#weasly family

[overlord-of-fantasy]

Poor Ronnicans has a fever

Ron: Mom, I think I have a fever?

Molly: Oh, poor baby! Let me check. *presses lips to his forehead*

Fred: Ya know, we have diagnostic spells.

Molly: Do you have to be so mean all the time?

[gnatthecryptic]

Okay, okay, I have a WILD idea: Slytherin Ron

Harry would still try all his might to be his friend and I imagine his family is confused but supportive especially the twins who see this as an opportunity to spread their audience and consumer base

I don't see why the core parts of the story would change all that much aside from Slytherins now being in DA or Blaise joining their horcrux hunt

Ginny would batbogey hex anyone that badmouths her brother anyway so he's protected from all sides

[mssorceressupreme]

Our Deal | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x hufflepuff!reader (works for any house really, except gryffindor for story purpose)

Summary: stuck in detention with Fred for a prank you never did, grants you the deal of a lifetime. Fred would help you get with your crush, Oliver Wood, and you get him with his, Gabriella Moon, in time for the Yule Ball. Though, as you spend more time teaching each other how to "flirt", complicated feelings start to arise.

Warnings/content: hufflepuff!reader, subtle enemies to lovers, mutual pining, jealous!fred, protective!fred, jealous!reader, mentions of alcohol, parties, quidditch injury, injured!reader, tension, flirting, kissing, teasing, Yule Ball

Wordcount: 6.8k (got carried away and kinda wrote a mini fic 😭🙏🏼)

———

“This is entirely your fault,” you snapped, bending down to scrub at the sticky residue on the stone floor. “I had nothing to do with that prank.” The potions storage room air reeked with the scent of something foul, probably from whatever concoction had spilled from the shelves earlier today. All thanks to that stupid explosion caused by none other than the twin's prank just outside the room.

You gestured around at the remnants of the prank—green goo still dripping from the shelves, a set of abandoned dungbombs rolling near the base of Snape’s desk. Crossing your arms, you huffed as you glared at Fred, who was leaning against the wall with that insufferable smirk, clearly enjoying your misery.

Fred chuckled, tossing a sponge into the air and catching it lazily. “Yeah, yeah, tell that to Snape. You just happened to be there, hands covered in fluorescent goo, looking guilty as hell, which might I add, doesn't help with your case.”

“I was cleaning up the mess, Fred, not causing it” you gritted out, shoving the bucket closer to him. “Unlike you, who just stood there laughing while George ran for his life.”

Fred grinned, bending down to soak his sponge in water. “Ah, Georgie. Quick on his feet, that one. Maybe you should take notes for next time.”

Lucky for George, he managed to escape Snape's fury, leaving the stupendous detention task of reorganising and cleaning the entire potions storage room to the two of you.

“There won’t be a next time because I don’t do pranks,” you retorted. “Unlike some people.”

Fred gasped, pausing from squeezing the water out of his sponge, “No pranks? No mischief? Merlin, what a dull existence.”

You scowled, but your lips twitched. “Not all of us live for chaos.”

“You sure? Because you seem to enjoy my company a lot for someone who claims to be innocent,” he teased, turning his attention to scrubbing the fluorescent goop from the floor.

“Oh, shush If I weren’t such a good person, I’d leave this room right now and tell Snape about the other pranks you and George are planning.”

Fred turned to face you, holding back a doubtful laugh as he momentarily stopped scrubbing, “You wouldn't dare, Y/L/N.” his tone sprinkled with a hint of mockery.

You rolled your eyes, dipping your sponge back into the murky water. “Unfortunately you're right.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Because you secretly like me?”

“Because I’m not a snitch,” you corrected smugly. ____ An hour later, you were balancing on a stool, reaching for a jar of pickled salamander eyes while Fred stacked vials below. You glanced down at him, waiting for him to pass you more vials for the higher shelves.

A small played on his lips, Fred exhaled softly before handing you another vial, “Alright, since I do feel a tiny bit bad about dragging you into this, I’ll make it up to you.”

You raised your brow suspiciously. “How?”

Fred’s smirk returned. “The Yule Ball's coming up, right? I’ll help you get with whoever you want."

"In return, you promise not to rat me out about, oh, I don’t know, the prank in the Great Hall last week. Or the one from two days ago in McGonagall’s class. Or the—" He continued but you interjected swiftly.

Your eyes widened slightly, finally registering what he just offered. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, placing another vial on one of the lower shelves. “You name the bloke, and I’ll be your personal matchmaking genius.”

"You're kidding." You pressed your lips together, skeptical.

"Am not." He affirmed, "Go on, the look on your face says you have someone in mind Y/N."

A slow grin spread across your face, but you hesitated. "No one in mind." You shrugged.

Fred folded his arms, eyeing you up and down before tilting his head to the side, "I'm sensing...someone....taller than you?" Yeah, no kidding.

Without thinking you retorted, "Yeah obviously he's taller than me." Your hands flew at the speed of light to cover your mouth while turning to face away from Fred.

You hoped to hide your flushness, but you ended up losing your balance on the stool in the process. "Merlin, don't tell me you're quite literally falling for him." Fred quickly held your waist, steadying you before you could meet the ground. You grabbed his shoulder for support before adjusting yourself and returning to your respective task of arranging the vials on the upper shelf. You hadn't planned on telling anyone about your secret crush on Oliver Wood, but here you were, letting these words slip aimlessly out of your mouth.

Fred took your silence as an answer, curiosity lingering in the air.

"Ah, so there is someone on your mind." He pressed, "And who’s the unfortunate sod you fancy?"

You paused, feeling the heat of his gaze from below, "Oliver Wood..." You mumbled all too softly; even the house elves, with their sharp hearing abilities, wouldn't be able to decipher what you said.

Exhaling, you got down from the stool, standing in front of Fred and avoiding eye contact at all costs. He took slow tentative steps toward you, bending down to your level so he could hear, "Come again?" You could feel his breath on your skin.

Your eyes found his, not registering how close he was, "Oliver Wood." Your face tainted a light shade of red.

Fred choked on air, a loud chortle escaped him, "Wood? The Gryffindor Captain, Mr. ‘Quidditch is My One True Love’?"

"Shut up," you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks. You placed a hand on his chest and shoved him away playfully, "Don't tell anyone! I'll vanish off the face of this earth if you do."

Fred laughed, shaking his head. “Blimey, you’ve got high standards.”

“I barely know him, but he’s just—” You sighed wistfully. “He’s so kind and driven and—”

“Obsessed with Quidditch?” Fred interjected.

“Yes, but in a dedicated way,” you said dreamily.

Fred snorted. "Merlin, alright, fine. I’ll help you. But just know that if I have to listen to you swoon over Wood for the next month, you owe me more than just detention duty."

You beamed. “Deal.”

“Good. Because I might need your help, too.”

You tilted your head, furrowing your brows. “With what?”

Fred leaned forward conspiratorially. “Gabriella Moon.”

"Gabriella? As in, my Gabriella?"

"I didn’t realise you had ownership over her," Fred mused. "But yes, your Hufflepuff friend."

You nodded, grinning. "Oh for sure, I can definitely help with that. Piece of cake."

Gabriella was in your house, a sweet and kind Hufflepuff, and you got along with her well. Setting her up with Fred should be a simple, easy, task.

"Alright, Weasley. You’ve got yourself a deal."

Fred held out his hand, and you shook it—sealing a pact neither of you realised would completely change everything.

"Our deal." He affirmed.

____ The deal meant spending more time together. At first, it was simple things—giving each other tips, practicing flirting, and being seen together enough to spark curiosity.

One evening in the Great Hall, Fred joined you at the Hufflepuff table. Your friends sat with you, but you were so engrossed with Fred, that everyone seemed to disappear into the background, feeling as though it was only the two of you in the hall.

Fred leaned in with a smirk after placing a dinner roll on your plate, which he knew you enjoyed pairing with butter. "Alright, say I’m Oliver—how would you charm me?"

You exhaled dramatically. "Fine." You turned to him, putting on your best smile. "Hey, Oliver, fancy seeing you here. Do you always look this good after practice?"

Fred chortled, nearly choking on his pumpkin juice. "Merlin’s beard, that was atrocious."

You gasped, smacking his arm. "It was not!"

"It was!" Fred wheezed, clutching his chest. "Try again, but maybe without sounding like a lovesick poet."

You scowled but tried again. "Alright, then. How about this—‘I hear you’re the best Keeper Hogwarts has ever had. Think you could keep me?’"

Fred blinked, then groaned throwing his head back. "Oh, that was painful."

You shoved his shoulder, laughing. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," he teased, winking. "Now, do I get a turn?"

"Go on, then," you challenged, crossing your arms.

Fred turned, propped his elbow on the table, and smirked. "Hey, Gabriella," he began, "are you a Snitch? Because you’ve got me chasing after you."

You stared at him, face scrunching up in disgust. It was as though you had just witnessed a crime.

He wiggled his eyebrows before taking a mouthful of peas, chewing as he awaited your response.

You burst out laughing. "Oh, that’s horrible. No wonder you need my help."

Fred's mouth dropped, "Excuse you, that was a good chat up. Thank you very much."

You both laughed, completely unaware of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watching the way you two bantered—how Fred’s eyes softened when you laughed, how you bit your lip when he grinned. You weren't super close to Fred, just casual friends, but you had to admit, these few recent days had you seeing him in a different light, he was more carefree around you, cheery, and you felt yourself coming out of your shell, all thanks to him.

You were confident in approaching Oliver now, and all the more excited for it.

____

"No, no! Merlin, Fred, you're going to scare the girl away if you look at her like that." The next few days were all about perfecting your tactics, anything to impress your targets, of course.

"Like what?" He sat beside you on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. It was a Saturday, and naturally, most students were either at Hogsmeade, outside, or sleeping in, leaving most of the space to the two of you.

"Again! Again..." You waved your hands, ushering him off the couch. "Pretend I'm Gabriella, and I'm sitting on a bench somewhere nice. You've just walked into the place, and you see her."

Fred straightened his shirt, retreating from the couch, before strolling over to you again, a devious smirk painted on his face, his hair slightly tousled and messy. He held his chin up high, and his arms swayed beside his lanky figure as he approached you.

"Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!" He beamed, pretending to act out the scenario.

"Wrong." You corrected, "Not Y/N, Gabriella." You flashed your brows, and he exhaled, walking away to take his place once again.

He strolled to you, once more, "Gabriella! Haven't seen you in a bit! What brings you here?"

You nodded, indicating he was doing a decent job so far, encouraging him to continue.

Fred plopped himself beside you, your knees were touching and he extended an arm around you.

"I"m good! This is my favourite place to unwind actually." You fake-mocked Gabriella, pretending to be her in this situation.

"Well, then I guess you'll be seeing me here more often, darling." Fred leaned in, you could feel his body heat against you, and you blinked before shaking your head.

"Darling? You barely know the girl!" You chuckled, and Fred's eyes glinted with awe as you threw your head back, he had not realised it, but your laughter ignited a warm honey like feeling in his chest.

"Fine, what about love? Baby? Babe?"

"No no, save those for when you're actually with her, but I suppose 'love' is a good place to start."

"Alright, love." He teased, and you playfully smacked him but an idea popped into your head, and immediately, you got into character.

"If you say so, Oliver." You pretended to act as if you would in this scenario with Wood.

Fred, still seated next to you, glanced down from your eyes to your lips.

You leaned in, tilting your head and gazing from his left eye, to his lips, then to his right eye. You smiled sweetly, blinking slowly as you gave Fred your full attention, staring at him with doe-like eyes, "So, Oliver, how was quidditch practice today?"

Fred gulped, eyes blinking rapidly as he coughed, "G-Good."

You smirked, lowering your voice, "I'm sure it would've been better if I was there with you." You bit your lip as you glanced at his lips.

"You should come to the next one." Fred responded softly, smiling as he leaned in, ever so slightly, one arm still wrapped around you, and you were fully within his proximity.

You could feel your breaths against each other; his scent crept its way to your nose, and you scrunched it. He smelt like fresh grass on a hot summer's day and clean laundry in the fresh breeze, something you'd never noticed before.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, but the portrait door clicked open, and some students returned from their trip to Hogsmeade.

"That was, uh, something I'd say if I was with Oliver." You quickly dismissed this, leaning back to a comfortable distance. Fred cleared his throat, and removed his arm, "Yeah, that was good. See, told you I was a good teacher."

You scoffed, "You? Please that one was all me."

"S'pose you are getting pretty good at this, annoyingly so, in fact." He hummed and you mouth dropped slightly,

"Is that a compliment?" You beamed, wiggling a happy dance in your seat.

"Don't get too cocky Y/L/N, I have yet to see you interact with him." Fred laughed, attempting to hide his awe for your little dance.

____

Days passed, and you found yourself spending an increasing amount of time at the Gryffindor table, supposedly to get closer to Oliver. But somehow, you always ended up next to Fred, bickering, laughing, sharing food.

People noticed—Hermione tried, and failed miserably to hide her excitement for you two, George outright smirked, Ginny started whispering to Harry, smiling at the thought of the two of you, Ron was amused at how Fred could pull someone as gorgeous as you.

Only you and Fred knew about your deal, to them, they saw this as a newfound friendship, alliance, even...romance? Hermione seems to think the latter describes your relationship perfectly.

You brushed it off, for you knew that you were only helping each other, and once the deal was over, you would go back to normal.

The topic of quidditch was no foreign topic at this table, Harry making remarks about how he'll confront Malfoy, Angelina and George talking about the Nimbus 2000, Oliver and Fred discussing a new game plan.

"Hey Y/N, why don't you come watch us at practice today after lunch, it'll be fun." Oliver invited you, and you blinked in surprise.

"I'd love to!" You chimed, "How could I pass on a chance to support the best quidditch team at Hogwarts?"

Oliver beamed, laughing softly at your enthusiasm, "Ooh careful now, don't want Hufflepuff's quidditch team to hear that now do ya?"

"Consider me an ally of both teams." You chuckled, and he grinned, smiling warmly at you.

"Surely you become an honourary Gryffindor for the day?" Oliver raised his brow, before taking a bite of his toast.

"Won't miss me too much when I switch back to Hufflepuff would you?" You teased.

"Then I'll just ask you to join Gryffindor again."

You were about to pour yourself some orange juice, but Oliver moved at the speed of light, "Here, let me." He poured a glass for you, then one for himself. "Fred? Some for you too?"

"Nah mate, I'm pretty full."

Fred silently watched the two of you interact; a part of him was happy and proud, seeing the way you effortlessly interacted with Oliver, but there was this foreign feeling inside him. Like a splinter poking him from the inside, if that were even possible.

His eyes darted from you, to Oliver, then back to you.

Each time you paid attention to Oliver, laughed at his quips, his charm, a small part of Fred wanted that attention from you, again.

He wanted you for himself.

Fred shook his head, dismissing all these thoughts, where were they even coming from? He knew one thing thought, he was being silly thinking about you like this.

However, Gabriella was starting to become a long-forgotten thought.

The only person consuming his mind lately, seemed to be…you.

Fred exhaled, taking a sip of his water, hoping to refresh his mind from whatever nonsense he thought about.

It didn’t matter anyway because after this deal was done, and you were happy with Oliver, that was it. You’d go your separate ways, well, mostly. That was, after all, the whole point of you becoming close with Fred.

"By the way, is it alright if I bring a friend?" You asked Oliver.

"The more the merrier!"

"I'll bring Gabriella." You whispered trying to contain your excitement, nudging Fred who was seated beside you.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts, "Oh, yeah, that'll be great."

____

Later that afternoon, you sat in the stands with Hermione, Gabriella, and Ginny, watching Gryffindor’s practice. Oliver was in his element—focused, determined, calling out plays.

Your eyes were glued to him, who looked impossibly handsome as he soared through the air, his hair ruffled by the wind. He turned, caught your gaze, and waved with that signature kind smile of his.

Your heart stuttered and a faint blush crept on your cheeks, moments like this only pulled you in deeper. Part of the reason you fell for him, was that one day you were lost and he helped you find your way to class. Being younger than him, he felt the duty to lookout for his juniors, he was patient, kind and made you feel right at home when you felt lost. His kindness was just so endearing.

"Go Oli!!" You cheered, and Oliver waved at you again.

"Nicknames already?" Hermione, seated next to you, smiled knowingly and you chuckled as a response.

"Fred looks really determined today, isn't that a good look on him?" You nudged Gabriella, hoping to steer her focus onto Fred.

"Yeah, he does look kinda cute." She agreed, grinning up at him. "Also, thanks for inviting me Y/N, this is really nice." Gabriella turned to you, smiling sweetly. She was a kind soul, much like you, always helping others and making sure everyone felt comfortable. Of course guys would fancy her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Fred. His red hair caught the sunlight in a way that made it seem almost golden, his strong frame relaxed but still commanding attention as he sat on his broomstick, laughing with George.

There was something about him today—maybe the way his sleeves were rolled up, or the effortless confidence he carried. And for some reason, your found your heartpace steadily increasing as you continued observing him.

No. No, this was about Oliver. You shook the thought away and focused on the Gryffindor Captain instead.

Moments later, Angelina, Oliver, and Katie flew over, beaming. “Oi, you lot! Come play a friendly match with us!” Angelina called, gesturing eagerly.

You hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know... I’m not really—”

“Come on, it’s just for fun,” Oliver encouraged, flying closer. His eyes met yours, playful and inviting. You wanted to impress him. So, against better judgment, you stood and dusted off your robes. The four of you made your way down to the grassy field, and used some spare brooms.

Ginny, Hermione, and Gabriella exchanged amused glances but joined in as well.

You borrowed a broomstick—the nearest one, which happened to be Fred’s. "Can I?" You smirked, turning to Fred who took a quick break, reaching into his bag for his bottle.

"Yeah yeah, if you break it I'll crack your head." Fred teased, before chugging his water. With that, you kicked off the ground, feeling the rush of wind as you soared into the air.

The game was lighthearted, filled with teasing and playful competition. You and Oliver found yourselves in the same airspace often, exchanging witty remarks and laughter.

It felt effortless, easy. Below, Fred stood watching, arms crossed, watching in amusement as you 'bonded' with Oliver. Though you weren't sure if amusement, was the right word to use here, seeing how he kept tapping his foot.

“You’re getting the hang of this!” Oliver grinned, flying beside you.

“I’m just trying to keep up,” you joked, glancing at him.

So caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice the Bludger hurtling toward you until it slammed into your shoulder with brutal force.

Pain exploded through your arm, and your broom wobbled violently beneath you. You gasped as your grip faltered, and before you knew it, you were falling.

The ground rushed toward you, and you thudded harshly on the grassy patch. Ouch.

Oliver flew down hastily, but before he could reach you, Fred was already there, kneeling beside you, face pale.

“Are you daft?” he scolded, voice tight. “Didn’t you see that Bludger?”

You winced, trying to sit up. “It wasn’t that bad—”

“Not that bad? You fell from twenty feet up,” he snapped, his hands hovering over you like he didn’t know where to touch in case he hurt you further. “You’re going to the hospital wing.”

Oliver finally reached you, eyes filled with concern. “You alright?” He looked from you to Fred, who was still kneeling beside you, jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but Fred wasn’t having it. Before you could protest, he scooped you up effortlessly, ignoring your weak protests.

“You’re being overdramatic,” you huffed, but your heart betrayed you, beating erratically against your ribs as Fred carried you toward the castle.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he shot back, striding forward without a second glance at Oliver, who remained standing on the pitch, watching with an expression that hinted he had figured something out.

He observed as Fred held you close, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, "Hm." He was so sure that you and Fred were just friends, but the way Fred acted today made Oliver doubtful.

The others stayed back to practice, you assured them that you were fine, and that there was no need to come. ___

Madam Pomfrey fussed over you, muttering about reckless students and dangerous sports as she poured a bitter healing potion down your throat. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a full-speed hit,” she chided, waving her wand to mend the bruising on your shoulder.

Fred stayed beside you the whole time, leaning against the infirmary bed with that signature mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “So, you were trying to impress Wood, huh?” he mused, arching a brow.

“Shut up,” you muttered, cheeks warming.

“Not my fault you nearly died doing it,” he teased, nudging you playfully. “Maybe I should give you some lessons on how to survive Quidditch.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I should give you lessons on how to stop being so intolerable.”

Fred smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You laughed, the earlier pain fading into the background as the two of you fell into easy conversation.

He stayed with you the rest of the day until you felt better enough to head back to your dorm.

____

The next day, the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match had the entire school buzzing with chatter. The game was brutal, with Slytherin coming in close, though Gryffindor still came out victorious.

The moment the Snitch was caught, the stands erupted into cheers, the players celebrating mid-air before descending to the field. You watched Fred among them, his face lit up with triumph. When his eyes met yours, something unspoken passed between you.

And you weren’t so sure anymore if Oliver Wood was the one making your heart race.

You, Hermione and Gabriella made your way down to the team, "You guys smashed it out there." You chimed, clapping for the them.

"Couldn't have done it without your support." Oliver walked over to you, hi-fiving your hand which you extended for him.

"You played amazingly, especially in the second half! Fred—the way you hit the bludger right before it touched the ground, just, wow!" Gabriella beamed, waving her hands around expressively.

"Hey, all in a day's work." Fred expressed, cockily brushing his hands together which earned a giggle from Gabriella.

"You know, you should come to the party tonight, hosted by yours truly." Fred shuffled closer to Gabriella, extended his arms as he gave himself credit for hosting the party.

"More of a team effort actually, he just talks too much." Lee quipped, "But yeah, you guys should come. Gryffindor common room, at 7."

"We'll be there." Gabriella replied for the two of you, twirling her hair as she smiled sweetly at Fred.

You were happy for her truly, especially Fred, who was grinning back at her, engaging in a new conversation about what'll transpire at the party tonight.

You were happy. Yes, you were.

But, does someone who is supposedly happy for their friend, feel a pit in their stomach every time they watch them with their respective crush?

____

"How do I look?" Gabriella asked, gesturing to her outfit, fitted flared blue jeans and a yellow peplum top, with a yellow bow to accessorise.

"You look stunning, Fred's going to love it!" You chimed, "Oh wait, here-" You helped straightened her bow from the behind, "Perfect."

"Look who's talking, Oliver's going to swoon over you when he sees you in that black dress!" Gabriella stood beside you, looking in the full body mirror, shaking with excitement for the party.

The two of you made your way over to the Gryffindor common room, met with a few ravenclaws and fellow hufflepuffs by the portrait entrance.

It was no surprise that the common room was alive with celebration and merriment. You and Gabriella stepped inside, immediately greeted by George and Lee, who enthusiastically showed you around.

"Welcome welcome! You guys look great!" Lee hyped you two up, always the enhusiast.

Laughter, chatter, and the warmth of victory filled the space. As your eyes scanned the room, they landed on Fred and Oliver by the fireplace, who spotted you and beckoned you both over with bright grins.

After a while of lively conversation in the group, you and Gabriella naturally parted ways—her heading away to the couch with Fred while Oliver guided you to where his friends stood.

You chatted and laughed, but something felt off. Your attention was divided, and no matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver and his friends, your eyes kept finding Fred’s.

Across the room, you noticed his eyes constantly meeting yours, just as much as yours longed to find his.

You were snapped out of your gaze when one of Oliver’s friends playfully nudged you, shoving a drink into your hands. “Come on, have some firewhiskey on me! You’ve got to celebrate properly!”

"Oh wow, where'd you manage to get that?" You asked, curious as to how he managed to sneak in alcohol. Granted, he was older than you so it was fair to assume he was more daring when it came to liquor.

"I have my sources." The guy wiggled his brows, "Come on, drink up Y/N, join us!"

You hesitated. “I’m good, really.”

“Oh, don’t be a buzzkill. Just one!” He pushed again, grinning as if it were a challenge.

“I said I don’t want to.” Your voice was firmer now, but he rolled his eyes.

Oliver sensed your discomfort and interjected swiftly, “Knock it off Felix. She doesn’t have to drink if she doesn’t want to.”

"Alright alright, you're just a wee girl after all innit." Felix chuckled, "More for me then."

Wee girl? Merlin, who does he think he is? You scoffed to yourself, shifting closer to Oliver.

Still, the group laughed it off, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable, wanting to be anywhere but here. You excused yourself quickly, heading upstairs to a quieter gryffindor study room.

The party noise faded, and you sank into one of the couches, taking a deep breath.

A knock came at the door, before it slowly opened.

Truthfully, a wave of relief washed over you when you saw Fred entering, his usual smugness replaced with something softer. “Saw Felix being a git, it's safe to say he won't ever bother you again.”

Fred's implication that he had a word with Felix made you all the more relieved, you exhaled softly, nodding.

You smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

He stood at the doorframe for a second, inspecting your state before slowly walking over. The couch dipped upon the weight of him as he sat beside you.

“You okay?” He nudged you with his body gently.

You nodded, looking forward though you felt his gaze on you. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”

He listened intently, offering you the silence you much needed after the earlier commotion.

There was a pause before you turned to face him, “How’s it going with Gabriella?”

Fred shrugged. “Good,” he lied, then exhaled. “Alright, fine. She’s nice, but I think I bored her to death. She’s talking to Neville about some plants now.”

You chuckled. “Plants are fascinating.”

“To you, maybe. Not exactly my best topic,” Fred admitted. "Might buy a bouquet or two, but other than that I'm clueless."

"If you do, red roses are the way to go. She loves them, practically every girl does."

"Including you?"

"I adore them. Sounds a bit basic but they're a classic for a reason, they're just so...romantic." Your eyes glistened as you spoke about roses, dreaming of the day someone would buy you flowers.

"Noted, I'll pass a good word to Oliver." Fred chuckled, smiling at the way your eyes lit up, but his smiled disappeared when you frowned, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I think I’m losing it with Oliver. I feel like a total idiot for not drinking in front of him and his friends."

Fred shook his head. “Nah, you’re not an idiot....maybe a little, but not a full blown one." You slapped his arm playfully, but he continued, raising his hands in defence, "If anything, that makes you better than them. You don’t need to do anything to impress him, so what if you don't feel like drinking?”

"I don't think I'll face him again, if his friends hate me, he'll probably grow to dislike me." You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

"Nothing a little flirting can't solve," Fred was optimistic, attempting to cheer you up in this moment of despair, "Next time you see him, get more touchy. When you laugh, place a hand on his arm, lean on him, lean in to him...y'know, the usual."

"Ugh, in front of his friends?" You grumbled.

"All the better, shows you've got game." He continued to give you tips on how to approach Oliver again later, helping you plan your next move.

It was only fair of you to return the favour, leaning in slightly. “Right, so, lean in when you talk to her, like this,” you said, demonstrating the closeness.

Fred swallowed, blinking at you. “Like this?” He mimicked you, your shoulders were touching all the more, your face near his neck, his mouth a few inches away from your forehead.

You nodded, voice softer now. “And maybe say something like… ‘Your eyes are a remarkable shade of hazel, I never noticed how stunning they were until up close now. They sparkle beautifully in the moonlight, yet they manage to shine even brighter when you're caring.’”

It was meant for Gabriella. But as you spoke, something in your chest tightened. You were speaking to Fred. Really speaking to him. His hazel eyes met yours, and he leaned in once more.

His mouth parted slightly, as his eyes darted to your lips then back to your eyes. You found yourself leaning in too, your breathing became heavy.

Your heart felt like it was going to pounce out of your chest with the rate it was beating.

The air between you stilled as you both realised the weight of your words.

Before he could respond, the door creaked open. You and Fred jumped apart just as Oliver and Gabriella entered, looking at you both in confusion.

“There you are, we were wondering where you two had vanished off too.” Gabriella remarked, her eyes darting from Fred to you.

Your heart raced and Fred's face flushed a shade of red. Though completely innocent, if felt as though you were caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing.

Flustered, you quickly went to Oliver, while Gabriella made her way to Fred.

The rest of the party carried on, fun and lively, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that lingered. No matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver, your gaze kept drifting back to Fred.

____

The anticipation leading up to the Yule Ball had everyone on edge. With the Yule Ball near approaching, the talk of the castle revolved around the ball; students asking each other to the dance, flowers being exchanged, and whispers filling the corridors.

You woke up that morning with only one name in your mind—Fred Weasley. It was irritating, really. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him. You liked Oliver. You were going with Oliver. And yet, Fred’s stupid, mischievous grin had invaded your thoughts like an unrelenting charm.

At breakfast, you sat with Gabriella at your usual hufflepuff table, chatting about the Yule Ball. She was gushing about how beautiful everything was going to look, the magical snowflakes, the ice sculptures, the romantic lighting. You smiled along, but your mind was elsewhere. Across the hall, Fred was laughing with George, but every so often, you swore you caught him glancing at you.

After your 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' class, you walked out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione when Oliver approached. He was holding a bouquet of red roses, his confident smile making you a blushing mess.

"Y/N," he said warmly, holding out the flowers. "Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"

You paused, then beamed. "Of course, Oliver. I'd love to!" He pulled you in for a warm hug while students around you cheered, and whistled loudly.

You were happy—you really were. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? But as you took the roses, a strange heaviness settled in your chest.

Later that day, you found yourself with Fred, helping him prepare to ask Gabriella. You were ranting about Oliver, swooning over how charming he was. Fred, though smiling, was already fuming inside. He wanted to be happy for you. He wanted to believe this was all fine. But every word you spoke about Oliver grated on his nerves.

"Do you think Gabriella will like this?" Fred asked, holding up a box of assorted chocolates, changing the topic quickly after countless nods and 'that's great' as a response to you gushing over Oliver.

You turned to him, considering. "Yeah, she will, can't go wrong with chocolate. You got this, Freddie!"

"Right," he said, running a hand through his hair, looking more uncertain than usual. He was prolonging it, he knew it. He didn't want to ask her. He had someone else on his mind now. But what choice did he have? You were already going with Oliver.

When he finally did ask Gabriella in the courtyard, you cheered for him, clapping as she said yes. It was the right outcome—technically, you both won. And yet, watching Fred grin as he hugged Gabriella filled you with an unexpected wave of envy.

_____

The Yule Ball arrived in a flurry of excitement. You walked down the stairs with Oliver, arm in arm, dressed in your most elegant red gown. Across the entrance, you saw Fred with Gabriella. You both gave each other thumbs-up and smiled, though your smile never quite reached your eyes, nor did Fred's.

As you approached the entrance, Oliver and Gabriella walked in first, conversing with each other, leaving you and Fred standing alone for a moment.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets before breaking the silence, "So…we both got what we wanted."

You exhaled, forcing a smile. "Yeah…we both got with our dates. All too smoothly, I might add."

You both chuckled, but there was an undeniable weight in the air.

"You look nice, cleaned up well for Oliver eh? Lucky bloke." Fred joked, though his voice was laced with subtle serious undertone.

"Hm, you don't look like a grindylow for once, I see you clean up pretty nicely too."

He chuckled softly, removing his hands from his pockets. Neither of you moved, it was as though a silent message of 'please stay here with me' was shared.

You hesitated before extending your hand. "Thank you, Fred. For everything."

He took your hand, shaking it lightly, but neither of you let go. There was a static, a spark, if you would, something both of you didn’t want to ignore. You both looked down at your touching hands, then back to each other.

Oblivious as to what the other party was thinking, the two of you decided to ignore it, let go, and move on, for the better, right?

"So, that's our deal done then?" you said slowly, though regretting it.

Fred swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah. I'll, uh…see you around school then."

Your heart clenched, but for the sake of the ball, you put on your best grin. "I'll see you around, Fred."

You then turned to Oliver who was a few steps ahead, extending his arm to you. As you walked with him into the ballroom, you turned back one last time.

Fred was still standing there. You waved. He waved back, smiling—but his eyes told you that there was something masked beneath that smile. Gabriella came up to him, and they walked inside together, you turned forward to let them have their moment.

The ball was everything you imagined—beautiful, magical, enchanting. Oliver was the perfect gentleman, twirling you around the dance floor, kissing your hand, your cheek, your forehead, even. He got you punch, held the door open, pulled out your chair, he was the ideal guy, truly ticking off all your boxes.

You smiled at him, but your heart was never quite satisfied, there was a space yet to be filled.

And you hated that you knew why.

Your eyes kept drifting to him. He was dancing with Gabriella, but his mind was far away. Uncomfortable. Lost.

You chuckled to yourself, shaking off this silly feeling, turning your attention back to Oliver, who was explaining about his latest tactics for the upcoming Quidditch match with ravenclaw.

____

Later that night, Oliver walked you back to your common room. He leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You lips curled up into a grateful smile, thanking him for the wonderful evening, but as he turned to leave, something inside you snapped.

If something was wrong, you needed to fix it. Merlin, what's the point in waiting? If something didn't feel right, your gut knew that you had to fix it right away. And this, was one of those moments.

You turned on your heel and ran in your red gown. Through the castle, past students, up and down staircases—you had no plan, no direction, just a need to find him.

Until you did.

At the main staircase, you froze. Fred was at the bottom, looking up at you. He was holding a bouquet of red roses.

Your throat tightened, immediately regretting your decision. "For Gabriella?"

Fred shook his head. "No." He stepped forward, "They're for you."

Your paused, holding your breath as he started walking up the stairs, to you.

"Y/N, I—" Fred hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "I don’t want Gabriella. I don't think I ever did, truthfully. I just…I wanted to be with you. And I was too much of a git to see it until it was too late."

Tears burned at your eyes. "Fred—"

"I don't care about the deal. I don't care about anything except you. I don't want to ever lose you Y/N. And if I have to watch you with Oliver one more time, I think I might actually go mental."

He was close now, the roses in one hand, the other reaching for you.

You let out a shaky laugh. "You're such a git, you know that?"

Fred grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. "Yeah. But I’m your silly git, if you'll have me."

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. You surged forward, crashing your lips to his, your hands gripping his suit. He dropped the flowers, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

It was passionate, desperate, hungry, everything you had ever wanted but had been too blind to admit. The kiss of two people who were starving and desperately in need of each other. Fred savoured every bit of your mouth, as though tomorrow would never come, ending with a sweet peck.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, a grin sprawled across that deviously handsome face of his, his hair messy but Merlin, it was such a look on him. "So, I take it that’s a yes, love?"

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his. "Yes, you fool."

Fred cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek once again. "Best deal I’ve ever made."

[rainydayathogwarts]

Dear diary - George Weasley x gf!reader, perv!Ron weasley

summary: Ron can't help his crush on his older brother's girlfriend, and catches himself in some inconvenient situations cw: SMUT, exhibitionism a little bit wc: 2.3k+

Ron was officially jealous of his older brother. Not that he hadn’t been before. George was the taller, funnier, more athletic version of himself, who was loved by everyone around him but the exceptional slytherins. But most importantly, George was loved by you. Despite you being two years older than Ron, in the same year group as the twins were, his delusions led him to believing that in some universe, he had a chance with you. It was never an option in his mind that you’d end up with one of his brothers. In fact, he’d never seen you speak to either of the twins until you’d strolled into the common room one day, hand in hand with the one and only George Weasley. 

Ron was a jealous man by nature, but seeing you with George made him resent his older brother. Whenever Ron smiled at you in the hallway before you’d started dating George, you’d always had the decency to at least acknowledge his presence, however now you were so preoccupied by cozying yourself into George’s side that you didn’t even avert your gaze from him. Ron watched as you led George onto the couch in front the fireplace, letting him sit down before sitting yourself right next to him and threw your legs over his lap. George snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you tighter against him, and you leaned your head on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. George’s second hand came to rest on your exposed calf, caressing your leg up and down. Ron averted his gaze from his brother to you, and your cotton shorts that allowed Ron such a view of your legs.

Ron felt the couch dip down next to him, and he only removed his stare from your figure when he heard Hermione’s warning of “Don’t let any of your brothers catch you staring at her. If Fred finds out, then so does George, and if George finds out… Well.” Ron furrowed his eyebrows, mumbling “What do you mean?” but Hermione only gave him a knowing look.

As the months went on, Ron only hoped that you and George would finally break up, and that some months later you’d magically realise that he was the wrong brother for you, and that Ron had been waiting for you the entire time. George would have to get over it, Ron thought. However, to Ron’s horror, you and George had made it all the way to the summer, and after meeting his parents, Molly and Arthur had insisted you stay at the Burrow for a while over the holidays. Ron was dreading the two weeks you’d agreed on staying with them for, and had even complained to Ginny that the Burrow was too full, but she’d only snapped that it never seemed too full when his friends were staying over.

Ron was the first of his siblings to make it onto the platform when the Hogwarts Express arrived to the station. He made the most of the hugs and kisses his parents showered him with, sure that from the moment you’d walk off the train, all the attention would be on you. And Ron stood correct. Laughing along with Fred and George about something they’d said, Ron immediately noticed the arm George casually had around your waist, keeping you close to him as you carried your bags across the station to meet his parents.

Unsurprisingly, Molly had immediately started gushing over you, and had gone on about how lovely it was to see you again. You bathed in the flattering comments, returning the compliments to the woman, who encouraged you to head to the Burrow with George by apparition. Ron had scowled at her words, imagining what you’d do once you got home alone. Would you let George kiss you deeply, push you on the couch while he praised your body, or would you only let him peck your lips softly, asking him where to put your belongings. Ron had discovered that he was wrong on both accounts. You hadn’t done either of these things, instead leaving your luggage by the stairs, allowing George to lead you outside and show you nature’s glory all around the burrow.

Ron made it a point to avoid you throughout all your stay, Hermione’s words stuck in his head. What would George do if he found out about Ron’s crush on his girlfriend? No matter, he’d rather George think he disliked you than liked you. Besides, you had Ginny there to give you all the attention in the world, so happy to have another girl in the house that George often found himself trying to steal you back from her.

Ron sat in the living room while you helped Molly bake some goods in the open kitchen, letting the twins play a game of Quidditch in the yard. Ginny sat at the kitchen table, in charge of making entertaining conversation while you and Molly spoke about the recipe. Though at Ginny’s question “Are you and George going to get married?” Ron felt the energy in the entire room shift. His eyes glanced up from the sports magazine he read to see the look of shock on your face, eyes wide and jaw slack. Molly gasped, immediately scolding the young girl for her invasive question. “It’s fine Mrs. Weasley,” You reassured, adding “I don’t know Ginny, that’s kind of a loaded question.”

Your response was timed just right, because two seconds later, Fred and George came walking through the door, all sweaty from their match. You straightened your posture at the sight of your boyfriend, traveling the small distance of the kitchen so that George could easily whisk you away into a tight hug as soon as he walked into the kitchen. He used the grip on your body from his hug to spin you around, blocking you from his mother with his big back profile to dip his head down and give you a lengthy kiss. Ron, seated at just the right angle to have a perfect view of the kiss — and the cheeky squeeze George gave your ass — huffed in his chair, envy stirring inside him.

When the cookies you made were safely in the oven, you excused yourself upstairs, where George and his twin had retreated to shower. Knocking on the twins’s door, you were welcomed with a view of your shirtless boyfriend, aggressively drying his hair with a towel. George grinned at you, shutting the door behind you when you entered, and leading you to his bed. George hugged you close to his chest, pressing fluttering kisses on your forehead while Fred finished his shower. “I don’t think your younger brother likes me.” You mumbled, drawing shapes on George’s bare chest with your finger. “That ridiculous, sweetheart.” George answered, a laugh bubbling in his chest. You pulled away from him, an offended look on your face. “Baby, wait!” George laughed, tugging you back into him. “It’s ridiculous because Ron has the fattest crush on you. Read it in his diary.” 

The bathroom door opened, and Fred stepped out in a heap of steam from his hot shower. “Hey, don’t take credit for that!” Fred called out, imitating his brother's movement of ruffling his hair with a dry towel. “Right, excuse me. Fred read it in Ron’s diary, then brought me the diary, and then I read it in the diary.” You chuckled, pushing yourself up on the bed, looking back and forth between the two twins. “You promise?” You asked, watching as Fred nodded his head in reassurance. “What do you mean ‘you promise’? You want my brother to have a crush on you?” George asked with a frown. “Well I’d rather he have a crush on me than dislike me.” George scoffed, shaking his head. He unraveled his arms from around you, standing up and leaving the room momentarily. You blinked slowly and sat up straight on the bed, wondering if you’d upset him. “Don’t worry, he’s going to get the diary.” Fred said, turning his back from you to get dressed.

It was only seconds later that George came back, a scrappy red notebook in his hands. He spent a while flicking through the pages until he finally held a finger up, as if to silence you. “My most recent problem is that I have the fattest crush on my brother’s fucking girlfriend.” George started, and you covered your face with your hands, predicting the horror of what would come next. “She’s got a great smile, great legs. Honestly, everything about her is great. I just wish that she was sleeping with me instead of Mr. George fucking Weasley.” Your jaw went slack, and Fred giggled from where he stood, listening to George beginning to flick through the pages again. “So George’s girlfriend is staying with us over the summer break for a little while, which is going to be an absolute - uh what does that say?” Fred joined George to inspect the handwriting before they called out “Nightmare!” In synch.

“An absolute nightmare, because I’m going to be hard the entire time she’s there, but my only source of relief will be seeing her with my brother. I swear to godric, if I hear them have sex and she moans George’s name, I’m going to cry. Oh hey, I don’t remember reading that bit!” George added, putting a hand on his hip and humming apprehensively while he thought for a moment. You and Fred shot each other a look, and he grinned boyishly at you, commenting. “Well, I’ll make sure to leave you guys the room for a little bit.” You felt your cheeks heat up, eyes trained on George as he tossed the diary to the side, climbing back over you on the bed. George pushed your hair to the side, putting some of his weight on you as he started pressing kissed on your neck. “Yeah, and have him call us down for dinner, will you?” Your eyes widened in shock, letting George push you down on the bed as he continued his attack on your neck, barely acknowledging Fred, who finally walked out of the room, letting you have temporary privacy.

George pulled the blanket from under you, separating from you to pull his trousers off. Luckily for you, he hadn’t put on a shirt yet, and was making quick work of taking yours off. “Baby, isn’t this a little cruel?” You asked him, accepting the kisses he left on your lips, and arching your back so he could slide his hands underneath you, unclasping your bra. George nodded in agreement, tossing your bra so it landed by the door. “It’ll help him get over you.” He responded, tugging your trousers and underwear down your legs. “What, to see me naked?” George laughed, balancing himself over you as you helped him remove his boxers. “No one is going to be seeing you naked but me. What’s going to help him move on is to see me on top of you. And to hear you screaming my name.” He whispered against your lips before pecking them softly, feeling your hands trail up to grip his muscular biceps. “Yeah? You plan on making me scream?” George didn’t answer you this time, only bringing his fingers down to your clit, where he began making small circles. 

At your small gasp, he smiled, gripping his cock and bringing it towards your entrance. George spread your legs wider, making more space for himself between your thighs. In a few curt thrusts, he sheathed his cock inside you, biting his lip harshly and letting his head fall into the crook of your neck as he tried to adjust himself inside you, calming his breath down while listening to your little moans. “Shit, that was harsh, I’m sorry baby.” He apologised, cupping your cheeks and bringing you into a soft kiss. “Wasn’t harsh, feels good. Can you move?” The slow drag of George’s hips had your jaw going slack, head digging into the pillow behind you as your eyebrows furrowed. George grunted, abs constricting with pleasure with each snap of his hips against yours. Absentmindedly, George reached back to pull the blanket over his torso, covering your naked body from view. The sounds coming from your mouth however, were free for anyone to hear.

As George increased the power and speed of his thrusts, so did the volume and frequency of the sounds you made. You desperately gripped onto George’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin while a string of moans flowed out of you. The most recurring sound you made? His name. And that was the first thing Ron heard when he cracked the door open to come fetch you both for dinner.  Everyone was already outside, the dining table laid out under the night’s sky, but Ron was shooed away to call you down for dinner. Ron froze, hearing the high pitched cry of his brother’s name escape your mouth, back arching so your chest pushed against your boyfriend’s. Even worse, Ron could hear the sound of his brother’s hips driving into yours with every thrust, and the soft encouragements he told you. “That’s right, say my name baby.” He groaned into the crook of your neck. Ron loudly slammed the door shut, turning his back to it as he processed what he saw.

The slam of the door barely reached George’s ears with the way you screamed his name as you orgasmed, cunt clamping down on his cock so hard that he could only see white, whimpering your name in a manner he will deny ever happening. Your pussy milked George’s orgasm out of him, making him pant heavily against you, and you ran your fingers through his hair when you finally recovered from your own orgasm. When George also recovered, he slowly pulled out of you, pressing a loving kiss on your lips before slumping against you once more. You giggled teasingly, saying “All that for him not to even show up.” But your comment only backlashed humiliatingly when a George scoffed, saying “Oh no, he showed up alright.”

[lqveharrington]

Every Year in Greece? | F.W.

summary: after ten years of marriage, you and Fred find yourselves celebrating in Greece with your family.

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

includes: PURE FLUFF, reader is implied pregnant at the end

a/n: I’m about to be free of all stress after March 8, so the posting should be consistent very soon!!

Love is absolutely endless. No matter how, where, or who falls in love, it was always bound to come. In your life, it came the second you met Fred Weasley in your first year at Hogwarts. Maybe it didn’t occur to you straight away that he was the true love of your life, but you knew as time went on.

Now it was your ten-year wedding anniversary.

This year, your family had collectively agreed to celebrate in Greece, with the added surprise of Molly and Arthur joining to watch over your two troublemakers—children you and Fred loved with every piece of your hearts.

Sunlight filtered through the white curtains, casting a golden glow over the room where you and Fred lay tangled beneath soft sheets. His head rested in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your skin as you lazily traced patterns into the freckled expanse of his back. The world outside was quiet save for the distant sound of waves lapping against the shore. Peace. Pure, perfect peace.

Until it wasn’t.

With a burst of energy only Weasley twins possessed, the door slammed open. The newly appointed Weasley twins—Jane and Henry—launched themselves onto the bed with gleeful squeals, sending Fred jolting upright, hair tousled and eyes bleary.

“M’sorry, lovey,” you mumbled and pressed a kiss to his head as he groaned in mock agony. You reached for the two lively children, pulling them into your arms. “Now how did you two escape Nana and Papa?”

“They were busy making breakfast for us!” Jane answered with a bright grin, laughter filling the air when Fred began to tickle her. She squealed, squirming in your arms. “Daddy!”

You chuckled softly before turning your head toward Henry, his laughter quieter than his twin’s. You nudged your chin to his forehead, earning his attention. “Are you excited to head to the beach, Henry?”

He shifted in your arms and nodded, his browns eyes—the same one’s his father had—sparkling with excitement. “Yes! I’m gonna build the biggest sandcastle in the world! It’s gonna be bigger than the Burrow!”

Fred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, Jane now in his arms and messing with his hair. “Bigger than the Burrow? Mate, we better get to the beach now before other people begin taking all the sand!”

Henry’s mouth fell agape, voice coming out as loud as his father’s. “People do that?”

You suppressed your laughter as Fred dramatically described his story about his vacation to Egypt when he was fifteen—slipping out of bed to get for the day for Godric knows how long the twins will encourage their father to keep talking.

By the time you exited the bathroom with the white sundress Fred bought you just for Greece and hair pulled back—still styled perfectly like usual—Henry was sitting crisscrossed on your side of the bed still listening to his father while Jane finished another braid in his hair. As always, Fred remained unbothered by anything his children did to his hair, especially the braids his daughter adorned him with.

���—And your uncle Georgie and I could’ve trapped your uncle Perce in the tomb when…” Fred trailed off as he saw you step out of the bathroom and began to pack for the beach. His eyes scanned your figure before meeting your eyes, your warmed cheeks saying unspoken things. “Bloody hell, your mum’s gorgeous.”

At the mention of their mother’s return, the twins whipped their heads in your direction, clambering over the bed to race into your loving arms one more. You stumbled at the sudden impact and held them close, your smile absolutely blinding to Fred.

“You two need to get out of your jammies and into beach clothes,” you squeezed their shoulders and ushered them out of the room swiftly, tilting your head out the doorway to ensure they made it to their room before turning back to Fred. “You need to change too, Weasley.”

Snapping out of his quiet daze, he finally stood and stretched like a lion, freckles that were scattered across his body practically glittering from the rays of sunlight. He met your stern look—the one where you narrowed your eyes at him with your hands on your hips—and placed a large hand on your waist, pulling you close to him.

Keeping your facade up, you bite your tongue in hopes of not letting a smile slip through. However, nothing ever gets past Fred Weasley’s careful eye.

“I suppose,” he murmured and tilted his head down to meet your eyes properly, squeezing your hip softly.

You subconsciously wet your lips and flit your eyes down to his inviting lips—instantly lifting them back to meet his teasing eyes. “Better hurry if you want to help Henry make his sandcastle.”

Fred hummed and thumbed your waist, “Sure.”

Finally giving in, you wrapped your arms around his neck as a loving smile adorned your face, pushing on your toes to be closer. You play with the hair in your reach, twirling the red hair in between your fingers. “I love you, Fred Weasley. I hope you know that.”

He grinned and closed the distance between the two of you, pressing a tender kiss to your lips and pulling you impossibly closer to him. Fred deepened the kiss ever so slightly before pulling away, leaving you in a daze and wanting more.

“I love you a helluva lot more,” he looked between your eyes and slowly release you from his hold. “I’ll see you in a minute, gorgeous.”

“You make me swoon,” you tease lightly as you moved around him to exit the room, jokingly glaring at him when he smacked your ass on the way out.

The morning sun continued to stream through the windows as the Weasley family gathered around the kitchen table, the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of Molly’s famous pancakes and Arthur’s perfectly brewed tea. Jane and Henry were already seated in front of their breakfast with the kind of enthusiasm only children could muster, syrup somehow already smeared across their cheeks when their father entered the kitchen.

And indeed, Fred Weasley indeed made you swoon.

When he wandered into the kitchen with the bag you packed for the beach, you felt your face heat up at the sight. He wore his light blue summer shirt that complimented his features beautifully—you honestly weren’t sure if he was a greek statue brought to life.

“Mum, you’re gonna cut into the plate.” Jane giggled and stopped your movements, tilting her head when you snapped your attention back to her food. “What’re you staring at daddy for?”

“Why are you being nosy?” Fred poked his daughter’s back, smiling when she laughed at the familiar feeling. “Mum can stare at me all she wants.”

Fred slid into the seat beside you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair as he leaned in to whisper, “You know, I could get used to this. Waking up to you, the kids, and a view like that.” He gestured toward the window, where the sparkling Aegean Sea stretched out endlessly, its waves glinting like diamonds under the morning sun.

You smiled, leaning into him slightly. “Ten years of this, and you’re just now getting used to it?” You teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“Ten years of this,” he echoed, his voice softening as his gaze met yours. “And I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Jane scrunched her nose in playful disgust, stuffing her mouth with a fork full of pancakes with blueberries. “Ew, Daddy. You’re so mushy.”

Fred gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if she had wounded him. “Mushy? Me? I’m the definition of ruggedly handsome, Jane.”

Henry, still munching on a piece of cut up banana, giggled and shook his head. “Mum thinks you’re handsome, but you’re just silly.”

You smirked and took a sip of your tea as your kids argued with their father, knowing they were an exact replica of him. You sighed and rested a hand over your stomach, holding back a laugh when Jane stuck her tongue out at Fred.

“I happen to like silly.” You added as Fred stuck his tongue out at his daughter, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

Fred locked eyes with you and waggled his eyebrows. “I guess you're lucky too, love, because you’re stuck with me.”

The morning passed in the easy rhythm of family life—Molly and Arthur doting on their grandchildren, Fred entertaining the twins with wild hand gestures as he retold stories—this time slightly exaggerated for dramatic effect—and you soaking in every moment.

By late morning, you made your way to the beach, the golden sand warm beneath your toes. The twins raced ahead, kicking up tiny clouds of sand as they shrieked with joy. Fred, carrying the beach bag, walked beside you, fingers loosely laced with yours.

“You happy, love?” He asked, squeezing your hand gently.

You turned your face up to the sun, the salty breeze playing with your hair, and sighed contentedly. “More than I ever thought possible.”

Fred grinned and tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple before lifting his voice. “Alright, team! Let’s build a sandcastle bigger than the Burrow!”

Henry and Jane cheered, already digging into the sand with determination.

You knelt beside them as you set up the blanket on the sand, laughter bubbling from your lips as Fred made a show of supervising, hands on his hips like some kind of foreman. The hours passed in golden warmth, filled with playful splashes in the sea, shrieks of delight as Fred tossed the kids into the waves, and soft, stolen kisses between you and your husband when the twins weren’t looking.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in a golden glow, the four of you sat before your grand sandcastle—an uneven, slightly lopsided but utterly magnificent creation.

Jane leaned against you sleepily, her damp, red-curls sticking to her forehead. “This was the best day ever,” she murmured, yawning.

Henry nodded in agreement, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Yeah… Can we do this every year?”

You glanced at Fred, your heart swelling at the sight of him watching your children with so much love it was almost tangible. He met your eyes and smiled, the same boyish, mischievous grin you’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Every single year,” Fred promised, voice full of warmth.

You lean closer to him and give him a quick kiss, eyes shining with your own secret. “Maybe with one more addition to the family,” you whisper.

His eyes widened and looked down toward your stomach, grin widening when you nodded. He pulled you closer to him, in return pulling the sleepy twins along.

And in that moment—with your family nestled together, the waves whispering their lullaby, and the sky painted in fiery shades of orange and pink—you knew that love, real love, was absolutely endless.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[httpvomitello]

Could you write one for Fred where she's a Malfoy and is the first time that Fred takes her to the burrow?

Helloo, thanks for the request. I hope you like it ~ ♡

She's My Malfoy .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: Being a Malfoy meant living under constant scrutiny. Your family’s legacy was built on wealth, power, and an unwavering belief in blood purity—beliefs you had never shared. But no matter how much you distanced yourself, people still saw Malfoy before they saw you. That included the Weasleys, who had every reason to despise your name. Now, for the first time, Fred was bringing you to the Burrow, hoping his family would see what he did: that you were nothing like them.

fred weasley x f!reader

Fred was a lot of things. A troublemaker, a prankster, a complete menace to authority. But most of all, he was fearless.

That’s why you were so surprised to see him hesitating at the front door of the Burrow.

“Fred?” you asked softly, squeezing his hand.

He startled and grinned at you—his usual charming, easy grin that made your heart race. But this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Sorry, love. Just thinking about how Mum might actually murder me tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean us?”

“No, no, just me,” he assured. “You’re too pretty to kill. I, on the other hand, am about to get a one-way ticket to the afterlife.”

You rolled your eyes but felt the weight behind his words.

Fred had fought for you every step of the way. From the moment you started dating, he made it clear that your last name didn’t matter to him. But the rest of the world—including his family—wasn’t so forgiving.

He had told them you were coming, of course. And the silence that followed had been deafening.

Now, standing in front of the crooked, charming house that was so unlike Malfoy Manor, you felt something rare: nerves.

Fred must have sensed it, because he lifted your intertwined hands and kissed the back of yours. “For the record, I’d choose you over them. Any day. Every time.”

Your chest tightened, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in and kissed him.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you whispered.

The moment the door opened, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

You had met Ron and Ginny at school, and while they weren’t exactly friendly, they hadn’t been outright hostile either. But stepping into the Burrow was different.

It was like walking into enemy territory.

Mrs. Weasley, who had been setting the table, stopped when she saw you. Mr. Weasley, who had been reading the Daily Prophet, slowly lowered the paper. The tension in the room was suffocating.

“Well,” Mrs. Weasley said finally, forcing a polite smile. “You must be Y/N.”

You nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley.”

Fred’s grip on your hand tightened.

Ginny, sitting at the table, crossed her arms. “So, what’s it like in Malfoy Manor? Do you guys have dungeons for the Muggle-borns, or do you just hex them at dinner?”

“Ginny,” Mr. Weasley scolded.

But you didn’t flinch. You had expected this.

“I wouldn’t know,” you said evenly. “I left as soon as I could.”

Ron, who had been watching you closely, frowned. “Yeah? And your family just let you?”

You hesitated for half a second, but Fred jumped in.

“She didn’t exactly get a warm send-off, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Mrs. Weasley’s expression softened, but only slightly.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “you’re here now. Come sit.”

Dinner was... tense.

Conversations stalled when you tried to join in. The twins—normally the most talkative—seemed quieter than usual. Even Fred, who had been his usual carefree self earlier, was unusually serious.

The moment you stood to help with the dishes, Mrs. Weasley waved you off.

“That’s not necessary, dear.”

You hesitated. “I don’t mind.”

She smiled tightly. “I said it’s not necessary.”

It was a small thing, but it felt like a warning. You were a guest. An outsider. No matter how much Fred loved you, you weren’t one of them.

Fred sighed beside you, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, enough of this,” he said abruptly. “Can we just talk about it?”

Silence.

Then George leaned back in his chair. “Talk about what, exactly?”

Fred scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know, Georgie. Maybe the fact that everyone here is treating my girlfriend like she personally kicked a puppy?”

“She’s a Malfoy, Fred,” Ginny snapped.

“And so what?” he shot back. “She didn’t pick her family, same way we didn’t pick ours.”

Ron crossed his arms. “It’s not just about the name, mate. It’s about what that family’s done. What her family has done.”

That was it. You had been silent long enough.

“I’m not my family,” you said sharply. “I don’t believe in their cause. I don’t support them. And I sure as hell don’t owe them anything.”

Ginny scoffed. “Easy to say when you grew up with everything.”

Your blood boiled. “You think money made that house any less of a prison? You think I ever felt safe there?” Your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “My father saw me as nothing more than a political tool. And Draco—” You swallowed hard. “Draco still thinks he can fix me.”

The table was deathly silent.

“I walked away from all of it,” you finished, voice quieter now. “And I didn’t do it because it was easy. I did it because it was right.”

Fred reached for your hand under the table, and you let out a slow breath.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley spoke.

“We’re just... protective of our own.”

“I get that,” you said softly. “But I’d never hurt Fred. I’d never hurt any of you.”

Another long pause.

Then, Mr. Weasley gave you a small nod.

Ron and Ginny didn’t say anything, but they weren’t glaring anymore.

And when dessert was served, you swore you saw Mrs. Weasley add an extra slice of treacle tart on your plate.

Fred leaned in and whispered, “That’s a good sign.”

You exhaled, squeezing his hand.

Maybe, just maybe, you were one step closer to belonging.

[sunburnhurts]

Artist || Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: Fred finds himself in the same classroom as Y/n, they soon bond over Y/n's art piece.

Words: 2,259

All My Stories

Sitting on a stool, Y/n leans in to get a better view of her canvas. Something about it looks wrong to her, she couldn't tell what. She attempted to paint the view from where she was sitting. She looked out the window at what she was trying to recreate, then back at her canvas. Sighing, she leans back rubbing her eyes in frustration.

She then hears the door to the empty classroom she was in open. Turning her head to the noise, she sees a tall red head shut the doors quickly behind him. Unsure what the sudden commotion is, Y/n stayed in her seat which was located in the far corner of the classroom. She quickly identified the boy as one of the Weasley twins, she just couldn't tell which one from where she was sitting.

She watches as the boy looks around the classroom, his eyes landing on her. He was a bit out of breath from running, he stood with his back to the door as he caught his breath. After a few moments of them staring at each other, Y/n looks away, back out the window.

Letting his curiousness control him, he walks over to the girl, taking a peek at her art. Y/n looks back at the twin, now close enough to identify that it is Fred. "This is bloody brilliant!" He says, leaning into the painting with his hands behind his back.

"Thank you," Y/n says a bit shyly. Y/n never talked to either of the twins before even though they are all in the same year, they are also all Gryffindors. She wasn't like them, energetic and friendly with everyone she met. Yes, she was nice to everyone she met, but it takes more time for her to be able to befriend the person.

If anything, she hated people that would befriend anyone and anything, she found the behavior fake. She needed a reason to be friends with someone, needed a special connection. She felt as if a friendship wasn't special if you act the same with everyone else. So at first, she was a bit hesitant to befriend a Weasley. Sure, she found him a bit cute, but that didn't mean anything if they didn't know each other.

Y/n watches as Fred looks at her, saying, "What are you painting?" She leans away from the window so he can see the view. He looks out, his eyebrows raised in surprise to how similar the view and the painting are. "That's seriously incredible, I didn't know you painted!"

"You don't know a lot of things about me," Y/n slightly jokes, but she really did know he knew nothing about her.

"That's not true, I know you're really quiet and smart." Fred says, looking down at the seated girl.

"And how do you know that?" Y/n looks up, slightly smiling.

Fred smiles, going back to observing the painting. "We are in a lot of the same classes, didn't think I noticed you?" He asks.

"Honestly, no." Y/n laughs, wondering why he would have noticed her when he spends all class joking around with other people.

"Well I have, for a while actually." He says, turning back to the girl. Suddenly, hurried footsteps are heard outside the classroom door. Fred hears this and hides next to a bookshelf that is blocking him from the view of the door.

Y/n looks over, seeing a Professor Snape burst into the room. He looks around the room, then spots Y/n. "Ms. Y/l/n, have you seen George or Fred Weasley?" He says in his low voice. It was obvious Fred has done something wrong, and obviously to the wrong person. The last person you should mess with is Snape, the consequences would be essay after essay.

"No, Professor Snape." Y/n responds, saving Fred.

"Very well," Snape responds, his eyes flickering from the painting back to her, nodding and exiting the room. Y/n looks over at Fred once Snape fully closed the door.

"Thanks for saving me, Y/n." Fred says, stepping away from the bookshelf, walking back to Y/n.

"So what did you do for Snape to be looking for you?" Y/n asks.

"Me and Geroge pulled a prank, we switched some of the potions around. We wanted one of our classmates to be the ones with the switched potions, but of course Snape had to use them." Y/n smiles, trying to imagine what kind of explosion happened to Snape.

"You can't hide forever, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Fred laughs. Y/n laughs back, then turns her attention back to her painting, still trying to figure out what was wrong with it. "You're not finished?"

"No, I can't figure out what's wrong with it, it looks empty." Fred looks at her confused, genuinely thinking the painting is perfect.

"Maybe it needs people?" Fred suggests.

"You're right!" Y/n exclaims. "I don't know why I didn't think of that!" Fred smiles, crossing his arms as he watches the girl in front of him turn to look at him. He raises his eyebrows, interested in what shes going to say. "Want to add someone?"

Surprised, Fred shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't want to ruin it."

Y/n laughs, getting up from the stool. "No, please, if its really bad I can paint over it." Fred gives in, sitting down and picking up the paint brush. Y/n stands behind him, watching as he nervously picked up orange paint with the brush. "Never would I thought Fred Weasley would be nervous to paint something." She laughs.

Huffing a laugh, he says, "I don't want to mess it up too bad!" Y/n laughs again, placing her hand on his shoulder for comfort.

"Don't worry! Seriously!" Fred slightly smiles as he feels her hand on him. She watches as he paints himself under one of the trees, it honestly looked like a crazy 5 year old painted it. But she didn't mind, she thought it looked special, no other professional painting has a messy painting of Fred in it.

"Done." He says, turning his head up to Y/n. Y/n looks down from the painting, meeting his eyes. Laughing as he smiles, he says, "What? Scared I'm going to steal your talent, Y/n?"

"Terrified!" Y/n chuckles, looking back at the painting. "You should paint me now," She suggests, not really wanting the moment to end. Fred nods, not wanting the moment to end either, the feeling of her hand still on his shoulder felt special. He then turns back and starts painting Y/n.

He starts drawing the body, making her the same size as him. "So I'm the same height as you?" Y/n teases.

"I never said I was good with proportions." Fred smiles. Once he finished he said, "What a beautiful girl!"

"I can't tell if that even is a girl!" Y/n laughs, making Fred look up at her with a playful frown.

"Sorry I'm not as talented at art as you are!" He exclaims.

"You'll get there," Y/n pats his shoulder, then removed her hand from him.

Hiding his disappointment of her removing her hand, he asks, "Do you have other paintings you've done?" Y/n nods, walking over to a wardrobe in the room. As she opens it, many finished art works, unfinished paintings, and empty canvases were revealed. "Wow, and they let you keep everything in here?" Fred asks as he picks up one of the paintings.

"Yeah, one of the Professors let me use this classroom. Said to just be prepared to pack up in case the room was needed."

Fred nods, observing the art works. He then stopped, turning to her with a serious face. "You really are talented, Y/n."

Y/n studies his face, seeing he really means what he says. "Thank you, Fred." She smiles. Yeah, she's used to a few people telling her she is good at art, but it was different coming from Fred.

Suddenly, Fred's eyes widen. "Shit," He mutters, "I have to get to Quidditch practice!" He places the art back where he picked them up from. "So you're in this classroom everyday after classes?" He asks, walking towards the door.

"Yeah," Y/n calls out.

Fred turns around before he exits the room, he nods and makes a mental note so he can find you after school. "Goodbye, Y/n."

"Goodbye, Fred." She smiles, watching him leave.

~~~~

The next day, Y/n and Fred weren't able to talk in classes, there was never an opportunity to. So Y/n is sitting in the same empty classroom, sitting in the same stool, staring at an empty canvas. She tapped her fingers against her forehead as she tried thinking of what to draw.

She then turns her head as she hears the doors open, the same tall twin walked into the room with a smile on his face. "How did I know I would find you here?" He asks, walking over to Y/n.

"I wonder," She jokes.

"So, what will be the next art piece?" He asks, stopping next to her.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." She sighs, looking back at the canvas.

"How about this," He starts, "You paint me and I'll paint you. I'll actually try this time, I promise."

Looking back up at him, she smiles. "Okay." She gets up, grabbing another canvas for him. They get situated, both facing each other and unable to see each others work.

As they worked, they got to know each other more. Fred did most of the talking, but she didn't mind, she liked listening to him ramble about little things. She got to know what he was planning on doing outside of Hogwarts, start a joke shop with his brother.

"I better get a discount in this store." Y/n jokes, adding details to the painting.

"Bold of you to assume you are allowed to even enter my store!" Fred says, looking up at the girl to see how her hair lays.

"Excuse me!" Y/n exclaims, looking up at him with her mouth opened in a dramatic way.

"I'm only kidding!" He says, looking back down and adding strokes of hair to the art. "You're allowed in there at least once,"

Y/n scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes at him. She enjoyed the playful banter, it was more fun with Fred than most of the people at Hogwarts. "Are you almost done?" She asks, finishing the painting.

"Hmm," He says, looking back up at her, staring for a bit too long, then looking down. Y/n noticed the lingering look, hiding her smile as she catches him slightly blushing. "Uh- yeah I'm done." She fully smiles, laughing lightly. "What?" Fred asks, looking up at her.

"Nothing." Y/n says, ready to show him the painting. "Let me see yours first.

Fred nods, pausing dramatically. He then quickly turns it around, revealing an okay painting of her. It was much better then the previous day, more detailed. "Wow, she's pretty," She jokes, reaching out for the painting.

"I know." He mutters, watching as she studies his work. He smiles seeing her grin. She then places the painting down, picking up the painting of him, showing him. His face brightens up even more seeing him as a painting. "That's how you see me? I'm surprised you're not in love with me. What a handsome lad!"

Y/n laughs, handing him the painting, then picking the art of her back up. "You might really steal my talent, Fred!" Y/n jokes. "I might have to hang this in my room!"

"You better! I spent my precious time on that!" Fred exclaims. Smiling, Y/n looks around the room, noticing it is now dark outside. Fred notices too, then looks back at Y/n. "Hope I didn't keep you here," Fred says, feeling a bit bad for using up so much of her time.

"You didn't, I enjoyed our time together." She smiles, getting up. "We better get back before it's past curfew." Fred nods, getting up as well. They both had each other's art in their hands as they walked to the common room, chatting about random things.

"Why do you spend breakfast alone?" Fred randomly asks. Y/n looks at him confused, wondering when he noticed this. "Again, you really think I don't notice you, Y/n?"

"No, you are always so busy with everyone." Y/n says, still looking at him as they continue to walk.

"I'm never busy for you," He says with a playful tone, smiling down at her. Y/n feels her heart beat quicken a bit, the corners of her mouth lifting as she looks ahead of her.

"To answer your question, I guess no one invites me to sit with them, so I don't want to intrude. I don't really mind it."

"You can sit with me, you know? I'm sure- no, I know George would love to get to know you." Looking back up at him, she smiles.

"Okay, I'll sit with you tomorrow then."

"Good," Fred grins, noticing they arrived at the fat lady painting. They enter the almost empty common room then walk up the stairs together. "Good night, Y/n, see you at breakfast." Fred says, watching Y/n turn to him.

"Good night, Fred." Y/n says, turning back around and entering the girls section of the dorms.

The End

A/n: I might add more onto this, I'm not sure though, but I really like this! I think it's so cute. Thank you all for the support I have been getting! I love you all so much!!

[natsdraws7]

Young Ron and Hermione 🧡🤎

[biggrimace]

A Wedding | Fred Weasley

Summary: It is the day of Fleur and Bill's wedding, and you can't help but imagine your own wedding day, feeling impatient for it to come. Unbeknownst to you, Fred feels the same way.

Warnings: Nothing really, just really sweet and fluffy

Word Count: ~1441

—

It was a perfect day for a wedding. The sun was bright, the sky was clear, and the Weasley house was buzzing with excitement for the later events of the day. Although the house was filled with chaos, an underlying calm could be felt, as if all was forgotten about the coming war and recent losses. It was as if time had stopped, and joy had filled the world once more. You stood in the kitchen watching the men raise the tent where the wedding would be held on the lawn, smiling at the back of the man you loved who was laughing and joking with his family. You twirled the newly acquired piece of gold that wrapped around your finger, a gorgeous Dutch marquise diamond sitting in the Center. Thoughts of your own coming nuptials overtook your mind, a mix of excitement and anticipation clouding your thoughts as you watched Fred set up for the wedding.

Yn?- oh good, there you are.

You turned to the sweet shrill of Molly Weasley's voice entering the kitchen accompanied by her hurried steps.

Have you seen Fleur's bouquet? She said she asked you to fetch it?

Molly asked with a hint of frustrated anxiety. You gasped softly and turned back to the window you were daydreaming out of only moments ago. There, in a simple vase, sat the beautiful bouquet of lilies and roses, which had been enchanted with the blue butterflies of the Veela witches fluttering around it.

Oh, Merlin. I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley, I must’ve gotten distracted.

Your response was scattered as you quickly grabbed the bouquet. You hurried past Molly, who sighed, relieved, and up the stairs to Bill's old room to deliver the flowers. The sight of Fleur was breathtaking; you and her were quick to form a bond when Bill introduced her to the family. One that comes from the shared experience of unintentional harsh judgement from the Weasley matriarch.

You’re stunning Fleur…

You swooned as you entered the room and handed her the flowers. She smiled brightly, relief also showing in her eyes from finally having her bouquet.

Thank you, Yn. You look beautiful as well.

Both of your eyes shone with tears as you smiled and pulled each other into a gentle hug.

Are you ready?

You pulled back, holding onto her hand and shaking it with a tight, excited squeeze. Her nod was quick but there was a moment of hesitation that did not go unnoticed by you. You tilted your head and cocked your brow with a silent question.

It’s nothing… just… what if he suddenly changes his mind? You, more than anyone, know how Mrs Weasley feels about our marriage.

She said, wiping a tear from under her eye and turning her gaze to her bouquet.

The sharp sound of a tsk escaped your lips, and you rolled your eyes.

He would never. He loves you, Fleur, no matter what his mother thinks. I think he made that pretty clear.

A laugh erupted from you both at the memory of the less-than-perfect engagement announcement that took place a few months ago. Which resulted in quite the argument between her fiancé and his mother prompting you to ask Fred and George for some distraction to break it up. Long story short, Molly had become so angry with the twins for their prank that her son’s engagement was long forgotten. Your laughs died down, and a beat of silence filled the air as you smiled at one another.

He loves you, Fleur… you’re getting married today!

An excited squeal leaks from your throat, and Fleur joins in.

Thank you, yn.

You hug each other once more before a knock is heard at the door. You call for the person to come in, separating from Fleur and watching as Hermione peaks inside.

It’s time.

She calls cheerily. You and Fleur give one last glance to each other before heading down the stairs, her first and you following behind, being careful of the dress train that is bundled in your hands to ensure she doesn’t fall.

—

You sat comfortably beside Fred during the ceremony. Your legs were crossed toward him, and his hand rested on your thigh. Your arm rested looped with his, and a gentle smile lay on both of your lips. Fred had been thinking about you all day. Preparing for this wedding had only fueled his desire to be married to you. He knew from the first day he met you that he loved you, and although some thought you got engaged too young, he just did not want to live his life without you as his wife any longer. The coming war was another reason for the prompt engagement. The thought of losing you terrified him. Not only that, but the thought of you losing him without knowing just how much he loved you broke his heart. You agreed to marry after Bill and Fleur, but as he sat there, watching his brother and Fleur smiling at each other at the altar, a wicked idea crossed his mind. He turned to you, smiling with adoration at your glowing appearance and gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. Your attention was successfully drawn from the altar to him, and you met his eyes just as the minister announced it was time for the couple to exchange vows.

Please repeat after me...

The minister instructed Bill. Fred just continued to stare into your eyes as the minister spoke the vows for the groom to repeat. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the extended stare you were receiving from him. You could faintly hear the priest in the background, then just as Bill began to speak, Fred gently whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

I, Fred Weasley...

He started after gently clearing his throat, his eyes shining with mischievous happiness. You only continued to stare up in confusion at him.

Take you, yn ln, to be my wife...

Realization washed over you at what he was doing. He was marrying you. It may not be your wedding or an official ceremony, but at this moment, you and Fred were getting married. Your eyes began to mist, and your expression shifted from confusion to love. The voices of Bill and the minister suddenly became muffled as all you could focus on was Fred's gentle voice.

To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.

He finished, his whispered voice cracking and a broad beaming smile spread on his face. You took a moment to compose yourself, gently wiping a fallen tear from your cheek, then met his eyes again as you heard Fleur begin to speak.

I, yn ln...

Fred began to tear up now, squeezing your leg even tighter, shifting in his seat slightly so that his full attention was on you as he fought to hold back tears.

Take you, Fred Weasley, to be my husband... To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.

You finished smiling wide. A stray tear escaped Fred's eye as he looked at you, his wife. The love he felt was indescribable, and the happiness was overwhelming. You matched his smile, squeezing his bicep affectionately.

Really?

He asked, making you chuckle softly. This man couldn't believe that this was happening, that he got so lucky.

Yes, Really.

You reassured him.

By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!

The minister proudly proclaimed. Cheers from the wedding guests erupted throughout the tent, but you and Free paid no mind to it, wrapped too tightly into your own little world.

You may now kiss your bride!

The crowd stood as the Bill dripped Fleur into a loving kiss. You and Fred remained seated, and Fred was quick to react to those words, placing one of his hands on the back of your head and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Your lips moved in sync as the crowd around you cheered and celebrated, the two of you going completely unnoticed. After a long beat, Fred pulled away, staying close and looking deep into your eyes with the goofiest love-sicken smile. You were sure that yours matched.

I love you, Mrs. Weasley.

He declared quietly, in keeping with the private moment you just shared.

I love you too, Mr. Weasley.

You responded with a tear-filled giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. The two of you relishing in each other as man and wife.

—

For more fics: biggrimace

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

I will die on the hill of George Weasley loving a partner with a bit of a temper

Like yes he will 100% protect you with his life but also if you can fight?? he will step aside and cheer you on and heckle the poor fool youre beating the ass of

Youre yelling up at some asshole upperclassman who had the audacity to tell you to watch where youre going in the hallway?? standing behind you as backup but mentally kicking his lil feet

You come to him fuming with clenched fists and asking for help on a revenge prank?? hes falling 10x more in love IMMEDIATELY

and he knows he can take care of himself just fine! him and Fred are perfectly capable at defending themselves! but if you stand up for him or his family in any capacity?? if you punch some blood-purist in the nose after they tried shit talking his "blood traitor" family in front of you?? you might as well just get married right then and there

[ambitiouspotions]

ABOVE | FRED WEASLEY | ONESHOT

summary - fred weasley watches over you after his death

word count — 1.5k

warnings — an angsty mess

author’s note — i wrote this when i ate a gummy don’t judge me

fred gideon weasley’s out-of-body experience began after an unusual conversation in purgatory. he begged the spectral desk clerk to send him back to earth to see you. though the desk clerk was unable to reverse his untimely death, they allowed him to roam the earth unnoticed. he was a teacher. he stared as his entire ginger-headed family gathered around him in the great hall to mourn him. they all put their head against his chest and took turns crying. all within a matter of minutes they would go from crying to screaming, but when you saw him, it hurt.

he had promised that he would be okay, but now even his spirit had a guilty conscience. he could still remember the last kiss you shared before you were split apart in the battle. now he was watching you mourn, disbelief riddling your face.

fred tried to compensate you for the exasperated scream you let out the moment you saw him lying lifeless on the table. he wrapped you in a tight hug, but you didn’t react by falling into his arms like you normally did. you went through his chest and landed on the soulless body on the table. maybe that was the reason you cried - because you didn’t feel his soul present in his body. he stayed sitting with you until they were forced to move his body so his family could have a proper burial.

the days leading up to the funeral he was distant. just outside of his old apartment, watching into the window as you fixated on the street lamps on diagon alley. though he was there when his body was laid in the grave on a rainy day. your tears were easily concealed because the rain kept hitting your face. he tried to wipe your tears with his thumbs, but they kept falling. he watched you hold his mother, who was falling apart, as they lowered his mortal body into the open earth.

his life should’ve been celebrated with a fireworks display and an annoying marching band that blocked the streets for hours, but instead, he was watching black-robed wizards and witches shed more tears and agony now that he was truly gone. he didn't have the funeral he would've wanted because he expected to live forever. he had the armor of innocence and youth on his side, but his confidence soared too high. death stopped for no one, even for those who caused endless smiles and fits of laughter.

the day you went back to his apartment he came inside. george was not doing well. you weren’t crying anymore, but your face had enough pain contouring your normal features. well, you weren’t crying in front of anyone else. the moment you closed the door to his bedroom you collapsed into his unmade bed. you tried to take in his scent, but it wasn’t close enough to the real experience of being bundled into his chest for comfort. you were begging to hear “get on your side,” but it never came. you wanted him to complain one more time about hogging the quilt, but the room was silent aside from your sniffling.

fred tried to comfort you, but it went unnoticed. he was rubbing your back and running his fingers through your hair. he wanted you to know he was okay, but you didn’t feel him. he watched you cry for hours until you were finally asleep. the worst part of this purgatory was not being able to comfort you when you needed it most. he wanted to watch you grow past his death, but that was not going to happen in a few days. he knew he would have to stomach the pain and grief he was causing you and continue to watch over you.

a month later, you sat on the sofa at the burrow, remembering the summers you spent with him. the day molly found you laid across each other, sunburnt to hell, after spending hours at the lake and ignoring her cry for you both to wear sun cream. the time you sat with him, trying to act inconspicuous after you had spent the entire night roaming the fields with him for a romantic time that wouldn’t be interrupted.

you spent hours looking through molly’s photo albums for a sense of peace, but it only made your mind pained again. fred’s eyes kept returning to the photo of him dancing with you at bill and fleur’s wedding. the quick motion of the photo showed how happy he was in the moment. it was something so miniscule, but so satisfying. he could feel love radiation from the picture even though he was not on the same plane of existence any longer. your head was hidden in his shoulder as you saw the photographer coming. he could still hear his laugh as he tried to spin you to look at the camera. your face was so flushed, and your hands were gripping his suit tightly to stay close.

the christmas holidays still went on without him, but molly’s normal knitted gift was left upon his gravestone. he didn’t want you to spend christmas at his grave, but you did. you talked out loud for ages. you popped a tube of confetti as you announced your new job. he was hoping you’d continue to move on. it started with less crying, and then applying yourself more. you just needed a win. you deserved a new job, a new start.

he still lay with you every night. he couldn’t bear to let you sleep alone because he knew that was when your mind wandered the most. he saw you downing various supplements to get a deeper sleep, but he still saw you wake with a racing heart and panic because you had to relive your worst nightmare; seeing his dead body again.

as time passed you would randomly stop in the hallway and look straight at him. at times he thought you could see him, but he knew it wasn’t the case when you wouldn’t rush to him. you would swallow and take a deep breath to contain yourself. he didn’t know what weird sensation came over you, but he hoped that whenever it happened it was making it easier for you.

the days seemed to fade together as fred watched you, but that was because you had the same routine. you had the same routine so your mind wouldn’t wander away. you had to keep your composure at work and when you visited his family.

he was happy for you the day you agreed to get dinner with your coworkers. you diverted from your schedule to spend time with someone other than a weasley. he enjoyed seeing you dressed up for the high-end restaurant. he enjoyed seeing you give a genuine smile, one where your cheeks reddened and your eyes slightly squinted.

you were doing so much better. you weren’t so hard on yourself. you appreciated the little things. you petted the stray cat on the street that always seemed to get under your feet when you were in a hurry. until the anniversary of fred’s death.

you visited his grave very early in the morning so you wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone else and were sadly mistaken in thinking that things had gotten any better. you cursed your life and wished fred was in your place because he was so much stronger. he put a hand on your shoulder as your hands rested flat on the ground in the center of his burial plot. your hands dug into the earth that was below your fingertips, not caring that the dirt was lining the innards of your fingernails. you just wanted him back.

he saw you go backward and forwards. grief, guilt, anger, to nothing at all. dear merlin. nothing was the worst to witness because even with the anger he could see the scared person you were hiding under your skin. nothing was dull and lifeless. his spirit had more life than your version of nothing. he would sit with you, begging you to get up, but you never did. you never got up until you were ready.

on the days you finally pulled yourself together he would celebrate. his smile never fades on those days. he was with you every step.

“that’s my girl.” he’d say as you exited the apartment. you couldn’t hear him, but it made him feel better when he said it.

he didn’t follow you forever, only on those days that seemed to drag, and the restless nights. he knew you would eventually wake one morning and not think of him immediately. he waited for that day, longing for the moment he could trust that you were going to be okay on your own. though all along you were doing it alone. it was years before fred only admired you from above. though the solace of knowing he could return to your side if you needed him was comforting.

eventually the need to return to your side faded because you moved forward. someone else was by your side, and the moment you missed fred your new suitor was next to you at his gravestone. you didn’t need a paranormal hand to rub your back anymore. you didn’t need a ghostly body to lay with at night, and fred could see it. you may not always be okay, but you were okay enough not to need his spirit any longer.

[darkacademicvibes]

You Owe Me

Fred Weasley x Fem!Lancaster!Gryffindor!Reader

Enemies to lovers, Fake dating

It's the fourth time in two weeks, and it's only Tuesday.

Adrien Pucey settles into the seat beside you, the same flirty smile on his face as his last three attempts at talking to you, and it takes everything in you to keep your glare of annoyance to yourself as you send Hermione at the gryffindor table your best 'can-we-please-have-a-tutor-session-right-at-this-second-i-need-your-help' stare, which she doesn't understand, of course, since you're usually so against studying.

"Hey gorgeous" you sigh heavily, barely glancing at him. "What do you want, Pucey" you mutter, hoping to merlin he doesn't make some revolting innuendo of some sort, you're trying to eat lunch for heavens sake.

"I want you to go out with me this weekend" he shrugs, and you turn to him, placing down your fork. "Look, Pucey, there's a nice way to say this, but I'm not going to be nice anymore. Leave me the fuck alone, I'm not interested in dating, sleeping with, or, talking to you" you state clearly, hoping it was exactly what he needed to leave you alone.

"Tell me one good reason why"

Hope is dead. There is no hope. Hopeless, that is his word, you will never say hopeless without thinking of this exact moment ever again.

"I have a boyfriend" the words practically tumble out of your mouth, and he immediately seems confused. Me too, pucey, me too. You think to yourself, because genuinely, what the fuck? No, you don't. Not that he needed to know that, because he was already standing up. "Right... uh, who, exactly?" He asks, and you panic.

"Look, we're trying to keep it to ourselves right now, yknow? We don't want anyone in our business, so if you could kind of... keep it quiet, that would be really helpful" you ramble, shit- literally - because at this point you are talking out of your arse. None of this is true, obviously, but if it gets him to leave you the fuck alone, then great, now it is. It's a lie, but it's true. In his mind, at least.

He pauses, "right." He mumbles, turning on his heel and leaving as you turn back to your meal, feeling particularly distraught.

"Y/n? It's time for our session-" Hermione Granger pauses, she's never seen you move so quickly, shoving bacon into your mouth and grabbing an apple turnover as you shove your things into your bag, standing up and grabbing her wrist with your free hand as you tug her along to the library.

What the hell happened since their last session? Y/n Lancaster has never once been the one most ready for their study session, it was always Hermione spending the better part of their scheduled two hours bribing her to actually open her books.

"I'm fucked" you state with a mortified groan the moment you make it to your usual table in the library, apple turnover in hand until you place it onto a loose piece of parchment, sending a suspicious glare to the wood of the library table. Who knew what tables couples had shagged on top of after sneaking in after hours for a bit of unsanctioned fun.

Hermione frowns, puzzled as she sits beside you, watching you actually open your textbooks. "What? What happened?" she asks, hurrying to tug her own books from her bag.

"Okay, you know how i've been bitching about Pucey asking me out and being all gross and stuff? Well he asked me out again, and I said no - obviously, like, gag - but he asked me why and I totally minblanked so I told him I have a secret boyfriend" you ramble, stressed at the situation you've gone and caused for yourself, because now you actually had to ask someone to pretend to be in a badly hidden 'relationship' with you to keep him off your back. Double gag.

She smiles, "oh, you do? congrats-"

"Hermione Jean Granger, you adorable, sweet, merlins favourite little gryffindor-"

"We're the same age-"

"-I am so greatful that you think I have such low standards and such high patience to date a boy of all things-"

"And we're both gryffindors."

"-But I am so single it borderlines on painful."

She's silent for a long moment, so long, you aren't sure if she understood you, and then, painfully slow, she begins to smile. And then a laugh bubbles out of her as you sulk, biting into the sweet apple turnover.

It takes a long few minues for her to calm enough to be able to look at you without laughing again.

"So now what?" she muses "You can't exactly keep lying and really expect to get away with it" she points out, and you fall silent, sending her a sheepish smile as she pauses, eyeing you warily.

"Y/n Gréine Lancaster, tell me you are not thinking about-"

You nod quickly, embrrassed.

"Y/n! That's ridiculous" she scolds quietly, and you groan.

"Trust me, I know... but I have to, I just want Pucey to leave me alone. He's been so convinced that i've just been playing hard to get- I can't take it anymore, 'mione, you even had to start tutoring me because i've been taking the long ways to class to avoid him in the halls" you insist.

She sighs, her gaze softening.

"I know someone you can ask, I'll talk to him" she promises softly. "He needs a date to christmas this year to keep his mother off his back anyway... a win-win situation is okay... right?" she asks softly, gently grabbing your hand. You nod softly.

"Of course, 'mione, thank you"

"Always, Y/n. Now.. herbology-"

"Oh god, must we?"

[mssorceressupreme]

Your Warmth | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: gryffindor quidditch team throws a celebratory party at the lake after their win, and you decide to go though you were not one for parties. someone then pulls a prank on you (not fred), throwing you in the lake, not knowing you can’t swim.

Warnings: shy!reader, drowning, reader can’t swim, slight anxiety, fluffy towards the end, Fred's a sweetheart here <3

———

The crisp autumn evening air whispered through the open windows of the Gryffindor common room. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls as Ginny and Hermione practically bounced in front of you, eyes wide with excitement.

“Come on, just for a little while!” Ginny urged, her hands gripping your arms, pulling you toward the door. “You’ve been hiding out in here with your books for days! Gryffindor won, you have to come celebrate!”

You frowned, clutching your book tightly to your chest, hesitating. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, it was just… crowds, noise, all those people—too much. You liked the quiet, the solitude, the comforting silence of the common room and the feel of pages turning in your hands.

The idea of leaving it all behind to go to the lake where everyone was partying felt like stepping out of your comfort zone, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

Hermione's voice cut through your thoughts, gentle but persistent. “It’ll be fun, you know. You don’t have to talk to everyone, but you can be there with us. It'll be good for you.” She flashed that soft, reassuring smile of hers, the one that always made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

You looked between the two of them, and in the end, their enthusiasm was too much to resist. “Alright,” you muttered, resigning yourself to their relentless encouragement. "But just for a little while."

Ginny grinned, throwing her arms around you in excitement. "That's the spirit! We’ll help you get ready."

They pulled you upstairs to change, their infectious energy filling the room as they found an outfit that suited you perfectly. Hermione worked on your hair, braiding it with practiced ease while Ginny picked out a soft sweater, something comfortable but still fitting for the occasion.

You stood there, feeling awkward but somehow right at the same time, allowing yourself to be swept up in the moment. You hadn’t even realised how much you needed this until now.

With a deep breath, you followed them down the stairs, your heart picking up its pace as you neared the lake. The chatter and laughter from the lake became louder, mixed with the occasional splash of water. You could feel your nerves gnawing at you, but you took each step with Ginny and Hermione by your side.

When you finally reached the party, the sight of everyone laughing, swimming, and dancing around the fire made your stomach do somersaults.

There were Gryffindors everywhere, but the mix of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and even a few Slytherins made it feel like you were walking into something chaotic. But it was him that you noticed first.

Fred.

He stood with his teammates, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face, as he exchanged a joke with Ron. His red hair was slightly messy from the wind, and his hazel eyes sparkled with the same energy that made your stomach flip every time he was around.

You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting to stare too long, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when you saw him laughing with his friends.

The warmth of his smile made everything feel brighter, and for a brief moment, you let yourself imagine that maybe, just maybe, he might notice you—someone who was always in the background, too quiet, too shy, too invisible.

You quickly looked away, not daring to let him catch you staring.

But Fred did notice.

As if on cue, Fred’s eyes flicked in your direction. His gaze traveled down your body and back up to meet your eyes. For a split second, time stopped, and you quickly looked away, cheeks flushing hot.

He didn’t even say anything, just went back to his conversation, but you felt the lingering heat of his attention like a whisper against your skin. You were so used to staying in the background, a quiet observer, never the centre of attention. The thought that Fred might actually see you felt surreal.

"Stop being so shy," Ginny teased, nudging you gently. "Go talk to him if you want."

You flushed, but didn’t answer. Instead, you clung to Hermione’s side as the three of you mingled, laughing with others but always staying in the background. You stayed close to them, watching as some people danced by the water and others swam, their voices blending with the evening air.

You excused yourself after a while to grab a drink from the punch table, your nerves creeping back up. But before you could even reach the cup, Lee Jordan appeared beside you, fresh from the lake with his wet hair and a wide grin on his face.

"Woah!" Lee laughed, his eyes bright. "Put your books down for once, yeah?"

You smiled awkwardly, pausing from grabbing a cup. "Yeah, decided to get a drink in the open air."

Lee’s grin widened as he noticed the hesitation in your eyes. "Come on, join us! The water’s amazing. Just relax and have some fun."

You bit your lip, glancing nervously at the water. "I’m fine, thank you."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Don’t be shy. Come on! It’ll cool you off." He stepped closer, his energy infectious but overwhelming. "It’s nice out here, you’re just standing by the punch the whole time!"

You shook your head, trying to retreat slightly, but Lee wasn’t taking no for an answer.

"Go on! The water’s perfect, you’ll enjoy it!" He laughed again, completely unaware of how out of place you felt.

"I really don’t—"

Before you could finish, Lee had picked you up without warning, hoisting you over his shoulder like it was nothing.

You shrieked, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Lee, no! Put me down!” You slapped his back lightly, trying to wiggle free, but he held onto you with ease, his grip too strong for you to escape.

The crowd around you burst into laughter, thinking it was just some fun little game and that the two of you were sharing a moment of banter.

You could hear them cheering, but your pulse was racing in a panic. The water loomed ahead, and you couldn’t shake the fear rising in your chest.

But it was too late. Before you could protest again, Lee tossed you into the water with a loud splash.

The world became a blur.

Cold water flooded over you, and you sank beneath the surface. Panic gripped you instantly. Your body went into a wild frenzy, arms flailing, legs kicking.

You tried to force yourself back to the surface, gasping for air, but it was like the water was swallowing you whole, holding you under. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t see.

You were drowning.

Fred’s gaze had never left you. The moment Lee tossed you in, Fred’s eyes locked onto the water, his body stiff with concern. His friends were still laughing, unaware of the danger, but Fred saw it—saw the way you struggled, your head bobbing beneath the surface, unable to rise.

The laughter stopped in his chest, and without a moment’s hesitation, he shoved his drink into Ron’s hands, his face hardening.

Without even looking back, he sprinted and dove into the lake, cutting through the water with swift, powerful strokes.

He swam down, his heart hammering in his chest as he spotted you, desperately thrashing, your face pale with fear. His hand reached out, pulling you up from the depths, and he didn’t let go.

Fred’s arms wrapped around you like a lifeline, and before you even knew what was happening, he was carrying you out of the water.

The world came back into focus, the laughter replaced by silence as the others watched in stunned silence.

Fred was with you in an instant, his hands gently carrying you as he guided you back to the shore.

His shot Lee a death glare, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his full attention to you. His jaw clenched, eyes scanning your trembling form.

Without a word, Fred wrapped you in his arms, his warmth and strength a stark contrast to the cold, shaking fear still in your bones.

You pressed your face into his chest, the relief washing over you, the fear ebbing as his body heat seeped into you.

He carried you all the way back to the common room, not caring that his clothes were soaked through nor did he care about the party. He just needed to get you dry.

Once inside, he moved quickly, pulling his hoodie from the back of a chair and wrapping it around your shoulders. The soft fabric of his shirt still clung to his skin, but he didn’t care. He just wanted you to be okay.

He sat beside you on the couch, watching as you trembled. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you…"

The two of you shared a moment of silence, Fred scanning your body for any injuries.

Feeling like you could trust him, you decided to share a secret of yours, "When I was younger, my family went on a camping trip. The place was too beautiful not to explore, so I ran off on my own, exploring every inch of the forrest I could..."

He listened intensely, leaning in, his head tilting as you told your story.

"I came across a lake with a dock and ran across it without hesitation...silly of me though, I should've checked my laces before sprinting without a thought..."

"A bit silly of you, yeah." He teased, and you chuckled lightly.

"Shove off." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Let me guess, you fell in?" His voice was now soft, empathetic, his eyes glistened with concern.

You nodded, tearing up slightly as you recalled this traumatic moment. "Felt like forever. Felt like I was being dragged down deeper and deeper. I yelled for help but only muffled sounds came out...thought I was going to die. Never entered a lake since."

Fred’s hand brushed over your hand gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve stopped Lee, he just gets carried away sometimes, doing things without thinking, that git. I won’t let anything happen to you again..”

You stayed still for a moment, his voice a comfort as it settled over you. But then a small voice inside you urged you to speak, to break the silence that had fallen between the two of you. You lifted your head slightly, looking up at Fred, his face inches away from yours.

“Why… why did you help me?” you asked quietly, your words almost a breathless whisper. "I mean, you didn’t have to, you could’ve just let Lee—"

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed slightly as he interrupted, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I couldn’t just leave you there. You looked terrified. I’m not gonna stand around and watch someone I care about struggle. Not like that.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate it—you did, more than you could say—but the fact that he cared, that he’d seen you struggling and rushed to help without a second thought, made your chest tighten with excitement.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “I… I’m glad you did, though,” you said, the words feeling vulnerable, too open, but you couldn’t take them back now. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t. So… thank you.”

Fred smiled softly, his eyes lighting up with a mix of relief and something you couldn’t place. “No problem,” he said quietly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

There was a pause, a comfortable kind of quiet between the two of you. Fred shifted slightly, looking down at you with an almost nervous energy that seemed at odds with his usual confident demeanor. “You, uh, you don’t have to stay on the couch,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, as if the question made him uneasy. “I mean, you could… you could rest here if you want.” He patted his lap.

You blinked up at him in surprise, and for a second, you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right. “Rest there?” you echoed, your voice hesitant.

“Yeah,” he said, the corners of his mouth curling up in a shy grin. “If you want to. I don’t mind. You look like you could use a little rest after… all that.”

You swallowed hard, the idea of being so close to him both thrilling and intimidating. “I… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you replied, voice a little shaky despite your best efforts to sound calm.

Fred tilted his head, the concern and warmth in his gaze making your heart flutter a little. “You won’t. I promise. I’m just making sure you’re alright. Besides,” he added with a slight smirk, “I am pretty comfortable, so I wouldn’t mind.”

A small laugh escaped you, the tension between you both finally starting to ease. “I guess it’s only fair, then,” you said, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you slowly let yourself relax against him, laying your head in his lap, in his hoodie.

You felt like you were about to explode, from barely talking to Fred to resting on his lap, it all felt surreal.

Fred shifted so you were sitting more comfortably. “I’ll stay right here, alright? You’re safe with me.”

You hesitated for a moment, the vulnerability of the situation sinking in, but then, surprisingly, you felt a sense of trust that you hadn’t expected. Maybe it was the way he had been so kind, so protective without question.

His warmth and the steady beat of his heart made you feel like you were in a cocoon, safe and protected.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the quiet between you now comfortable, almost soothing. Fred absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering for a second longer than necessary.

“You’re alright now,” he murmured again, his voice soft, like he was reassuring himself as much as you.

You nodded, your eyes closing as the tension of the past few minutes started to fade away. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet but content. “I think I’m gonna be okay.”

You closed your eyes, exhaustion pulling at you. Slowly, the warmth of Fred’s presence washed you into a wave of calm. You drifted to sleep, your head resting in his lap, his fingers softly stroking your hair.

Fred watched you, his heart swelling with something he couldn’t quite put into words. He could’ve stayed there forever, his hand resting gently on your head, keeping you safe.

And in that moment, he couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful girl he had seen, and that he would never let anything harm you again.

[rainydayathogwarts]

before you go - fred weasley

summary: fred weasley has relentlessly asked you out for years, but you've never given the younger boy a chance. not until sixth year, when he makes the compelling argument that if the date goes terribly, at least it'll be the last year you'll ever see him at hogwarts. wc: 3.4k+

Fred Weasley had been chasing you since your fourth year at Hogwarts. As a young teenage girl, you’d been absolutely horrified. Having a younger boy chasing after you had been a nightmare: your friends teased you about it and no matter how hard you tried brushing him off, he never relented. Over the next couple of years, you had learnt to accept Fred’s flirting, rolling your eyes and occasionally entertaining his conversations. Fred would smile, watching as you would finally walk away from him, catching up to your friends, sighing in awe as he observed your retreating form.

“Maybe if you stopped flirting and became genuine, she’d give you a shot.”

Would sassily throw Ginny as she pretended to do her homework, watching your exchange instead. Fred scoffed, rolling his eyes at her as he tried to mask his true feelings towards you. “I don’t know what you mean Ginny.”

But it was true: Fred was utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

He remembers the first time he saw you. It hadn’t even been his first day at Hogwarts. In fact, it was during the sorting ceremony, nervously strutting over to the Gryffindor table and catching your eye as you clapped uninterestingly, a comment of “Huh, twins.” Leaving your lips as you watched the younger twin walk onto the stage. That night, George complained about how much Fred spoke about brief eye contact, and from that moment, Fred knew he was screwed.

Contrary to popular belief, Fred wasn’t extremely confident when speaking to older students when he was a mere first year, sticking to the idea of becoming liked by students his own age before broadening his horizons. He had more brief encounters with you over the next two years, remembering the time he walked into the common room after a late detention, slumping onto a couch in exhaustion without awareness of who he’d joined. It was only when a soft question of “You okay?” was heard that he jolted upwards, instantly recognising your voice. Fred gulped, nodding eagerly, a blush blooming onto his cheeks. You’d laughed softly at the shy look on his face, patting an arm on his bicep before returning to your conversation.

After hearing that story more than a dozen times from his twin brother, George decided things had to change. And there was only one thing that could ensure Fred made a move on you; a dare. “I can’t do that.” Fred had instantly refused. George crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back with a raise of his eyebrows. “Is Mr. Fred Weasley refusing a dare?” Fred felt the blood drain from his face, and he quickly shook his head, mustering the courage for what he was going to do.

It happened the next day.

Three years of crushing on you, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and he was finally making his move.

Sure, your group of friends widely intimidated him, but he had to stick to the reputation he’d built of being a confident jokester. At breakfast, he marched right up to you, sitting down facing you, forcing himself not to be affected by the presence of your friends. “Hey Freddie!” You greeted, buttering a slice of toast. He replied with a call of your name. “You look absolutely beautiful today.” Although Fred was fully intending to continue his flirting, your immediate reaction threw him off. Your eyebrows instantly shot up, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips shyly. You ducked your head down, avoiding eye contact with him as you thanked him.

Fred cleared his throat, continuing “What do you say we go out together? On a date?” Fred never heard your answer, watching carefully as you slowly chewed your toast, pondering what to tell him. Your friend on your left hand side glanced towards you, deciding to save you from decision-making.

The gasp that escaped her lips was award-winning, and she cried “We’re about to be late to class!” but even as Fred watched her drag you away, he knew class started in another twenty minutes.

Well, at least you hadn’t rejected him.

Yet.

Because when he saw you that night in the common room, catching your eye from across the room, you shook your head at him, fully convinced that he had only been joking with you. However, now that Fred started, he couldn’t stop until you agreed. Besides, he liked the reaction you gave him, exactly the same every time. So the flirting continued: across the Great Hall as you entered, crossing each other in the hallway, leaving a class that he was entering.

Despite your feelings for the boy, you had built a strong dynamic. You were afraid that if you finally accepted his offer to on a date, he’d stop giving you attention. Afraid that your date would be disastrous and you would never speak again.

It was endless.

At least, until it finally came to an end.

But what could you say? Sixth Year Fred Weasley’s argument had been so convincing. “Come on, this is our last year together! Give me one chance before you go, and if the date sucks, so be it! But don’t let us miss out on an opportunity just because you’re… stubborn.”

Finally, you put your book down.

You’d been reading your book when Fred decided to come and resume his flirting, asking you out. You had quickly glanced his way before returning your gaze to the words on these pale pages. That was when his desperate words had stumbled out. “You want to go out with me that bad?” You questioned, unable to stop the smile from climbing onto your lips. Fred nodded, a hopeful look in his eyes as you swung your legs over the side of the couch to lay flat on the floor, properly sitting up.

“Okay then.” Fred’s eyes widened, and he stumbled to sit next to you on the couch, holding one of your hands between both of his. “Yeah?” He double checked, watching with a wide grin as you nodded, picking up your book and mumbling “Don’t mess it up Weasley.” Fred twisted his body to watch you walk away from him, calling out “Is Sunday good?” His only response was a thumbs up.

When you finally reached your dorm, you could only sit atop your duvet in silence, the realisation of what you had just agreed to dawning on you. You screamed in your pillow for a short while before recollecting yourself.

Did you believe that the Weasley twin really liked you? Yes. But did you think that the two of you would get along so well that it would satisfy the years of his building expectations? Well, not really. However, you were officially going out on Sunday, and you had to at least make an effort for the younger boy.

So when Sunday rolled around, you dressed yourself in your most appropriate date attire. You considered taking a jacket to wear over your little dress, however as your fingers grazed the warm material, decided against it. No, Fred would enjoy draping his jumper over your shoulders, the bold letter “F” claiming you as his while he smoothly tugged you closer to him, a glad smile on his face.

And you were right, pretending not to notice Fred’s wide grin as his arm settled around you, guiding you to the date spot he’d always dreamt of taking you to. You were surprised when Fred walked you past Zonko’s without looking back, offering sweetly to pop into Honeydukes together. You nodded eagerly, beelining straight towards your favourite candies and asking the taller boy if he’d ever tried them. At the shake of his head, you immediately grabbed another bag from the shelf, dragging him to the counter by the hand. Fred didn’t have the time to even take out his pouch of money before you were tossing a couple of sickles onto the counter and dragging him back out of the colourful shop. A grumble of disagreement bubbled in Fred’s chest, but you ignored it, cozying up in Fred’s side as he pulled you snugly against him.

Fred was nervous, you thought, noticing how unusually quiet he was, as though stopping himself from saying anything true to his personality that might put you off him.

“You know,” You started, hopeful to boost Fred’s confidence. “I’m really happy to be here Fred.” The boy’s face snapped towards you, a red flush adorning his cheeks. “Yeah?” You hummed “Mhm, I’m glad you gave me that final push.” “I’m happy you agreed.” He mumbled quietly.

“You know, I do really really like you. I was willing to try anything for you to finally go out with me.” You genuinely smiled, bumping your hip with Fred’s. “Well, let’s make it worth it, yeah?” You gasped softly when you felt a pair of lips on your forehead, kissing you softly. Heat climbed up your neck to land on your cheeks, and you raised an arm to rest on Fred’s back as he guided you into the forest behind the small village.

You joked to Fred about the suspicious location, but he only grinned at you, telling you to watch out as he stepped over a fallen branch, the path to your date spot imprinted in his mind. He dragged you deeper into the forest until the you could barely catch sight of the buildings in Hogsmeade. But it was worth it, because when you finally reached your date location, you couldn’t help the gasp that flew past your parted lips. “Didn’t know Hogsmeade had gems like this, did you?” You shook your head as Fred’s arm fell from around your body, instead slipping down your arm so he could slide his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers together. Your heart fluttered at the bold move, letting Fred tug you along towards the green grass.

The boy swung his backpack off his shoulders, only letting go of your hand at the very last possible second so that he could quickly empty the contents of his bag. He carefully laid out a picnic blanket on the grass — one he had charmed to keep you warm despite the remnants of winter still lingering in the air. He sat down, patting the spot next to him before extracting two sealed butterbeers from his bag a small camera.

“Thought this would be good to capture the moment. Show you in a couple decades that I was right about us. You know, when we’ll look back on this day.”

You raised your eyebrows at Fred, trying to act annoyed, but his playful smirk and the subtle blush on his cheeks only made the corner of your lips tug upwards into a smile.

You swallowed thickly, folding your legs on one side of you before shifting them to the other. Fred frowned slightly. He didn’t realise that you’d be uncomfortable sitting on the floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise-” But his quick thinking had already solved your confining situation, slipping his hands around your ankles to pull your legs across his lap. “Oh. Thank you.”

You removed Fred’s jumper from around your shoulders, but you missed the fleeting look of sadness that crossed his features. No, you didn’t notice it, because you were too busy trying to find the holes that would introduce the sleeves to the jumper, messily pulling it over your head. Fred grinned widely, reaching over to help you fit your head into the right hole. You huffed as your head emerged, wiping the hair away from your face.

“Sorry, it’s colder than I realised.” Fred shook his head at your apology, boldly placing a hand over yours. “Are you not cold?” Fred shrugged his shoulders, pulling a face and dismissing the question with his hand. “No, not really.”

“Shame. Otherwise I could help warm you up.” You saw the blood creep up Fred’s face and settle in his ears, and you tried suppressing the smile from your face. Fred cleared his throat, mumbling “Actually, it’s freezing.”

Laughing, you reached the hand Fred wasn’t holding upwards, brushing rogue strands of hair away from Fred’s face. His eyelashes fluttered weakly as your fingertips tore away from his face. “Well, we don’t want you getting hypothermic, do we?” Fred shook his head frantically before diving in closer to you and eagerly pressing his lips against yours. You gasped loudly, a hand freezing mid-air, as the ginger-haired boy kissed you.

Fred began pulling away, suddenly convinced he had completely ruined his chance with you, but just as his lips separated from yours, you were gripping his shirt and pulling him back onto you.

Fred whimpered quietly before both his hands were suddenly on your waist, his lips parting so your tongue could dip into his mouth. He was panting heavily when you broke the kiss, head immediately falling over your shoulder before tilting it, and pressing a couple of kisses onto your neck. Your fingers snaked into his hair, and you giggled as Fred declared “I’ve been waiting years for that.”

“Was that worth the years of waiting?” Fred hummed ‘yes’, lifting his head off your shoulder. He looked adorable to you, with his flushed cheeks and shy smile.

“Can I show you everything else I’ve been waiting for? Please?”

“Open me a butterbeer and you can do whatever you want to me, Weasley.” And Fred was jerking away from you, looking around for the butterbeers. He was quick to open the bottle, silently thanking whatever power that they were the twisty kind. He gave you the bottled drink, watching with eager eyes as you sipped it, humming in satisfaction. Then, he was instantly hooking his arms around your thighs and tugging you towards him. A loud gasp left your lips as your back hit the floor, and you carefully placed your butterbeer at arm's length, away from danger.

“Fred!”

“I’ll prove to you I’m worth more than just a pity date.” You gulped at his words, mumbling “I do like you, Fred.”

“But you only agreed to this out of pity. Don’t worry, you’re going to begging for more after this. We’ll be even.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you decided to argue with him nonetheless. “It’s this ego that made me reject you so many times. Someone needed to humble you.” Fred grinned, hovering over you, “I’m sure you’ll only be feeding into my ego after this, yeah?”

“You know what? Try your best.”

So he did. Fred was immediately pulling down your underwear, and laying down on his stomach so he could be levelled with your cunt. He brought his cold fingers to your pussy, and you immediately jumped at his touch. Fred grinned, his playful persona coming through as he trailed his fingers down to your clit, where he immediately started rubbing slowly. You propped yourself onto your elbows to look at him, reaching over to take a drink from your butterbeer.

Fred added pressure to your clit, watching happily when your hips bucked slightly and you choked out a moan, some of your drink dribbling down your chin. Finally, Fred averted his attention to your dripping cunt, bringing his lips down to press slow, teasing kisses down your slit. “Fred.” You whispered, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

If he wanted you crawling back into his bed, this was not the way to do it.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes joking, moving down to begin sucking harshly on your clit, causing you to jump, a loud cry escaping your lips. You slapped a hand over your mouth to silence yourself, suddenly aware that anyone could walk out and see you, despite being in an estranged area. Fred reached up to yank your hand away from your face, so you resorted to biting your lower lip.

Fred’s arm tightened around your thigh, pulling it to the side as he brought his free hand down to touch you. He ran his fingers up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before probing his fingers at your hole. He suddenly pushed them in, just as he stopped sucking on your clit, instead, laying his tongue flat against you and licking a bold strip up your cunt.

Fred suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, and you deflated, but quickly found yourself moaning again as his tongue pushed inside you, curling inwards as deep as possible. And just as quickly as he was there, he’s gone again, replacing his tongue with his fingers. “I’ll stop teasing, I promise.” He revealed, propping himself up on one arm and kneeling as he plunged his fingers into you, curling them just right that your thighs squeezed, closing shut around his hand.

With a shake of his head, Fred tutted at you, hooking and arm underneath your thigh and bringing it upwards until it hung over his shoulder. The new position allowed him a new type of access, and he was suddenly thrusting his fingers into you at a much faster pace, grinning over you as you shut your eyes and arched your back against the hard ground.

“Yeah, you like that?” Fred teased, turning his head to the side to press kisses down your leg until he’s at your inner thigh, sucking and running his teeth over your soft skin in between kisses.

“Fred, please!” Fred didn't understand what you were begging for until you brought a hand down to grip his collar, weakly attempting to pull him up towards you. He lowered your leg down to the floor so he could climb over you and press a kiss to your lips, one that you immediately deepened by forcing your tongue into his mouth. Fred broke away from the kiss too quickly for your liking, but he moved his kisses down your neck and jaw, until he was restricted by his own jumper you were wearing.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful falling apart on my fingers. Shit, wearing my jumper too.”

“Fred, mouth please!” You panted, a hand tangling in his hair, trying to push him down towards your cunt. But Fred didn't need to be told twice, because he was instantly returning to his previous position and closing his lips around your clit, beginning to suck on it relentlessly.

It didn't take thirty seconds for Fred to know you were about to cum, practically riding his face as he ate you out, long, veiny fingers pushing at the spongy spot inside you with ever harsh thrust. Fred shut his eyes, savouring the moment as he laid a hand over your abdomen. But soon after, he felt fingers lacing with his, and Fred couldn't help but moan at the realisation that you wanted to hold his hand as you came.

The vibrations up your cunt had you bucking your hips harshly, high-pitched moans falling from your lips as your body was overtaken over by a hot sort of pleasure, your orgasm causing your thighs to shake around Fred’s head.

His face stayed buried between your thighs, and he pulled his fingers out, moving his hand to grip your thighs, smearing some of your orgasm onto your skin while he lapped up at all the juices between your legs. His second hand stayed intertwined with yours, thumb caressing your skin.

Fred was barely satisfied when you tugged him upwards to desperately connect your lips together, eager to spend all day between your thighs, tasting you. You wrapped one arm around his neck, the other one hanging by your side, not letting go of his hand.

“That was,” You began as your lips parted, still touching.

“Amazing, right?” Fred finished for you, lifting his body off of yours to retrieve something off the blanket. Your eyes widened when you see the camera pointed towards you, Fred cupping your face with his free hand and snapping a photo of you, all spent, laying down on the floor of a park in your post-orgasm glow.

“That enough to get a second date?”

“Fred, that might have been enough to secure me for life.” You panted, accepting the help he offered for you to sit up. You reached for your butterbeer, purposefully ignoring the way he grinned, and made a face, mumbling. “It’s gone all flat.”

But luckily for you, the smitten boy in front of you opened the second butterbeer and offered it to you, taking the one from your hands for himself. You felt your face go hot.

If that orgasm didn’t secure you for life, that sweet gesture sure did.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-017, @boromoony

[lqveharrington]

hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[httpvomitello]

Hiii could you do a George x Reader?

Where she's Sirius 's daughter and his family doesn't trust her and stuff because she's still related to people like Bellatrix and Narcissa and George gets into a heated argument with them over it? Something like that please!

Hello, helloooooo! Hope you like it ~ ♡

Blood and Loyalty *⁠.⁠✧

Summary: Being Sirius Black’s daughter meant being judged for the blood that ran through your veins. Despite fighting alongside the Order, the Weasleys still struggled to trust you, haunted by your ties to the Black family name.

george weasley x f!slytherin reader

The Burrow had never felt less like home.

You sat at the long wooden table, feeling the heat of the fire against your back, but it did nothing to thaw the ice settling in your chest.

“She’s still a Black.”

Bill’s words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold, and you felt your breath hitch.

The weight of the room pressed down on you as every Weasley in attendance either looked away or studied you with quiet suspicion. The judgment was suffocating, their silence worse than any spell.

It didn’t matter that you had fought alongside them.

It didn’t matter that your father had died for the same cause they claimed to fight for.

To them, you would always be the niece of Bellatrix Lestrange, the cousin of Draco Malfoy, and a member of a bloodline they had been raised to despise.

George sat beside you, his arm stretched protectively along the back of your chair, his grip on the wood tight enough to turn his knuckles white. You could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm ready to break.

“She is not like them,” George said, his voice dangerously calm, the kind of calm that only came before an explosion.

Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. “George, we’re not saying she is,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “But she was raised by—”

“I was raised by Sirius,” you interrupted sharply, your voice shaking with anger. “And he was murdered fighting against Death Eaters. He gave up everything for this war, and you’re sitting here acting like his daughter can’t be trusted?”

Charlie crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” you shot back, your nails digging into your palms. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks very simple.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Look, it’s not like we think you’d—y’know—do anything. It’s just… you’re related to people who would.”

George let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, bloody brilliant, Ron. She’s related to Death Eaters, so she must secretly be one too? That’s your logic?”

Ron scowled. “That’s not what I—”

“Well, it sure as hell sounds like what you’re saying.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “George, don’t take that tone with your brother.”

George turned to her so fast it was a miracle his neck didn’t snap. “Oh, don’t take that tone?” he repeated mockingly. “Right, because I’m the problem here. Not the fact that you all are sitting around this table accusing my girlfriend—someone I love—of being a bloody traitor just because of her last name!”

Arthur cleared his throat, trying to keep the peace. “No one is accusing her of anything, George, but you have to understand how it looks—”

“How it looks?” George scoffed, his ears burning red with anger. “You lot are the ones who go on and on about how family doesn’t define you, but the second it’s her, suddenly, it’s different?”

Fred, who had been quiet up until now, raised an eyebrow. “I mean… he’s got a point.”

Percy, of course, was unmoved. “We’re in a war, George. We have to be cautious.”

George slammed his fist against the table, making everyone jump. “Oh, bullshit.” His voice was shaking now, barely contained fury spilling over. “You want to talk about family? Fine. Let’s talk about family. Let’s talk about Sirius, who risked his life for years just so you lot could sit here and act holier than thou. Let’s talk about Andromeda, who got disowned for marrying a Muggle-born. Let’s talk about Regulus, who died trying to bring Voldemort down. But no, let’s not talk about that, because that doesn’t fit your little narrative, does it?”

Percy’s jaw tightened. “You’re being emotional—”

“OF COURSE I’M BEING EMOTIONAL, PERCY!” George shouted, pushing back his chair so forcefully it nearly toppled over. “THIS IS HER LIFE YOU’RE SITTING HERE PICKING APART LIKE SHE’S A BLOODY SUSPECT!”

You swallowed hard, throat tight as you looked around the table. The Weasleys—the family you had desperately wanted to be a part of—were staring at you like you were a problem to be solved.

It stung. Merlin, it burned.

George turned to look at you, and the fire in his eyes softened for just a moment. Then, his grip on your hand tightened, and he turned back to his family with the same unwavering conviction.

“I trust her,” he said, his voice quieter but no less powerful. “I love her. And if you actually knew her—if you actually cared to know her—you would too.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Fred was the first to speak. “You do have a bad habit of thinking everyone in Slytherin is evil,” he pointed out to Percy. “Remember when you thought Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin? Good times.”

Ginny let out a reluctant snort. “Oh yeah. And wasn’t there that time you swore our History of Magic professor was hiding Dark artifacts?”

Percy scowled. “That was a logical suspicion.”

George rolled his eyes. “Right. But my girlfriend is the issue.”

Arthur sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “No one is saying she’s the issue, George.”

George scoffed. “Sure as hell feels like you are.”

Molly, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “We were wrong,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “And I’m sorry, dear,” she added, looking at you. “You’ve been nothing but kind to us, and we should’ve seen that instead of… everything else.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. “George is right. Family doesn’t define who we are. We should’ve given you more credit.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t everything.

But it was a start.

George, however, wasn’t done. “Yeah, well, next time, maybe don’t make my girlfriend feel like a bloody criminal before you get around to realizing that.”

Charlie sighed again. “Duly noted.”

Ron cleared his throat. “So… we’re all good then?”

George huffed. “Not even remotely, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Fred smirked. “Damn, mate, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this whipped.”

George turned to you then, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so deliberate that it made your heart ache. “Yeah, well,” he said, grinning despite himself, “she’s worth it.”

The tension lingered long after dinner had ended. Though Arthur and Molly had offered their apologies, you could still feel the weight hanging in the air. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but every glance in your direction felt like it carried the ghost of doubt.

George had barely left your side since the argument. His hand was either on your back, your shoulder, or intertwined with yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

You sat curled up in one of the worn armchairs in the Burrow’s living room, staring into the crackling fire. The warm glow danced over the walls, casting shadows that flickered like ghosts. George sat on the floor beside you, his back against the chair, absently playing with your fingers as he watched the flames.

“They’ll come around,” he murmured, breaking the silence.

You sighed. “Will they?”

George turned slightly, looking up at you. “They bloody well better,” he said, a little fire still left in his voice. “I’m not going to spend every holiday listening to them question you when they should be questioning why Percy is still allowed at the table after the Ministry stunt he pulled.”

That made you huff out a laugh. “That’s different.”

“Oh, sure,” he said, nodding sarcastically. “He outright betrays the family, but yeah, let’s grill my girlfriend because her aunt happens to be a psychopath.”

You rested your chin on your knees, your fingers tightening slightly around his. “I just… I get it, George. Even if it hurts. The Black name is cursed in their eyes.”

George shook his head firmly. “Not to me,” he said. “Not to Sirius.”

At the mention of your father, your throat tightened. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly at the fire. “He’d be so pissed if he saw how they treated me tonight.”

“Oh, furious,” George agreed. “He’d hex Percy’s eyebrows off just for fun.”

That actually made you snort. “And then he’d hex yours, just to be fair.”

George grinned. “Yeah, well, I’d take it as an honor.”

Silence settled between you again, but this time it was warmer, more comfortable. George kept playing with your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm.

Finally, he spoke, voice quieter now. “You are family, you know.”

You looked down at him, his profile bathed in the fire’s glow. “To you?”

He turned fully this time, twisting so he was kneeling in front of you, resting his arms on the armrest of the chair. His eyes were soft but steady, filled with something deep and unwavering. “To me,” he confirmed. “And to Fred. And Ginny. And, well, half of them already admitted they were being stupid, so give it time. They’ll see what I see.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “And what do you see?”

A slow smile crept across his lips, but it wasn’t playful—it was serious. And that was what made your breath catch.

“I see the girl who’s stronger than any of them,” he said. “Who’s spent her whole life proving she’s more than a name. Who fights harder, loves deeper, and makes me feel like the luckiest idiot in the world just for being in the same room as her.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs. “George—”

“I love you,” he said, the words slipping out like they had always been there, like they had always belonged to you.

You sucked in a breath, barely realizing your hands had moved to his face, your thumbs brushing over the freckles on his cheeks.

And then you whispered, “I love you too.”

Before he could say another word, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

George didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist, pulling you down from the chair and into his lap, arms wrapping around you like he was never letting go.

And maybe, just maybe, he never would.