"Y/N."

"George."

"Am I an idiot for liking you this much? Because if I am, then I must be the most idiotic of all idiots." I fake laughed but he didn't. His face showed an expression I'd never seen before. It was dark. It feels like he took my breath away.

He took steps closer to me.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I am ready to be with someone. I don't want to hurt you because you are one of the most important people in my life." I saw how he wanted to touch me or take my hand. But something was stopping him. It's like he can't take the risk of touching me like I'm fragile. He thinks that once he touches me, I'm going to break. He is scared of hurting me more.

"I'm sorry for making you wait for nothing."

"No, I get it. And I'm sorry... For avoiding you, for acting like I didn't know you, or pretending like we weren't friends at all after I did something that made you feel uncomfortable." I gave him a faint smile.

"I hope we can still be friends."

"We are friends, George. We always will be." our eyes never left looking at each other until the clock struck midnight.

"Good night, Weasley. I'll see you tomorrow." I started to walk away. I didn't bother to wait for his response.

"Good night." I heard him say before I reach the top of the stairs to look at him one last time before entering into my dorm room.

-

The rejection helped me to calm my thoughts. To stop me from assuming but the sudden actions from him never stopped. How he makes sure I don't get sweaty and hot from the sun's heat. Or when it rains he casts a spell to make an umbrella and we would share it.

I don't get him.

How can I move on when his words are contradicting his actions? Why does he keep making me a fool?

"What're you three doing?" I saw the twins and Lee brewing something in their cauldron. Potions ingredients were everywhere. If McGonagall saw this mess they would've been sent to detention straight away.

Bananas.

Newt Spleens

An orange snake.

A green leaf.

"Fred and George Weasley! You're making an aging potion! And you, Lee Jordan, tell me why am I not surprised that you're also a part of this?" I know what they're trying to do. They're going to try and trick the Goblet of Fire.

"Of course, you could tell by looking at the ingredients. Brilliant, isn't she?" Fred grinned like an idiot.

"No need to state what's always been obvious, Forge." He commented on his brother. They continued to mix the potion as if I wasn't there to scold them which I am debating on it.

"Have you decided?" Lee asked.

"What?"

"It's painful to look at you when you're trying to decide whether to tell McGonagall or you'd rather help us finish this potion." He explained.

"Actually... I'm not. Because this is stupid. Dumbledore cast a spell around the Goblet. You cannot trick the Goblet of Fire or Dumbledore." I lectured them but they just snickered.

These boys.

"No wonder Hermione worships the ground you walk, Longbottom." Fred teased me as I rolled my eyes at him.

"You three are going to regret it," I warned them but they just seem not to care.

"And thank you for the warning." The twins said in chorus.

"But"

"you know us--"

"breaking the rules." They gave me their most mischievous smiles.

I looked at Lee and he just shrugged. "What they said."

The next day, we were in the Great Hall during our free time. Hermione sat beside me, reading her book while I helped my brother with his assignment.

"You're joking," I told my brother. He looked at me, confused.

"You don't need my help in Herbology, Neville. You have high marks than I was when I'm in your year. Have confidence in yourself."

"Really?" I pinched his cheeks as I nod at his question.

Suddenly we heard laughter and looked to see the three pig brains. They went over in our direction while holding a small bottle containing the potion.

"Done it." Fred showed us the potion. I rolled my eyes at him while Hermione was trying to stop them.

"Honestly, don't even try," I whispered to her but she continued.

"It's not going to work." Hermione sang the words as the twins went closer to her. Fred looking at her, closely as well as George.

"Oh, really, Granger?" Fred smirked at her. Hermione tried to explain what I already told them last night.

And of course, they didn't listen to her and drank the potion. She looked at me, annoyed at the three boys. I mouthed her 'I told you, so.' before she went back to her book. Harry and Ron seem to be fascinated by the trick.

After they drank the potion, they stepped inside the circle and the students clapped and cheered them on.

Oh, now I'm curious what's going to happen. I watched them put their paper in the Goblet. We saw nothing happen to them so the students clapped in amazement. Of course, I believed that something is still going to happen.

And something did happen.

"Argh!" Lee, Fred, and George flew out of the circle as they aged into an old man. Peals of laughter filled the entire Great Hall. I couldn't help but also laugh. They tried to punch each other and put the blame on one another.

Later that day, Angelina and I decided to visit them in the Hospital Wing. They were finally going back to their age. Well, almost.

"I'd say a beard looks good on you, Weasley." I joked as I sat beside his bed. I touched his beard as he chuckled.

"I still look like a thirty-year-old man." He smiled.

"Better than looking like an eighty-year-old man."

"Ouch. I expect to still look handsome at that age." He placed his right arm on his left chest as if he was struck in the heart.

"Are you? I didn't take a good look. I was busy laughing earlier." I teased him and Godric, I hated when he gave me that smirk on his lips. I want to rip it.

Calm down, Y/N.

"At least tell me I made a perfect potion. Don't want to disappoint a potion master."

"You... You were never bad at potions, George Weasley." I gave him a gentle smile and he just kept quiet looking at me.

-

"I was already rejected and yet I still hope for us to happen." I buried my face in my pillow. My best friend sat beside me.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try and confess to him one more time?" I know she was teasing but damn her because she is giving me an idea to do so.

"Oh, no. I am only joking, Y/N! Don't even think about it." She said, firmly. "I swear I'm this close to swinging a bat on a bludger and then aiming it in his face."

"Please don't."

"I won't. Only because you said 'please'."

"What am I supposed to do? I expect these feelings would go away after getting rejected. Now, I'm only falling deeper." I'm starting to cry again out of frustration.

"Nothing. Just nothing." She looks at me as I sat down properly at my bed.

"You are not the problem here, Y/N. He's the one to blame. Putting you in this position where you should be moving on. Because Godric's sword, if only you know how boys from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton look at you every time you walked past them."

"What?"

"See. You don't need to set your eyes only on one boy who rejected you but proceeds to act as if he fancies you. Find other guys. Move on."

"But what if he does like me? He's just not ready like he said..."

"That's bullshit. It doesn't matter whether you're ready or not. If you like someone, you'd still pursue them, take the risk even if it's scary. Just like you did. Clearly, he's giving you mixed signals." Angelina sounded angry. She was annoyed like she wanted to punch George if she ever saw him.

"Would you get mad if I told you that I just sent him a letter? Confessing to him the second time?" I pout as she turns her face into a sour one.

"Y/N LONGBOTTOM!" She was angry. Really angry. "What exactly did you write in that letter?!"

"That I still fancy him. That if I didn't receive an owl from him later this evening, it means... All he did meant nothing to him."

"Please swear to me that this will be the last thing you will do." She just sighed.

"I promise."

"Then, are you sure you're ready for whatever response you receive from him?" Angelina looked worried for me. That's why I am lucky to have her by my side.

"Yes."

As expected from him, I didn't receive any owls from him. I slept through the night so I don't have to cry until it reaches morning.

My best friend and I went to breakfast, avoiding that one Weasley. While I was eating and chatting with Angelina, someone poked my sides. I look to see Fred, grinning as he sat beside me.

"Morning." He greeted us.

"Is there something you need, Fred?" Angelina raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"Nothing. I just wanted to eat breakfast." He shrugged his shoulders while placing a toast on his plate and into mine.

"I can get my own toast." I sounded mean but I didn't mean to.

"Looks like someone had a bad sleep."

"She did, Fred." Angelina rolled her eyes at him.

"I see... Well, let me just enjoy my breakfast, at least." Fred grinned like an idiot.

-

The twins were a bit mean when they started a bet between Harry and Cedric. Poor Harry seemed to look like he wants to drop out of the Tournament. Sadly, he can't because it's part of the rules.

And then there's Fred, who would always pester me around. He would poke my sides, even if he goddamn well knows that's my tickle spot. He would open up to me easily, telling me how he had a crush on Angelina during our 4th year. But stopped pursuing her because my best friend clearly doesn't look interested in dating him.

We became closer. We became more than acquaintances. We were close friends.

We became inseparable.

Angelina noticed it. How happy I am. I was blooming, she said. She never saw me this happy. And she was wondering why but didn't bother to have it answered because all she cares about was my happiness.

"You're an idiot, Fred." I scold him. "And stop that betting game you and your twin started. It only brings war upon Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors."

"You know, I've noticed you kept saying 'your twin'." He changed the subject. I looked away and watch the birds fly into the gloomy sky.

We are both in Black Lake to get some fresh air.

"I do not know what you mean."

"Damn, I know he rejected you. But I get it. You see, the problem with George is that he's afraid of women. He once liked Angelina but he did nothing about it." I was surprised that George liked Angelina. This is the first time I am hearing this.

"You both liked the same girl?"

"It always happens. A bit frustrating, honestly. But at times like that, I'm willing to give up the woman I like for him. We're twins but he's the younger one so..."

"You let go."

"Always. For my twin's happiness."

"What about yours?" I felt pity for him. I know I shouldn't because he wouldn't like that.

"George's happiness is my happiness." He smiled at me. But I know it was a sad one. I leaned my head against his shoulder.

"A true Gryffindor." I felt him chuckle.

"So are you."

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Oh, no.

No... I can't possibly be falling for him now. This would be an outrage. I can't.

It's only been three months ever since I stopped liking George. Three months since then I have not talked to him.

"You and Fred seemed gotten closer. Both of you suited more perfectly." Angelina, once again, I know she's joking but she isn't helping.

Does she need to know? Must she know? I don't know. She might make fun of me.

Godric, it feels like a sin to fall for Fred.

"Oh, dear... I know that look. You like Fred." She placed her hand on her lips and went beside me. "Tell me everything." She doesn't look disgusted. Instead, she looks like she's excited.

I told her everything I know and she can't remove her smile ever since I started talking.

"Godric! I knew it!" She was giggling. "So what do you intend to do?"

"Nothing. I can't let him know. He can't know. I won't confess. I won't tell him anything." I mumbled.

"Right. Let him be the one to develop his feelings for you. You don't have to do anything this time." She smiled and pulled me into a hug.

"You should never feel guilty for liking someone. I pray that this time, Fred will do exactly the opposite George did to you. You two suit together, really."

"Thank you, Angelina. For everything."

"What friends are for?"

-

Professor McGonagall announced that there will be a ball. The ball is only exclusive for the fourth year and above.

Our head of house started to prepare us for the ball. She called all Gryffindors from the fourth year and above to practice our dance steps. So we don't look stupid on the day of the event.

Ron and his friends joked about something while looking at Eloise Mignon. I felt my insides get irritated and then McGonagall called him over for a dance. Fred and George made fun of their brother as well as Harry.

"Now, boys. Find your partners." I saw my brother the first one to rise on his chair. I smiled at him and asked Hermione to dance with him. She gladly accepted my brother's offer.

The other boys finally went to our side. Fred reached my wrist and pulled me on the dance floor.

"Really? No asking but pull the woman you see first? How gentleman of you, Weasley." I joked as he laughs at my words.

"Pleasures all mine, Longbottom." He winked at me as he spun me and then dipped me down while his hand was on my waist and the other one on my hand.

I saw George looking in our direction while he was dancing with Angelina. I immediately broke our eye contact and focus on Fred.

"Smooth." I smiled. "Who do you plan to ask on the ball?" 

"Maybe Angelina? Or some girls from other houses." He answered. I got to admit that it broke my heart a little. I thought that it might occur to him that he can ask me.

"And you?" 

"No one." 

"I thought you were waiting for George to ask you." He teased but ignored it.

"Well, you thought wrong." I didn't mean to sound annoyed but I am. I don't why my mood changes suddenly. "Sorry..." 

"Hey, don't be. I heard girls tend to get stressed on upcoming occasions like this." I unbelievably looked at him. "What? I mean, has anyone asked you?"

"That's a bit rude to ask a girl." I raised my eyebrow at him.

"So, no one--"

"Fred!" I playfully hit his arm. "Of course, someone had asked me. But I turned them down."

"May I ask why?"

"I'm waiting for someone to ask me." I could feel my cheeks burn from embarrassment.

"George, then." He continued to tease me to his twin.

"Please stop." He just laughs at me and continued to dance me away.

The day of the Yule Ball came.

The person I wanted to ask me, is going with someone from Beauxbaton. While my best friend is going with George. 

"Stop fussing over your dress, Y/N." Angelina scolded me while she tries to adjust the back part of my dress.

"Must I attend?" I groaned.

"Yes! Because this might be the last time you'll experience this as a teenager. Now do me a favor and have fun." She finished fixing my dress and place an accessory on my hair.

"You look beautiful."

"I look like a clown." 

"I know you feel bitter because of him but please don't let it ruin your night. Besides going without a date has its perks." She winked at me while I got up and took my white shawl to keep me warm for the night.

"Like what?"

"You can flirt with any guy!"

"Funny. Because you know exactly enough that I can't flirt." I rolled my eyes. "So...you and George?"

"It was a last minute. He just happened to ask me in front of Lee and Fred just to prove to Ron and Harry that they can ask any girl to the dance. We're going as friends." I can't help but smile when Angelina told me what happened.

"Idiots." Both of us giggled the way out of the dorm and went downstairs. 

We saw George patiently waiting for his date, together with Lee. George's eyes were on me instead of Angelina's. I immediately looked away and pretended that didn't happen.

"You look stunning." He complimented her. I went beside Lee who smiled at me.

"Who's the lucky girl?" I asked Lee. The two started walking and we followed.

"Oh, I'm going alone." 

"Why?"

"I'm having trouble who to ask. So, I decided not to come with a date." I immediately understood what he meant.

"How about you? I heard you received a lot of requests and yet you rejected every one of them." Lee gave me his playful smirk as I rolled my eyes at him.

"Piss off, Jordan. Maybe I decided to come alone just like you did." 

"An answer that I'll never believe it's true." I slapped his arm, and we laughed it off as we reached the Great Hall.

Students are already interacting with each other. Giving compliments on how they looked good and the dress robes they were wearing. Some were already dancing while others are eating appetizers and drinking butterbeer.

While Lee keeps talking about asking the girl from Beauxbaton to dance and telling me exactly how he will approach the girl. A tall red-haired caught my gaze. Even though everyone can't tell who is who. I know and I can tell.

He looks handsome in his robes. That long hair he tried not to cut for a new look. But he looks good whether his hair is long or short. I pray not that he will not look in my way. Because I know what he'll do if he does. And I am not yet ready.

"Why don't you go and ask her already? I'm thirsty so I'll go fetch some drinks, okay?" I push my friend towards the girl. He didn't utter another word so I made my way to the tables.

I wasn't feeling to drink anything but water. After I got myself some water, I went further away from the crowd and the dance floor. I hid from my friends because I didn't want them to adjust to me. I want them to have fun without feeling obligated to make me feel better.

A famous band, Weird Sisters, started to take the floor. All of the students laugh and dance the night away. I saw two familiar Gryffindors, who also seems not to enjoy the event.

"And here I thought you went for the evening." I look up to see him lending his hand to me.

"And I thought no one will ever notice that I'm gone." 

"It's already impossible to not notice you, love." He was still waiting for me to take my hand. I was hesitating, scared even. 

"Were... Were you looking for me?" I asked.

"From the moment the ball started. But it seems you were hiding from the crowd." He answered. I took his hand and then led me to the dance floor. 

"I might start to think you fancy me." I joked. He pulled me closer, placing his hands around my waist. His face was close to mine. I could smell his cologne, his breath. I could feel him, his warmth. My heart was racing. 

"What if I am?" He answered in his low voice. His forehead rested on mine, never breaking his gaze on me.

"You're playing pranks on me." 

"Maybe I am." 

"Then stop."

"I can't." 

His eyes kept looking into mine and my lips. He was moving closer as if he was about to kiss me. Maybe he was. When the music stopped playing so did he.  

"I'm sorry." He gently pulled away from me.

"What for?"

"This." I felt sharp in my gut. "Shit. That's not what I meant."

"Clearly, it is. Good night, Fred." I turned my back on him and ran outside the Great Hall. I didn't expect him to follow me through the Courtyard.

"Y/N, please. Listen to me."

"I get it. I know you feel sorry for me. I know that the girl you asked should be the one you held earlier like that. So, why did you even bother to look for me, Fred? I am just your friend, aren't I?" My face was burning in anger but it was also cold because it was snowing. I was stupid for forgetting my coat in the Great Hall because I tried to run away from him.

"You are my friend. And you like my brother. So, you see? I'll be damned if he knew I was about to kiss you." 

"Coward."

"What?"

"George made it clear he didn't like me. But I know it's also wrong to like you after George." Tears started to fall on my cheeks. "Merlin's beard, you are his brother, his twin. What will they think of me once they know I like you when not long ago I was trying to chase your brother?"

"We can't argue again because of a girl. I like you. Hell, I dreamt about holding you close to me, kissing you. Some of it came true, it was enchanting while it lasts." He tried to laugh it off. There was pain in his voice, his eyes were longing for me.

"I think I'm in love with you. You saw and accepted me. Understood me and my messy life. You have been patient with me. But I can't be with you when I know he's starting to fall for you." 

"That's not true."

"It is. You don't have to believe in me. But you will when he tells you. I'm encouraging him to. So, please. Let all your feelings for him fall back in."

"No. You don't get to decide for me. And you don't get to set free all the things so that your brother could get it. You may care for his happiness, but I care for yours." I stomp all my way to him. It was hard to walk wearing my gown and the heavy snow on the ground.

"George had his chance with me. He took that for granted. You don't have to fix things for him. I understand you love your brother, unconditionally. Because I also have a brother that I'm willing to bet my life on. But I know he can take care of himself. He can make his own choices. I guide him but that's just it. His actions, his consequences to face." 

"Y/N..."

"You're a good brother, Fred." I smiled at him.

"She's right, Gred." Fred and I turned to see George walking toward us.

"It turns out this potion worked." He showed us an empty bottle of invisibility potion. 

"I'm sorry for making you feel like you don't deserve anything at all you have to give everything so that I could have it. You don't have to sacrifice everything." He placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

George then looked at me. He removed his coat and placed it on my shoulder.

"I guess I liked you a little too late." He placed his hand on the top of my head and when closer to my ear.

"Thank you." He messed up my hair and left the two of us.

Fred took my hand as he removed his brother's blazer. We followed him when Fred threw the coat on him.

"She doesn't need it." He said and he led me somewhere more quiet. I heard George laugh as we disappear in his sight.

We entered an empty classroom. He closed the door behind him and muttered spells on it. I was starting to get nervous. 

"Fred?" 

He turned to look at me. It was like seeing a whole different version of him.

"Sorry. Are you still cold?" He went close to me and held both sides of my arms. Caressing them to make me feel warm.

"A little." My eyes found his. 

We were about to kiss and this one would be it.

His lips found mine. He was gentle but started to get rough when I kissed him back, trying to follow him as if he was leading me. He lifted my weight which I was surprised by because I have a plump body. I don't have a toned and thin body like any other girl. And yet he still managed to lift me up as he placed me on a table. His rough, huge hands roam and grabbed my thighs. A moan escaped from my mouth.

"Don't hold it back in." He whispered between our kisses.

"Someone could hear us." 

"I cast a spell, love. No one can hear you. So be loud as you can be." He bit my lip and then his kisses went down on my neck. I could feel he was trying to hold back leaving me marks.

His body rested between my thighs. I could feel him getting hard every time he pushed his body while he kissed me. He was trying so hard not to undress me so he stayed his hands on my bare thighs.

"Tell me to stop. Tell me to go on. Whatever you want. I'll do it. Tell me." He stopped kissing me. His lips were plump and had lipstick stains. My hand went over to his buttoned shirt and unbuttoned the first one.

"Do not stop." With that, his hand on my thigh went higher to grab my ass. I grabbed his wrist while my other hand tried to mess up his hair.

"God, you're breathtaking." While kissing my neck, he slowly unzipped the back of my dress. I felt the warmth of his hand on my bare back. I wasn't wearing any bra so it was easy for him to access my breasts.

He grabbed my breast while his tongue played with my nipple. I arched back in pleasure, making it easy for him to do what he was doing.

"Fred..."

"Be patient, darling." He pulled away from me and completely removed my dress, leaving me only with my undergarment. He also removed his top as I was still sitting on the table. I was awed to see him topless. Quidditch training did his body justice.

He went over to me once more to kiss me. 

"Open your legs." His voice filled with such dominance that I didn't hesitate to do what I was told. He continued to kiss me, massaging my breasts. Those kisses slowly went down my neck, chest, stomach...and down to my...

"Fred!" 

"Do you want to stop?" He asked. I was thankful for making sure I still want to continue.

"It's just..."

"What is it, love? Tell me." 

"Must you kiss me down there?" I looked away because I just asked a dumb question. I heard him chuckle and placed his hand on my chin to make me look at him.

"Do you trust me?"

I nodded at him and he smiled, kissing my forehead for assurance.

"I'm preparing you so you won't have to feel pain."

He slowly removed my undergarment and kissed my pelvis as he went down to my womanhood. As soon as I felt his lips and tongue on my folds, I arched back. The empty classroom was filled with my moans and his kisses. I was starting to feel like I'm going to explode so I grabbed his hair. He stopped.

"Not yet." He licked his lips and unbuckled his trousers. I saw how huge he was. I was starting to get scared, wondering if it'll fit inside me.

"Do you still want to continue?" He asked one more time.

"Will it hurt?" 

"Maybe. You have to tell me. May I have your permission?"

"Yes."

He slowly entered his length inside me. I winced in pain but knew Fred that was trying to be gentle as much as possible. When the whole of him was already inside me, he kissed my cheeks and tried to whisper sweet nothings. He was slowly thrusting, making sure I was feeling all nothing but pleasure before fasting his pace.

He continued to kiss me as his pace started to go fast. My moans were getting louder as well as his groans. He keeps kissing my neck and shoulders, hugging me ever so tightly. We were both close to our climax. And when he did, he pulled it out.

He kissed my forehead and went over to pick up my clothes. He helped me to clean up before we put our clothes back on.

"Can you walk?" He asked when he saw me struggling to stand straight.

"It's a little sore down there," I tell him. He looked like he was sorry for what he did. I smiled and tiptoed to kiss his cheeks.

"I'll be gentle next time. I promise." He said and then placed his coat on my shoulder. "Warm enough?" He smirked at me.

I knew it was a lie when he told me he'd be gentle. Because he never was. Can't blame a man with this amount of energy.

*****

[writerdreamerwhatever]

Owl ~ George Weasley

This was requested by @lillisummers I hope you'll like it <3

Dear George,

Hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to write to you earlier, but time seemed to slip away with all the holiday preparations here in my hometown. I can’t believe it’s already Christmas! How’s the break so far? I really miss you, you know… Hopefully you can come visit me before we go back to Hogwarts! Maybe I’ll show you the town where I grew up! Anyway, I hope you and Fred aren’t giving Molly too much of a hard time. Tell her I said hi! I’ll see you soon.

All the love,

Y/N

Sliding the letter into an envelope, Y/N sealed it, and made her way over to the window, where her owl, Flakes, was perched on the windowsill.

“Hey, Flakes. Can you take that letter to the Burrow and give it to George, please?” Petting her feathers, she gave her a little treat before placing the envelope in her little beak.

Needless to say, Y/N was very fond of her owl Flakes. Having her since her first year at Hogwarts, the girl and her owl had a connection nobody could understand, they were inseparable, the owl brought benefit in taking letters, and being some kind of support system to Y/N, who considered the pet as a best friend.

When the owl took off in the sky, Y/N sat on the windowsill where Flakes was previously, admiring the way the feathers were batting in the chilly air. After having traveled for quite some time, the owl disappeared from Y/N’s view.

Flying over some forest and small lakes, Flakes tried her best to arrive to the Burrow as soon as she could, determined to bring her owner’s letter to George Weasley, and also having missed him.

Lost in thoughts of how George will reward her with some treats and a bit of petting her white feathers, Flakes didn’t notice she was about to pass between sharp and pointy tree branches, until the owl felt a burning sting on one of her wings at the contact of the twigs.

Luckily, she wasn’t that far from the Burrow, and was able to, sloppily, fly her way to George’s window.

The red head was sitting on his bed, working on one of his and Fred’s product for their business, when he heard small taps coming from the window.

Making his way over, he noticed Y/N’s owl, and a huge smile appeared on his face. George opened the window and was met with beautiful Flakes, but his smile quickly turned into a frown when he noticed the slight injury on the owl’s wing.

“Blimey, Flakes, what happened to you?” George asked, concerned for his girlfriend’s owl.

He knew how much love Y/N held to her owl, he couldn’t send her back injured and hurt.

Flakes could only hoot in pain, and George cupped her in his hands and brought her over to his bed.

“You must be cold.” He chuckled and wrapped the owl in a small blanket. He found his wand on his desk and held it firmly in his hand, pointing it at the wounded wing, “Episkey.” He noticed how the wing slowly went back to its previous healthy state.

George held a satisfied smile on his face, glad that the owl was healed. He opened one of his drawers and took out the treats he usually gave the owl when she visited him, making sure to pour extra sweets in front of Flakes, who didn’t hesitate in munching on the treats.

[unofficial-writing]

Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist! Below the cut you’ll find everything I currently have available. This list is always growing!

✵ Star Wars:

Din Djarin:

Into your arms - 1k

As long as I’m here - 1.2k

Brown eyes - 1k

Little clan - <1k

✵ Harry Potter:

Fred Weasley:

Promise - <1k

She calls me Freddie - series

Remus Lupin:

Off limits - <1k

✵ Lord of the rings:

Elrond:

Sunlight - 1.1k

Gravity - 1.5k

My requests are open! Currently I’m only writing for the characters listed here. However, new fics are added frequently so check back! Send me your ideas, they’re always welcome!

(If you haven’t heard back about a request, don’t worry! I haven’t forgotten you, it’s likely I’m just giving it as much time as it needs to be perfect ♡)

[mallowsweetmiri]

Hello!! I hope you are having a good time. Could you please write some comfort with fred weasley x reader having mental breakdown because she lost something important to her (I've recently lost my mp3 player which was with me for 7 years and was a support during depressive episodes; I will never find it, because I lost it outside and when I realized, it was too late? If it's too much, Could you please write just comfort about reader having a bad day? Thank you for paying attention for my request 🌟

Hi hi! I’m sorry about your mp3 player sweetie. Hopefully you like this, and it can cheer you up 😊 I did something a little different because I started fixating on the fact that ‘couldn’t wizards just summon a lost item with accio?’ lmao enjoy!

summary: Fred tries to cheer up y/n when he finds her upset in common room

warnings: none :)

—————————————————————————

It was your last class of the day and you were bored out of your mind already. History of Magic was always boring, so today you planned ahead. You head been working tirelessly on a portrait of your mother for her birthday, so you brought your drawing quill to class. As Professor Bins floated in the front of the room, you sat promptly in the back, inking the final touches of your masterpiece. It was almost the end of the class when you finished and asked to go to the bathroom. You left the sketchbook open and headed down the hallway. You were finally feeling happier as spring came around, and your mom was finally getting better. She’d been sick all winter with her illness and wasn’t doing well. You smiled as did your business and strolled back to class. When you got back, you saw Avery and Cassius snicker in your direction. As you approached your desk, you saw that your portrait had been vandalized with scratches and curse words, and a mustache drawn on your mother’s lips. Hot tears threatened to pour from your eyes as the class was dismissed, and you hurried back to the dorms. This wasn’t the first time you’d been victim to the Slytherins bullying. As you ran up to the seventh floor, you tried to hide your face as you entered the portrait hole. By now, you were hyperventilating, the ruined sketch crumpled in your hand. You had worked so hard, and now it was ruined forever. You just wanted to make your mom happy.

“Y/N?” Fred sat up on the couch when he saw your state. His eyes flashed with worry which only made you feel worse because your pain shouldn’t be passed on to Fred. He was always so sweet to you and you didn’t want to burden him with something as stupid as a painting. He began to stand, leaving behind his project on the couch.

“Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?”

Your response came out as a choked sob as Fred crossed the room to meet you. He instantly embraced you, something he had done many times before. He never minded being your shoulder to cry on, and you never minded the affection. He shushed you as he swayed you back and forth. After a moment, you sniffled and rubbed your eyes, Fred ducking down and wiping a tear off your chin. You uncrumpled the sketch and passed it to him.

“I was making this for my mom. Slytherins got to it,” you frowned, looking once again at the ruined drawing. Fred smoothed it out.

“Who did this.”

You looked up and locked eyes with Fred. There was not a hint of a smile on his face.

“Freddie…” you said, cautiously. You didn’t want anymore trouble. The drawing was already ruined.

“Who did this,” he asked again, stepping towards you and motioning to the portrait. You swallowed. His height seemed to grow as he got closer to you.

“I- uhm,” you stuttered. You didn’t want to tell him, you knew he was going to confront them. Or at least get back at them.

“Y/N, I’m not going to cause any trouble,” he started sweetly, giving you a small smile, “but they ruined your portrait. Please, just tell me who did this.” He breathed out and pleaded with his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Avery and Cassius,” you sighed. He pulled you into another hug.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I know how much this would’ve meant to your mom,” he said softly into your hair, “but she’s going to love anything you send her, darling.” He kissed the top of your head before pulling back and giving your shoulders a squeeze. You couldn’t help but smile a bit as he bid you off to your dorm for some rest. Your cheeks blushed as you thought about his smile and his hugs. He definitely knew how to cheer you up, and he would never let you go up to your dorm crying alone.

So you shouldn’t have been surprised when you went down to dinner to find Avery and Cassius with permanent inked mustaches and crosses over their eyes, but it felt just as satisfying.

[sweetpandorabox]

Lost Sweater - Fred Weasley x Female Reader (One Shot)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: Your boyfriend Fred has been looking for a specific sweater that his mom knitted him and gifted to him during Christmas last year but he couldn't seem to find it, due to its cold bold blue color he adores wearing it a whole lot, especially during cold wintery months such as these, with no luck finding it he turns to you his girlfriend of 1 year only to find that you've been wearing it all along.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Female Reader

Story Setting: This fanfiction is set in your 5th year of Hogwarts during the Order of the Phoenix.

Warnings⚠️: None this one is pure fluff.

A/N : Hey sexy it's Angel here, this week I've decided to write a super short one-shot for all of you, I'll be sure to make one of these for at least all of the Harry Potter boys and girls because it's super easy, and don't require a lot of time, anyways enjoy love you. xx

Word Count : 937

✯¸.•´¨*•✿ Lost Sweater ✿•*¨`•.¸✯

"Oh, bloody hell where is it! Fred muttered as he trashed his whole wardrobe going nuts for his favorite cobalt blue sweater with a notable golden 'F' being knit into it, George shook his head towards Fred adding a facepalm motion into his own forehead, "Mate how can you lose your favorite sweater? mom made you that last year and you wear them all the time" George added as Fred gave in. "Sigh...I've looked everywhere in this room, maybe I've left it somewhere maybe it's in the common room?... but I know I brought it with me from home" he murmured cleaning up the messy state of his wardrobe back into order. George chuckled at his frustration, "How about you wear one of the older ones you have, maybe the green ones?" he suggested leaning his back into their shared room doorframe.

Fred gives in another sigh before nodding and putting on his older navy green sweater that he's grown out of due to his height now, but he simply went with it and puts another layering jacket over the top to keep himself nice and warm. "Well I'm heading off to see my girlfriend, I'm supposed you're going to do the same huh?" George asked knowingly, Fred gives him a nod as he puts on his shoes, "Well alright then tell Y/N I said hi...I'll see you later at dinner" he mentioned leaving the door open as he leave, "Will do" Fred shouted loud enough for him to hear. Fred made his way to your dorm room still upset about his favorite sweater and couldn't help but retrace his steps when he was wearing them, but his brain was foggy he couldn't remember anything which frustrates him even more.

He finally made it into your shared dorm room, you promise him that the girls will be out doing something together and won't be back for an hour so you and Fred can cuddle for a bit before you both head out to your usual ritual of butterbeer and exploding bonbons by the lake, celebrating the weekend before Monday makes its way back through the week. 'Knock...Knock' as the sound of your wooden door echoed inside, "Oh that must be Freddie" you muttered happily, "Come in" you let out continuing to put on mascara in between your lashes by the mirror you have above your dressing table. He entered your room and closed the door behind him, "Hey beautiful how are you?" Fred asked not paying much attention to you as he takes off his scarf, beanie, and outer coat.

"Hello love I'm alright how about you?" you asked excitedly as you finished your makeup look and made your way towards Fred as his back faces you, it was a perfect opportunity for a hug from behind so you did just that. He smiles at your actions and turned around finally paying attention to you. "I'm alright as well lo-" he paused scanning you up and down, his much shorter girlfriend in her lacy underwear and a giant cobalt sweater with a golden F being knit into it topping it off with a messy bedhead-like hair. Fred blushed furiously as if red paint had made itself paint a streak straight across his face with no warning. "Babe, when did you steal that sweater? I've been looking all over the place for it... it's my favorite one" Fred asked with a slight smile on his face, you pout and looked up at him, "I-I'm sorry I saw it laying around your bed last week when I was over at your dorm room and I was cold so I took it without asking. And I never had a sweater like this one before, it's comfy and it has a giant letter, presenting the first alphabet of your name, it's rather special really" you pleaded to hope your tall ginger boyfriend would spare you from his anger.

Fred chuckled lightly at your response, "Love if you wanted a sweater just like mine you could've just asked me, mom would be more than happy to knit you one this Christmas...I bet she already did she loves you, and she thinks you're the perfect match for me because you tone down my quirky personality and you can bake.... what more could I want?" Fred mentioned still warping his arm around your waist lovingly, your face lit up with excitement. "Really? she'd do that for me? knit me my own personal sweater like this one?" you wondered as your eyes sparkled with joy, Fred chuckled louder at your response, "Well of course but for now, you can wear this one, but it's incredibly baggy on you" he touched the blue sweater watching as the hem hits around your upper thigh area which puts a smile on his face, after a bit of staring Fred couldn't resist your lips, there something about them that drives him and forced a feeling of desires to kiss it every time and so he did.

He pulled you in by the waist close to his leaving no gaps in between the both of you, he uses his pair of chocolaty brown eyes to stare deep into your soul with a smile so enthralling you often wondered to yourself if this boy was truly real at times, and before you know it he'd managed to pick you up with his strong hands and kiss you passionately that soon becomes hungry, leading Fred into landing you softly on your bed breaking the kiss leaving the both of you into a fit of giggle like young children at the park.

[severussnapedamagedlove]

There She Is

I wrote this little one shot for my a03 and ff.net but I'll post it here for those who want to enjoy it! 💚

Through a crowded hall on return to Hogwarts castle, Draco Malfoy caught the scent of the most bedazzling, luscious smell of lavender and honey as it flowed through the air. It was unlike any smell he’d ever sensed. His heart started to race at the mere touch of it as his nostrils.

The dining hall held the entire castle. It was filled with such sparking energy. Another summer holiday done, the start of a new term at their feet.

Voices of the hundreds of students and their teachers all melded into one. A single tone lost on the wave of many.

            “What is that?” Draco said. He searched around the room for something that was different, yet nothing was. It was all the same Great Hall that they had the years before.

Blaise stopped his conversation with Goyle. “What’s that now, Draco?”

            “That smell. Don’t you smell it?”

            “No,” he said curtly. “All I can smell is Theo’s breath, Goyle’s sweaty pits under those robes, and that Merlin awful smell of rain that is everywhere.” His nose wrinkled as he sniffed it again.

Draco looked to his other friends. They all shook their heads.

No one smelled what he did. The sweetness of lavender on the subtle wings of honey, sun ripened and vibrant with color. It was a summer’s day, mid-summer, with a gushing breeze. That’s what it was.

The Slytherin fifth year boys moved together through the room. It was stupid mental near the doors. The further in, the less crowded it was.

It made a difference, one summer. Draco stood overtop of most every year below him, and some above him, too. He’d grown into his limbs. They matched his overall length, rather than too long and spider-like. His body thickened. The edge of his jaw became pointed. A drop in his tone came occasionally split with a high-pitched screech when he spoke excitedly.

The puberty stick had hit Theo Nott, as well. They were the two tallest boys in their year. Nott was still a gangly creature with a pair of hunched shoulders. His fingers were too long, nails chewed to the cuticle. Red splotches of blemishes filled the entirety of his cheeks like a jinx.

Draco was grateful that he only dealt with a couple near his nose. Easily concealed with a charm his mother taught him.

A rambunctious group of second years started howling. Their hands turned to werewolf claws as they raked at the air.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “We weren’t ever like that, were we? Salazar, I hope not. I’ll have to Obliviate the memory from my own head if we were.”

The Slytherin wizards leaned against the table farthest from the entrance. It gave a wide view of the entire room and their choice not to be apart of the mindless socialization.

            “Hate to ruin your fun, but you were.” A long-legged brunette stood in their path. Her robes brushed the floor against silver kitten heels. She wore a cropped bob just at her chin. The curves she’d grown the previous summer were more defined. A waist taken in from the gentle rounding of hips. “A lot worse, too. You thought ogres were cool.”

            “It wasn’t ogres. It was trolls,” Goyle countered.

            “Yeah. And trolls are cool. Have you seen their clubs? They make those themselves as children. Children!”

Pansy rolled her eyes. Her one hip popped out to the side.

            “Whatever.” She trolled passed Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. Theo was glad to be ignored altogether. Witches made him choke up with nerves.

She took a spot near Draco. Her two palms gripped the edge of the table she leaned against. “Why are all the Slytherins such dorks?” She said with a sigh.

He smiled and said nothing. He was still in raptures of a smell he was certain that was all in his head.

            “How was dear old granny in France?” She asked.

            “About as good as visiting your sister was,” he replied flatly. “I couldn’t see one Quidditch match because of the endless events she planned during my visit.”

            “Like a lord, you went through them with a smile and never said a thing to the opposite.”

They fell into silence as the crowd dispersed to smaller, intimate groupings. The excitement of being reunited under one roof was short lived. Soon, their feast would start and all would crash down around them when the deadline and assignments started the next day.

Fifth year was the turn in their academic career. More assignments, more exams, lots of studying.

A few other fifth years appeared through the crowd. They were other players of Quidditch. One was Harry Potter, another seeker like himself. He was the best in the league. Not that Draco enjoyed admitting it. Draco was Slytherin seeker. It was an intense position to play. Every game rested in their ability to find a ball the size of a clementine all while flying and avoiding the other balls.

The other players were Weasley twins. Beaters for Gryffindor.

Pansy’s attention went to the two redheads in the homemade shirts. Her tongue ran along the inside of her upper lip.

            “Still smelling that smell, Draco?” Crabbe leaned forward from his forgotten space near them.

            “What smell?” Pansy perked at attention, pulled from whatever devious thoughts swirled in her mind when she caught sight of those twins.

He wished he didn’t notice her interest. It gave him chills to consider why she liked them so.

            “He said he smelled a smell,” Crabbe explained.

A blinding frustration raised to the witch’s eye. “Really, Crabbe? You riddle all that out by yourself, did you?”

            “Now all I smell is that ungodly stench of vanilla and cherry,” Blaise snipped. He knew very well who that scent belonged to. Pansy wore it every year. It was her favorite perfume. “Like unicorn vomit.”

Draco uncrossed his arms. The pair of them glared at each other from across his chest. It put a rather awkward tension at the back of his throat.

The scent was lesser now. It muddled in with the rest of the room. Yet somehow, he knew the source was in the room. Somewhere within.

He found himself searching for it. There were no words to explain it. A part of him knew that if he found the source of the scent, he’d know it.

            “Come on, Draco.” Pansy’s fingers tugged at his sleeve. “We’ve got better friends to talk to than these wankers.”

He heard Blaise repeat, “Wankers?” over his shoulder as they tread closer to the ranks of Hogwarts.

            “Salazar, how can you stand them?” She huffed.

Blaise Zabini managed to be under Pansy’s skin 24/7. It was curious. Upon sight, the two were at each other’s throat without provocation.

The two were instant enemies. First year. It was four years of their incessant bickering.

            “They’re not so bad,” Draco countered.

            “Nott is a freak with those legs of his. Crabbe’s head is filled with sawdust. Goyle can only talk about that weird game those boys all play. D&D or whatever. And Zabini. He’s a total wanker. Can’t keep his mouth shut for anything. I bet a Lockjaw jinx wouldn’t contain it.”

A subtle blonde brow lifted. He kept his eyes scanning through the crowd.

            “He’s only like that around you,” he explained.

Her dark colored eyes rolled away from his stare.

            “Lucky me,” she grumbled.

Draco and Pansy were friends from childhood. Neither had any siblings. Well, real siblings. Pansy had an older half-sister from her father’s first marriage. The witch was twelve years Pansy’s senior, and never bonded with the impetuous girl that Pansy was in her younger years. It left an empty void in Pansy’s life. A playmate, all her own.

The two saw each other most every week when their mothers – two high-class women without careers of their own – would have their tea parties with the other ladies of their society. Draco was more adopted by Pansy, than he took to her.

She dragged him along on her adventures, eventually making them an inseparable pair.

It was a relief when they were both sorted into Slytherin first year. The task of friend making was not an easy one. Draco struggled to express himself in a way that was absorbed positively by his peers. It was “the way he said it” that left other kids his age feeling taunted or mortified. Pansy diluted that.

Now, she steered him toward a group of Gryffindor boys that she had her eye on. Well, two. One for each eye, Draco guessed.

Something about twins fascinated Pansy, and the Weasley twins were an obsession. It started years before when they were young kids totally in love with their new school. She talked about those two nonstop. Over the years, she weaseled her way somewhat of a friendship with the pair of them.

It was confusing and beyond Draco’s interest. He merely stood at her side as a wingman when there needed some conversational support.

If he offered any such thing. Mainly, it was the awkward silent companion bit that he fulfilled.

As they stepped nearer, the scent gained in its strength. He felt the growing power of it.

            “There it is again,” he mumbled. His eyes looked frantically for explanation. Whatever was behind this scent was something. Something important. He felt it in his bones. “Where’s it coming from?”

            “What?” It pulled away from her daydreams.

            “You can’t smell that? It’s everywhere. It’s all over those Gryffindors.”

She shrugged. “What’s it smell like? Because those Weasley’s smell like an arse-load of cinnamon. I think they soak their jumpers in it or something. It’s delicious, isn’t it? I could make myself sick from smelling it.”

He scowled. That did not sound pleasant, or anything like the smell he held in his nostrils like a fox hound.

            “Like lavender and honey,” he said softly. “It’s so sweet and seductive. I can’t get it out of my mind. I smelled it at first when we got to Hogwarts, but it lessened when I stood back by the boys. But. It was still there. Just lighter. Now, it’s like we’re getting closer to whatever it is.”

Pansy thought a moment. Her mind worked in strange ways.

She tapped at her chin. “Is it a good smell?”

He swallowed thickly. “Yes. Very.”

            “We should follow it. See where it goes.”

            “Where it goes?” He touched her arm. “What do you mean, where it goes? It can’t go anywhere. It’s a smell.”

Her mouth opened in response, but words were stolen from her lips as a group of side smirked Gryffindors whistled in her direction.

            “Oi. Pansy.” That was George. The big G on his chest made that obvious. “Get over here. Settle a bet for us.”

Her shoulders clicked back in height as she strode forward, Draco’s sleeve still twisted in her grasp as a leash to follow, toward the Gryffindor Weasley bunch. There was Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, both their own year. Fred and George, the twins. Another red head Gryffindor with a homemade jumper with a bit more bounce of their step. She was the youngest, by far the best Quidditch player the house team had. Harry Potter was a fantastic seeker, one of the best, but it paled in the light of one Ginerva Weasley.

            “What’s that, boys?” Pansy smiled.

The Slytherin witch made a point to befriend many Quidditch players as to ease Draco’s friendships with others like him. She, however, preferred the company of those Gryffindors to any other team.

Her feet practically bounced off the floor as they met with the wave of red.

A final step into their confidence, and into the air around them, lavender hit Draco’s nostrils like a bludger. These Gryffindors were laced with it. Every ounce of them was blended into the scent.

Something like a dragon awoke to the closeness of the scent. It clawed and growled suddenly. Draco enraged at the fact they were not the source yet were covered in the scent of it.

His teeth grinded together, the only effort he had in restraining his anger.

            “Doofus and Dumbo here think their old switching places prank should be a favorite this year,” Ginny Weasley said with an eye roll.

            “It’s a classic,” Ron retorted. “No professor will believe it because they’ve moved onto more elaborate stuff.”

            “That’s what makes it so genius,” Fred, the other twin, said.

George bobbed his head in agreement.

            “No way. It’s so obvious,” Ginny countered. “Overused.”

            “We barely used it,” George retorted.

            “Right. Our entire childhood is just a smidge.” The redheaded witch crossed her arms.

An idea popped into Pansy’s mind. Her breath caught as she lost herself in thought, all too pleased that she had an opportunity to use their openness to make it benefit her. She casually leaned against Draco. He ruffled. He was not her piece of personal furniture to use.

A brightness came to her eyes. She tried to blink back her thrill. It didn’t work.

            “So what is it that you need from me?” She feigned indifference despite the shiver of excitement down her spine. “I’m very busy, you know.”

            “What say you about our plan?” Fred questioned.

George nodded. “If anyone knows a good prank, it is you.”

He could have dropped to his knees and kissed her shoes, saved them some time, if he wanted to kiss arse.

Draco shifted. He begged for an interruption. Anything. A troll. Ogres sieging the castle. A surprise visit from his parents would be welcome over the disturbing plots of Pansy and those twins.

            “You know I think there’s an old classic you two haven’t ever done.” Her hands raised. She stretched her fingers tall and appraised the manicure. “I’ve seen other twins do it, but maybe it’s out of your wheelhouse.”

It hit to their Gryffindor pride. Their faces contorted at the insult.

            “Nonsense,” George said.

Fred frowned. “We’ve done everything.”

The glittering dark eyes of the Slytherin witch stayed focused on her nails. “So, you’ve both had the same girlfriend?”

She finally raised her eyes. A brow quirked in challenge.

Draco himself felt his eyes widen in surprise at the suggestion.

            “Those Velarius twins at Beauxbatons dated that one dude for like two years,” she elaborated. “And they weren’t even pranksters. It was just to piss off their dad.” Her hands went to her hips. “But I’m sure everyone will get a good laugh out of your little switching prank. It’ll be like a reminder of first year. Childhood innocence, you know?”

Harry snickered. A slippery smile curled the Weasley sister.

            “That. I like that.” Ginny chuckled.

Fred and George watched the reaction of the idea spread throughout the group. It got their interest piqued. The deviant side of them stirred with their younger brother’s total disregard.

            “No witch would do it.” Ron scoffed.

Fred rubbed his chin in thought. “Oh, don’t be so sure, little tyke.”

Ron scowled.

            “There’s a fair number in these walls that are interested in us.”

It went all too Pansy’s plan. She primed for the lasting strike of her own plot.

She shrugged. “Hell, I’d do it just to see what it’d look like. Can you imagine Snape’s face? Or McGonagall’s?” A smile of cunning, confused with the love of chaos, emerged. “Salazar, I’d bet they’d have to have meetings to know if they would punish us or allow it to happen.”

Draco watched the words sink in through the Weasley’s twins. They exchanged looks. A knowing gaze between themselves, the only language spoken, as they finished their own plotting. One more than one occasion, Draco noticed their gaze on Pansy as she walked away. It was clear that something was felt for the witch. Whether it was lust or adoration, it was anyone’s guess.

He found other pursuits more interesting: Potions, Quidditch, Reading, Dueling.

But it seemed like the fiasco would be connected in his life thanks to her meddling.

            “What say you, Malfoy?” Harry Potter asked. “Think you could share the witch?”

He snorted. “I’d be glad to have a bit of quiet.”

Her elbow connectedly gently with his ribs. “Stuff it,” she murmured softly.

The group all shared a smile.

Fred stepped forward. “Not a bad idea, Pans. You got true potential.”

            “Potential we’d like to collaborate with,” George continued.

            “Interested?” They asked in unison.

Ginny chuckled. Her arms crossed in interest as she beheld the witch in her sights.

All manner of time and space stopped.

Draco’s eyes trickled through a passing crowd, their faces all a blur to him, until he landed upon the one. The one. That feeling surged up through his bones. His body knew that face. It knew it as a source of a smell that only compared to the heights of untamed ecstasy that had yet to be discovered.

He allowed that sense to seep into his soul. The instant their eyes met, it hardened. A spot reserved for only one.

Her.

            “Hermione. There you are.” Ronald moved aside to allow the new entrant into their conversation.

Hermione Granger. The witch in his sights.

Draco stiffened. Her presence set him on edge and confused his emotions all together.

A line of light circled her outline, gentle and soft, but the strength of the scent turned to a delusional cloud around his mind.

            “There she is,” he murmured.

[indigo-graves]

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