#except for the last one to mess with fredd

[songsofwaterandnight]

Thank you @negromameswey for tagging me! I'm sorry that I took so long to answer; I've been very busy.

Rules: Tag some people you want to get to know better/catch up with and then answer these questions

-Last Song: Drumming Song by Florence + The Machine(who doesn't love a timeless bop about coming to terms with your sexuality after growing up in a church environment?)

-Last Movie: Kill Bill Volume 1(I know this is the same as the last time but I don't watch movies a lot and I have been busy)

-Currently Reading: Nothing right now really. The last book I read was The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas and it was really good. A friend recommended "The Magicians" series to me years ago and I started it but I've never really brought myself to actually finishing it.

-Currently Watching: Schitt's Creek season 6 came to netflix like a week or 2 ago so I'm getting caught up.

-Currently Craving: Physical Intimacy. HMU if you're willing to travel 1000 miles to hug me.

-Currently Working On: My sleep schedule. If y'all see me on this hell site after 2 am eastern, I have failed that day.

-Currently Playing: men, Among Us, men in Among Us and myself(in Among Us too).

I tag: @life-as-a-hobby @justarandomguyhere @phagethemage @raphayella @mystiqdreamer @senil888 @the-incredible-moon-knight @shiny-rhydon @broshawott @porple-purple @nonsequiturpizza @homoprince @sugar-twink  @hungryhungryhomosexual @mavenmemnon @sketchytrap @cobaltdays @prettiestlttleliar @loxalare @dickspooky @startorrent02 @cries-2-much @kaybeedaydream​ @bundibird @spru02 @lordknightmon and @freddkong

[ickle-ronniekins]

my absolute favorite person, III

A/N: hi everybody! (i’m going to put my longer a/n at the bottom because i've a lot to say!) i want to thank you all so much for all of the incredibly kind feedback on MAFP, parts one and two. the banter in italics at the end are a flashback to the scene of them at the lake during their sixth year, which you can find in part one. if i may make a suggestion: whilst reading this, listen to “we keep in touch, okay?” from the love, rosie soundtrack to evoke ALL of the emotions. if you’re new here and need the other parts, you can read part one here and part two here, loves x

pairing: george x reader

word count: 2k something

tag list: tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle

other tags: @jenniweaslee @thelittlewritingcorner @siriusblackisme @they-reblog-once-in-a-blue-moon @chaoticgirl04 @mytreec @potterverseimagine  @emcchi @godricsswords @tallyovie @msmimimerton @the-shattered-tea-cup @mischi3f-manag3d @quillsareforwriting @imseeinggred @i-am-kenz @verokela @imholeyfred-geddit @bralessandflawless

You were worried that returning to the place where you’d fallen in love all those long years ago would be a painful reminder of everything you’d lost. You were surprised that instead, it brought to you an inordinate feeling of comfort, and of home.

The golden leaves on the trees were reflecting beautifully off of the very still water in the Black Lake. You heard an excited yelp come from the forest -- surely due to Hagrid’s first Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the year. You were certain. You grinned to yourself.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, half expecting to feel the very worn parchment you knew all too well inside. Except, it wasn’t there. You’d lost it somewhere a few months ago. You’d panicked when you’d first noticed, because how could you have misplaced something that was seemingly attached at your hip? It was just another thing you’d lost, another reminder of what you couldn’t have back. Not that it mattered, not really. You’d memorized every word of it. You could recite it in your sleep. Everyone at his engagement party had heard everything on it, anyway. Well, everything except for what was written on the other side.

You’d fallen into a very deep type of misery following his wedding. Following your divorce. You’d ignored George’s constant letters asking you to grab lunch or dinner, to come stop by the shop. You’d pretend to not be at your flat whenever he’d stopped by and knocked on your door; you’d hide behind your curtains or underneath the covers of your bed. You’d begun to pick fights with Fred for no reason at all, except to evoke some emotion other than despondency. You’d wanted to feel anything other than discouragement. You’d yelled at him one day in your flat, If you knew how I felt all those years ago, why didn’t you tell me you knew? Why didn’t you do anything about it? Why didn’t you bloody tell him? And he’d yelled right back, I tried! I tried telling him, Y/N, and I tried telling you, but it was pretty bloody difficult to break the promise you’d forced me to make when we were young, to never reveal the very best of you to anyone. Did you really expect me to betray you like that, even when it came to my own brother?

The arguments were pointless, you’d found, because Fred wasn’t to blame. Neither was George. They weren’t mind-readers, no matter how much you wished they could be. The only person to blame was yourself, and yourself alone. You’d made this awful mess; now you had to live in it.

And yet, even through your brokenness, somehow, you still found yourself going back to to your story at the party -- when you’d said all you could say, you swore there had been a type of glimmer in his eye you’d never seen before. But were you being daft? Was it your eyes and mind playing tricks on you? He was in love with her, not with you. You were just seeing what you’d wanted to see.

There was one particularly horrid day, when you’d hadn’t moved from your bed and it was nearing four p.m.; you weren’t exactly sure what number sleeve of jaffa cakes you were on but you’d certainly eaten enough of them. Your hair was greasily plastered to the side of your face, and you desperately needed to change your socks. Actually, you’d desperately needed to change your entire life.

And so you’d taken up your prior Deputy Headmistresses’ offer, packed your bags, and moved to Scotland. Which is how you ended up here, now, on the Hogwarts grounds near the lake, having just finished your first ever Charms lesson with a rather exuberant class of second years.

The sound of students calling you ‘Professor’ hadn’t really given you the same warm feeling that one of George’s sparkling grins had always given you. But it would do. It would more than do. It was a new beginning, wasn’t it? One you’d never asked for, but didn’t know how much you needed.

And then a crunch of a leaf came, pulling you from your thoughts, and you whirled around, expecting to find a young, measly student skipping out on their lesson, or a fellow Professor coming in to check on you and how your first day had been. Except it was neither of those things. It was him.

His red hair was shorter than it was from the last time you’d seen him; it looked like he’d just gotten it freshly cut. He was clean-shaven with perfect posture. He was dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans and a grey sweater, one that had most definitely been sewn with love and care by Molly -- it nothing compared to his dragonskin suits. There were slight bags underneath his eyes, and yet, he was still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Years ago, if this had happened, you’d have run into his arms, and he would’ve lifted you completely off of the ground and spun you in circles until you both fell to the ground, dizzy, and laughing. But now, you didn’t even know exactly what to say to him.

He started.

“Hi,”

You had to clear your throat a few times before any words were able to come from your mouth. “Hi,” you echoed him.

He placed his hands inside his pockets and glanced around the grounds, and you noticed a small grin lift his cheeks a bit. “Bloody hell -- Charms professor, eh? Who’d have thought?”

“Who’d have thought,” you echoed him again, carefully choosing every word to escape your lips. There was a considerable amount of distance between you both, and it felt strangely uneasy.

He met your gaze and furrowed his brow, as if to keep himself from crying. His lips were a thin, firm line. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve missed you.”

The truth was, you didn’t know exactly how long it had been. Days had melted into weeks, weeks into months...you’re not entirely sure when the last time you’d spoken to him was. Not for lack of trying on his part, though. You knew this was all your own doing. You felt a sharp twang in your heart at the thought. “I -- I know. I’m sorry. Been really busy, as you can see --”

God, you were so daft. That sounded so bloody pretentious in your own ears, and you shook your head in hopes of erasing your words as they hung in the air between you both. No such luck. He walked toward you now, and stopped a few inches from you. You were certain that your feet were frozen solid into the soil and the leaves of the Earth. You were about to apologize again, when he beat you to it.

“Found something of yours,” he started, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Well, actually, Fred did. Somewhere in his flat. But he gave it to me.” George looked down and pulled from his pocket that piece of parchment you knew all too well, and you were certain your heart had skipped a beat. Maybe two. It looked strangely at home in his hands, as your eyes scanned the words that were engraved in your mind.

He fiddled with it delicately in his fingers, and your breath hitched in your throat as he gently turned the parchment over to the other side, to reveal those other words you’d written, but never, ever dare spoke aloud.

You swore you saw his lip wobble as you sucked in a breath. “Is -- is this how you’ve always felt?”

He handed you the parchment, and you traced your pointer finger gingerly across the words you could hardly see. The words you’d wanted so desperately to say that day, and other times, too, but couldn’t. Shouldn’t. But even so, you could still make them out, faded as they were:

I truly love you.

How utterly and painfully embarrassing. Here you were, life still somewhat in shambles, divorced, patching together the broken pieces of your mistakes, confronted by the man you’d been in love with for years about your own feelings you’d bloody written down on a bit of scrap parchment, and all you could bring yourself to do was trace your fingers over the words. You couldn’t even look at him. Ridiculous. But you shut your eyes tight, gritted your teeth, then looked up into his light brown eyes, and nodded.

You seemed to have lost your voice; but it was no matter, because George was fiddling with something else in his pocket. “Can’t believe you’ve kept it all this time,” he said, more-so to himself than to you, and he laughed lightly. He shook his head slowly, and then pulled out another bit of parchment. It was a bit yellowed, and more faded than yours, but he held it out to you. “I’ve kept mine, too.”

Of course. The speech he’d written for your wedding. An involuntary laugh escaped you, for you were immediately brought back to exactly that night, when he’d stood up and told one of the most embarrassing stories of your entire life, drunk on whiskey and friendship and fondness.

You chuckled lightly to yourself and sniffled a bit. “I remember,” you said softly, running your fingers across his handwriting. “How could I possibly forget when my best mate had embarrassed me in front of my entire family?”

A bright smile split your face for the first time in.. you didn’t even know how long, but when you looked up into George’s eyes, he wasn’t sharing that same brightness in his own grin. His was soft, and tired, and tears were glistening, glazing over his eyes. He took a deep breath and stood -- patient -- waiting for you to realize. He glanced down toward the parchment, and back up at you.

Something came over you in that moment; something from the look in his eye told you there was more you needed to know. And so you gingerly turned the delicate piece of parchment over in your hands, half expecting to see the same four words you’d written on your own, and half expecting to see nothing at all. What you didn’t expect, though, were the four words he’d written down:

Will you marry me?

Your heart stopped. You couldn’t feel your toes. Your tears froze in place and you looked quickly from the parchment to him, and back again. The ink was so beyond faded, so it’s not like he’d just scratched it down. Had he really written it down all that time ago? Had that truly been what he’d wanted to say to you before your own wedding? What he’d wanted to ask?

He took your hands in his then, your lip quivering more than you would have liked. His voice was a bit wobbly as he spoke, “It was true then,” he breathed, interlacing his fingers with yours, “and it’s true now. How I feel, I mean. And the question, I -- I wanted to ask you, after we’d finished school, even though we hadn’t ever really..” his voice drifted off, and he was swallowing down his own vulnerability. He took another deep breath before continuing, “And then the war happened and life got in the way and other people came and went and.. time got away from us, I’m afraid.”

And then he gingerly got down on one knee, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him kneeling in front of you, with his bright red hair and freckled nose and boyish charm that would never, ever fade. You noticed the tears in his eyes as he traced small circles onto your hands with his thumbs. “I shouldn’t have let you go that first time, and I’ll be damned if I let myself do it again,” you both began to laugh a bit, and you noticed his bare finger, void of his own wedding ring. You couldn’t believe this, you couldn’t possibly believe it. His voice was so beautifully broken and soft, “Marry me, and I promise to always bother you, always embarrass you, and to only ever help you with your work if you truly need it.”

A hearty laugh broke through your tears, and somehow you managed to say yes, and he placed a sparkling ring on your finger. And when, for the first time in all these years, his lips touched yours, it was a perfect piano piece resolving it’s melody, it was the quintessential blend of colours in a rainbow after a rainstorm, it was the incredibly nerve-wracking and freeing feeling of flying on a broomstick for the very first time and absolutely everything in between; there was nothing in this entire world that felt better, or more needed, or more right than the feeling of his lips moving slowly against yours.

You both parted, but you found it incredibly difficult to remove your hands from him. The colours of the leaves reflecting off of the water transported you back immediately to that day during your sixth year, when you’d realized how you felt..

“And to think,” you began to tease, sniffling slightly and pulling gently on the sleeves of his sweater, “all these years later, and somehow I still let myself hang around with the likes of you.”

He threw his head back in a laugh. He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly and said, “It’s because you love me.” He peered into your eyes now, and again around at the gorgeous autumnal grounds of Hogwarts, and shook his head. “I couldn’t live my life without you, no matter how bloody long it took us both,” he placed a piece of hair behind your ear before pressing his forehead gently to yours. He breathed, “I never stopped loving you,” and closed the gap between you both once again.

“Hey, George?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you always go around bothering people and distracting them from the work they’ve got to complete?”

“Almost exclusively.”

“Then promise me something.”

“For my absolute favorite person? Anything.”

“Promise to always bother me, for the rest of our lives. Take me away from my work and my thoughts and tell me stories and jokes like you did that night at the Yule Ball a few months ago, and make me laugh for as long as you’ll have me. Okay? Promise me.”

“Okay, darling. I promise.”

-- -

A/N (cont’d): aayyyyy my peeps! so idk how y’all feel but i like to imagine that after the ending, she and george stay at the lake, reminisce over all of their memories together, laughing and joking about all of these moments how many times the stars just hadn’t aligned for them both.

thanks again for reading, guys! i hope you feel completed and whole by the ending like i do. i didn’t realize just how much i was going to put into this -- i really came up with the idea on a whim and didn’t really expect to make it so emotional or even make it three parts, but hearing your incredibly kind words and responses to each part of this mini series has reminded me of why i ADORE writing for this fandom. I ADORE IT.

anywhoooo, please leave feedback, comments, reblog and share with your friends if you enjoy, and i'll be sure to link all of the pieces together :) thanks so much! x