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dreamcubed · 2 years

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girls on film | george weasley x reader

song; girls on film [duran duran] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle-born!reader genre; forced proximity, s2l, fluff word count; 5,3k timeline; prisoner of azkaban warnings; swearing, sexual innuendo summary; in an attempt to connect more to the muggle world, hogwarts started a broadcasting club, which looked to be a massive aid in you finding more about your best friend's crush for her. only, you didn't expect to find a crush of your own along the way

masterlist

heavily inspired by the film 20th century girl with a touch of love actually!

"lipstick cherry all over the lens as she's falling."

———————————————

Anisa Deshpande, your beloved best friend, had been infatuated with Fred Weasley ever since he helped her up after she tripped in the corridor in third year. There was not a single day she went without mentioning his name, mentioning what he'd eaten, mentioning what classes he had. You had gotten used to it, as he was far from all she talked about, so you learned to tolerate when she did.

It was to your great dismay that she was diagnosed with a serious heart condition during the summer holidays between fourth and fifth year, meaning that she wouldn't be able to return to Hogwarts along with everyone else. On the brighter side, things were looking good: she was likely to be discharged from Mungo's around Christmas time, and therefore be able to make a return to school for the second term.

When you visited her in hospital for the last time before you were to head back to Hogwarts, she had been devastatingly upset about not being able to gaze at Fred for another few months. Out of sympathy for her, you offered to observe him in her place and report back anything of significance so she could still feel as if she was around him herself. You didn't think she had ever thanked you as much as she did in that moment.

Thus you found yourself sat back at your house table, the sorting ceremony done, only half-listening to Dumbledore's introductory speech. Your eyes were fixed on to the Weasley twins who were, for once, not whispering mischievously with each other.

"This year we have decided to take steps to connect more with the muggle world," Dumbledore said, which pulled your attention away from the twins, "It has become apparent that many of you have grown up with an alarming lack of exposure to muggle technology, so we have elected to start a broadcasting club - using muggle equipment."

People began muttering amongst each other - some excited, some annoyed.

"If you wish to sign up, please speak with the muggle studies professor, Professor Burbage."

***

You began sending weekly summaries of your observations of Fred, even noting to Anisa how you were now able to tell the twins apart. There was rarely anything interesting in any of the letters, but you knew Anisa well enough to know each and every word would still mean the world to her.

Occasionally, when it wasn't too suspicious to do so, you would trail behind the Weasley twins from a distance and eavesdrop on their conversations. They mostly discussed their plans for new pranks or pranking products - as you had learned, pranking was more than just a hobby for them, it was their passion.

It was what you had been expecting to be a regular Wednesday when you learned an absolutely vital piece of information.

It was not too long after an infamous Weasley prank had been pulled, that you happened to be nearby for (a genuine coincidence, believe it or not). McGonagall had arrived and was scolding the twins for their repetitive mischief, not caring for the fact there was an audience observing. You knew by now that the twins wouldn't be all that bothered by that fact either: you were constantly impressed by their confidence and lack of shame.

"As for your punishments, I think it would be best to separate the both of you," she said, turning her head to look at one of the twins, "Fred, you will join the broadcasting club for a mandatory duration of six weeks."

Bingo.

You would simply have to join the broadcasting club, then.

"Y/N," you felt someone grab your arm - it was Angelina, "C'mon, we're gonna be late for potions."

"Shit," you muttered, letting her lead you away from the crime scene. What you didn't realise was that your departure caused you to miss the next part of the interaction between McGonagall and the Weasley twins.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the twin she had been looking at said.

The poor woman sighed, "Fine then, George, you will join the broadcasting club for six weeks."

"What about me?" Fred asked.

***

"You'd like to sign up for the broadcasting club?" Burbage looked up from the papers on her desk.

You nodded enthusiastically.

"As a muggle-born, I really don't think you need to learn to connect with the muggle world, Miss L/N," she said skeptically.

"Well, don't you think I'd be useful in helping guide the others?" you questioned hopefully, "I'd be able to answer any questions they have."

Burbage bobbed her head in a way that suggested you had made a good point, "Very well then."

You couldn't wait to tell Anisa about this.

***

That wasn't Fred - you were one hundred percent sure of that fact. The second you had entered the broadcasting room, you had scanned the place for a mop of ginger hair, only to see that the twin present was not the twin you had been expecting. Your newfound ability to tell them apart was definitely proving useful.

"L/N! Great, you're here," Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw boy, said cheerfully, "We all have partners in this club, and since you and Weasley are both new, you can partner up. Normally I'd worry about putting two amateurs together, but since you're a muggle-born, I'm sure you'll manage fine."

Getting close to Fred's twin brother and best friend wasn't a bad shout in getting more insight to Fred, you realised, so maybe this wasn't the end of the world.

"Hey," George greeted you when you walked up to him.

"Hello," you replied, trying to match his cheerful energy as best you could. This method wouldn't work if you didn't try to be as likeable to him as you could.

Boot then called the attention of the room, "Right, now that we're all here - our next assignments." He then began gifting different tasks to different pairs, eventually landing on you and George. "L/N and Weasley, I'm putting you both in charge of filming this week, so we can get more content for our work-in-progress montage video of Hogwarts life - we'd like you to focus on filming social gatherings, friends interacting, etcetera. You know how to work a muggle camera?"

You nodded.

"Perfect."

As Boot continued giving out instructions, George turned to you.

"You know how muggle shit works?"

"I'm muggle-born," you said, moving over to where the filming equipment was situated, "Don't worry, I'll teach you."

"Or you could just do all the work and I'll cheer you on from the sidelines," he countered with a cheeky grin.

You smirked, "Very funny, mister, but that's not how things work around here."

"Bet you're fun at parties."

"Oh, I'm the life of the party actually," you grinned at him, "Ask any of my friends and they can confirm."

You didn't see the way that George smiled at you after, as you had turned around.

***

On an unusually sunny day for Autumn, most people were gathered outside near the lake for lunchtime, and you had decided this was a good time for filming. Just because you were in the club to gain information on Fred, didn't mean you weren't going to take your responsibilities seriously. Plus, it was a perfect opportunity to film Fred- everyone interacting. You had dragged George away from his friend group, much to his dismay, to then show him how to use a camera.

You had it set up on a tripod on a grassy knoll, overlooking most of the friend groups as they chatted and ate lunch. In particular, there was a clear view of Fred.

While George stood behind the camera, you thought it would be a good idea to ask him some questions about Fred: after all, you would have to make the most of the situation.

"What about... a girlfriend?" you asked, pulling out your notebook with your gaze pinned on George's other half.

"Nope." He pressed the zoom in button on the camera, practising his new skills.

"Ideal type?"

"Dunno," he paused, "Ruby Wartsnout?"

"Oh, so like... someone bubbly?" you pondered, "That's good."

George looked down at you with a raised brow as you scribbled notes, but then turned back to the camera.

"Favourite book?"

"Jane Eyre."

"Really? Me too," you chirped. So, Fred had good taste, at least. But, to be fair, the Brontë sisters were some of the most famous witches to walk the planet - even muggles knew about them (not that they were witches, of course).

"Plans after Hogwarts?"

"Open a prank shop."

"Prank... shop..." you said aloud as you wrote it down, "So, he wants to make people laugh since he's funny, right?"

George smirks, "Thanks, but it's not just that. I like the technical process behind products and pranks too."

"Likes the technica-" you stopped writing, realisation dawning on you. You quickly whack George with your notebook. "Seriously? This isn't about you!" you turn the page in your notebook, "We're starting over, and I'm asking about Fred."

"You have a go with the filming," he said, moving away, "I've been doing it all."

You sighed but agreed, taking his place behind the camera as he walked over to his brother and friends. You took the opportunity to zoom in on Fred, watching as his face lit up and he laughed at something someone said. He was looking to his right, so you panned over to who he was talking to, only to see George come into view.

His eyes flicked in your direction and locked on to the camera lens, making you look up from behind the camera in slight shock. George's eyes moved up to make eye contact with yours, and for a few moments you stayed like that, gazing at each other. Then, something Fred said caught his attention, making him take his eyes off you.

Why was your heart beating so fast?

***

In that week's letter to Anisa, you couldn't help but gush about George after giving the updates on Fred, even going as far to inform her that you were pretty sure you were falling for him. Once you were finished, you signed the letter with your name and a few hearts, before folding it and pressing your wax seal to the envelope.

That was a fun thing about being muggle-born: you got to design your family's official wax seal.

You began the journey up to the owlery with the letter held tight to your chest, since it was a somewhat windy day and your destination was up a hill. When you reached the small building, you recognised two similar voices chatting eagerly with each other. They stopped when they heard you enter.

"Hello," you greeted, primarily directed at George as you had hardly spoken to Fred before.

"Hey, dove," George replied, his face stretching into a grin as he referred to you by the nickname he had taken to recently, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Commonly visited location, believe it or not," you said, holding out your arm for your owl to land on.

He hummed.

"I think Boot wants us to do the Hogwarts radio station this week - not sure if he means the presenting or technical stuff," you informed while attaching the letter to your owl.

"He's not George, I am," the other twin spoke up, making you look towards them.

You made eye contact with both of them, examining their irises as well as you could from a distance, before saying, "Nice try, Fred." You let your owl go after giving him a treat. "Right, I have homework to attend to. Have a good day, both of you - see you tomorrow, George."

"Yeah, see you," he said, his voice fading in mesmerisation as he spoke, watching you leave the owlery.

"Did you see that?" Fred asked suddenly.

"Hm?"

"She could tell us apart. Not even mum can do that."

"Yeah."

Fred smacked George around the head.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"You were in a daze, lover boy."

George scoffed.

***

"Okay. Thank you for listening in here at Radio Hogwarts, we hope you all have a wonderful half-term - we'll be back in November. Goodbye," you finished reading the script, the microphone connecting your voice to the students around the school.

George signalled to you that the broadcasting had been turned off, giving you a thumbs up in the process, so you smiled and stood up from your seat in the recording studio. You walked over to the door into the rest of the broadcasting club room, beaming appreciatively as everyone applauded you.

"Enjoy the week off, everyone," you said kindly, taking your satchel from one of the cubby holes along the wall.

A chorus of mutual wishes came in reply as George walked up to you.

"Got any plans for half-term?" he asked.

"Well, aside from homework, I'm thinking of doing some filming around Hogsmeade." Truth was, you had found a passion for filming and broadcasting during your time in the club, and had put in to borrow one of the cameras for the week. "What about you?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Pranks and all that," he said, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at you, "I'll... uh... see you around."

You had never seen George so hesitant and... nervous... before. It was a completely new look on him, one that had you feeling alarmingly hopeful.

"Yeah, I'll see you around, George," you smiled, "Maybe in Hogsmeade."

"Yeah, maybe."

***

You were walking alongside Angelina with the camera in your hand recording the surroundings, the streets of Hogsmeade already coated with snow even though it was only October. You assumed that it was to do with how northern the village and Hogwarts were.

Angelina and you were wrapped up appropriately for the weather, although gloves did make it a little harder to press the buttons on the camera. Nonetheless, you managed, and allowed Angelina to lead you while you looked into the eyepiece and viewed the distant surroundings more closely up. That was when a familiar face popped into view, quickly making you look up to see it in real life.

George, and (of course), by extension, Fred. The former quickly spotted you and made a beeline for your direction, which made both you and Angelina come to a halt as she had noticed them as well.

"Hey, dove," George greeted, "Got a good shot of me?"

"Only the best," you said with a smile, "You two here for Zonko's?" Why else would they be?

Fred nodded, "Checking out the competition."

You chuckled, remembering how George mentioned that his dream was to open a prank shop - even though he had been answering for himself, it was easy to tell that the answer applied to Fred as well.

"Mind if I take some shots?" George gestured to the camera.

"Oh, sure, but it's the school's so don't break it."

"I won't."

"Oh my Godric, they've got Halloween-themed chocolate frogs!" Angelina exclaimed suddenly, gazing into the window of Honeydukes that you were stood outside of. She grabbed your hand. "We have to get them all."

"Get the camera back to me in one piece!" you said loudly to George as your friend dragged you into the sweet shop.

The twins were long gone from outside Honeydukes by the time Angelina had grabbed every Halloween chocolate frog she could find, but you weren't too worried about the camera. Maybe you should've been: the Weasley twins were infamous for their tricks. Though, you got the feeling that George wouldn't want to do something like that to you. As for Fred, you didn't know, as despite your many attempts to garner information about his life, you had found yourself more and more distracted by George.

"Let's go get some butterbeer," Angelina said, "The twins will show up eventually." It was as if she had read your mind.

***

"This is the last carriage back, where the fuck are they?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"We probably just didn't notice them catching a carriage earlier," Angelina said - always reasonable.

Unlikely, since you had been gazing out the window of the Three Broomsticks ever since you sat down. Nonetheless, you didn't attempt to argue with Angelina, and instead settled down into the carriage.

"You like George, don't you?"

Your eyes snapped up to her, both shocked at her words and relieved you were the only ones in the carriage.

"Yup, you do."

You scoffed.

"You're not even trying to deny it! You're down bad."

Sighing, you folded your arms in front of you, "Well, you caught me. I'm not great at hiding it."

She hummed, "He likes you back."

"Don't feed my delusions, Angie," although secretly you did hope that she was right.

"They're not delusions if they're logical."

"You're such a smartass."

She rolled her eyes playfully, "The man's obsessed with you. He literally calls you 'dove'."

"If he cared that much, then maybe he'd get the camera back to me sooner."

***

"Here you go, Y/N, sorry I kept it for so long," George plopped the camera in your hand essentially the second you stepped back into Hogwarts.

"When the fuck did you get back?"

He shrugged, "A while ago, I wanted to make copies of the stuff I filmed."

"You know how to do that?"

He nodded happily, making you raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Okay, okay, I got Boot to help."

You hummed at his honesty.

"I didn't delete any of it from the camera, though, didn't wanna risk deleting any of your stuff."

"Okay, thank you, George."

"It's fine," he beamed, "I figured better safe than sorry. See you at dinner!"

"Where are you going?" the question had come out more disappointed than you had intended it, and you could tell George noticed.

He gave you a soft smile, "As much as I love chatting with you, dove, my dearest brother and I have pranks to plan."

You were much more flustered than you wanted to be when he began walking away.

***

It was dark out when you settled yourself into the broadcasting club room, downloading the content of the camera to one of the computers in there. As you knew how to do it, it wouldn't take you too long, meaning you would be done before dinner.

You waited until all the videos were transferred before wiping the memory of the camera, deciding to take a look at the shots you had taken before leaving. By clicking the first video, they all began playing through in chronological order: shaky shots of the carriage ride down to Hogsmeade, Angelina gazing at the shop displays, until the last video you had taken before handing the camera over to George.

Feeling nosy, you elected to watch his stuff: there couldn't be anything too private, could there? He had only had the camera while in a public place. Plus, he had openly admitted to you that he hadn't deleted any of it without telling you not to look. If it was bad, he would have said so, you were sure of it.

The computer purred as the video started playing, the static quality of the screen providing you with a strange sense of comfort. It started off with a long-distance view of the snow-covered Hogsmeade buildings, before it zoomed in more closely and panned over to you and Angelina, stepping out of Honeydukes and looking around. As the camera zoomed in even further, it focused entirely on you: wisps of your hair that framed your face were blowing about over your furrowed eyebrows.

You hadn't seen George filming this. How hadn't you spotted him?

The next video wasn't all that different: it was taken from outside the Three Broomsticks while you sat at a table by the window. For the most part, you were looking out with your chin rested on your palm, but occasionally you would turn back and say something to Angelina who was primarily chatting with the other girls on the Gryffindor quidditch team.

The final shot was of you stood outside of the last carriage back, having a somewhat heated conversation with Angelina while you scanned your surroundings. The video ended just as Angelina had beckoned you to get into the carriage.

How the fuck had George taken that video and still gotten back to the castle before you? Apparition? No, that was impossible. A secret tunnel? You couldn't rule it out, you had always suspected that the Weasley twins knew things about the castle no one else did, and those suspicions had grown once you started observing Fred. Too many a time had you spotted them at one place in the castle only to see them at another when there was only one route between the two locations - that you had been taking yourself.

One thing was for sure: George hadn't actually had the time to get Boot to help him download copies of his shots.

***

You walked nervously over to the Gryffindor table when you entered the Great Hall for dinner, specifically towards the Weasley twins.

"Hey," George smiled, eyes flicking to the brown package in your hand but quickly back up to you again.

"They're all of me," you said quietly, staring down at your hands.

He tilted his head, "Well, yeah, why would I want to film anything else?"

Your heart somersaulted, and the way he smiled a big grin at you didn't help calm your emotions down.

"Can- can I ask you a question?" you eventually spoke, feeling uncomfortably like eyes other than his were on you.

"You can ask me anything, dove."

"How did you get back?"

George's lips parted slightly in mild surprise, "What d'you mean? By carriage, like everyone else."

You shook your head, "No, you didn't." You sat down opposite the twins, so you could lean forward and speak more quietly, "I mean, it makes sense that you two would know about secret tunnels or whatever, it's very in character for you. But is there really one all the way from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts?"

Both the twins stared at you in disbelief, until George finally spoke, "Shit, I did kinda make it too obvious with the video, didn't I?"

You nodded, "I suspected before that anyway, the video kinda just confirmed it."

"You were watching us, weren't you?" Fred said, making you snap your eyes to him in panic, "I swear whenever I could sense that we were being watched, you were always around."

Nervously, you chuckled, "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Wait. Am I the reason you joined the broadcasting club?" George asked.

You fumbled over your words, unsure of what to say, "Uh- I mean... kinda?" It broke your heart the way he beamed at you, as you had technically joined for Fred.

"C'mon," George stood up, "I wanna show you something." He turned to Fred. "Mind if I leave you for a bit?"

Fred shrugged, "Use protection."

He had said it so nonchalantly, and the fact George didn't acknowledge it made it all that worse. You sighed, following him to the end of the table where you could finally stand next to each other. He held his hand out to you, and you took it.

You walked down the corridor hand in hand, which didn't go unnoticed by passerbyers: you didn't know whether that filled you with pride or panic.

"I could've sworn it was Fred you were looking at at first," George spoke, "Especially when you were asking those questions about him."

You sighed, "I mean, I was at first- but not in the way you think!" Merlin, how could you be honest without throwing Anisa under the bus?

"No?"

"Yeah, I just, I have a friend that likes him, and I offered to, uh, I don't know... gather info?"

"Is it Angelina?"

Thank Merlin, he didn't suspect Anisa. "I'm not saying who it is."

"Oh, come on, please?" he asked, gently bringing your walking to a halt.

"No, it's not my secret to share, George."

He sighed, admitting defeat, "Okay, anyway, here we are."

You turned around to look where he was looking to see the one-eyed witch statue. Many times had you seen it before, though you were still confused.

"This is the secret passage to Hogsmeade," he said quietly.

"Behind the...?"

He hummed, "Figured you could make use of it."

"For what? Why are you showing me?"

"Don't you get it?" he flicked your head, "I like you, dumbass. Were the videos not enough to show that?"

You smiled abashedly down to the ground.

"This is the part where you either reject me or say you like me too," he said after you said nothing.

"I literally walked down here holding your hand, Georgie-"

"Georgie? Already on nicknames are we?"

"You've been calling me dove for ages!"

A grin creeped on to his face, "Ah, that I have."

Butterflies were swirling ferociously in your stomach.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

You scoffed, "C'mon, boyfriend, if we stay away any longer Fred will think we're shagging."

"I'm not opposed to that, we can if you wa-"

"George."

"Okay, okay, we can go back."

***

Honestly, you couldn't wait to write your weekly letter to Anisa, informing her of the new revelation and how it would help you learn more about Fred for her. Only, you never got the chance to.

"Miss L/N, could you come with me, please?" McGonagall interrupted your potions lesson, which you shared with the twins, "Bring your bag, I doubt you'll be returning."

"Is it really so important that Miss L/N must miss some of my lesson?" Snape drawled, his arms folded in front of his chest.

"Yes, Professor Snape," the woman replied harshly, "I apologise for disturbing your class." You could tell she wasn't apologetic.

You felt your stomach drop as you gathered up your things and followed the Gryffindor head out of class, wondering what she wanted you for. She didn't say anything all the way to the office, but she didn't need to as all was revealed when she opened the door.

"Anisa!" you exclaimed, rushing forward to pull your best friend into a hug. You felt her laugh as you did it. "Are you all better? Is your heart good?"

She nodded, unable to wipe the grin off her face, "Yup. The magic therapy worked faster than expected, and I didn't want to miss the Christmas season at Hogwarts."

You rolled your eyes, knowing she wasn't stating the real reason she was in a rush to get back because of McGonagall's presence. "I've missed you, you stupid bi-" you stopped your sentence, guiltily looking back at the professor who simply gave you a stern look.

"Run along, you two, I'm sure there's many other people that'll want to see Miss Deshpande again."

"Yes, professor," you both chorused, hurrying past her and out the door.

"And congratulations on your recovery, Miss Deshpande!" McGonagall called after you.

"Thank you!" Anisa shouted back.

You rushed until you were around the corner of the corridor.

"I didn't want to miss the Christmas season," you mocked, "Bullshit. You didn't want to miss a certain Weasley, you lying bitch."

Anisa whacked your arm playfully, "Shut up! What if he's around here somewhere?"

You laughed, "He's in the potions class I just got taken out of, relax."

"Mm, and who else is in that class, huh?" she gave you a shit-eating grin, "Maybe another certain Weasley." She wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you hit her.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" she laughed, just as Angelina rounded the corner.

"Anisa!" the girl beamed, running forward to bring your best friend into her arms.

Anisa embraced Angelina happily, "Angie! So good to see you."

"Is your heart...?"

You both nodded at her, making her hug Anisa again.

"Thank Godric! I've been so worried."

"We all have a lot of catching up to do," Anisa said, looping her arms through you and Angelina's as you continued to walk down the hallway.

***

You were so busy eagerly chatting that you all sat on the Gryffindor table together, eating dinner and updating on the weeks spent apart: you and Anisa on one side, Angelina sat opposite. For some reason, it hadn't yet come up that you had begun dating George - you didn't know how, you'd been looking for a good opportunity to slip it in.

"Hello," two almost identical voices said in synchronisation, making Anisa tense up beside you. You gently nudged her, and she relaxed ever so slightly as you turned around to face the twins.

George's lips stretched into a smile when you looked at him. He leaned down to give you a peck before sitting next to you. "Hey, dove."

"Hi-"

"Oh, you didn't think to tell me?" Anisa said loudly, but you could hear that there was no malice in her tone.

"I didn't get a chance, okay?"

She rolled her eyes at you jokingly.

"Deshpande, you're back," Fred said, sitting next to her, "Where've you been?"

You watched as Anisa grew flustered at her crush noticing her, and smiled to yourself. Of course, nothing you did got past George: he quickly pieced things together.

"It's her that fancies him, isn't it?" he whispered into your ear.

You found yourself nodding before whispering back, "You can thank her crush for bringing us together."

He grinned, wrapping his arm around you and kissing your cheek. "Better show my appreciation, then."

***

One of your new favourite spots to hang out was a random section of the many Hogwarts corridors, where not many people ventured. It was a cosy spot, especially since the architecture of the walls provided decently sized ledges to sit on.

You were laid down on one of them with one of your legs dangling over the edge, watching as Anisa talked to Fred awkwardly on the opposite side of the corridor where they sat on the floor against the wall. Smiling to yourself, you turned to look where George was and saw the school camera he had borrowed pointing in your direction, with him adorning a ghost of a smirk behind it.

"Merlin, stop filming me all the time," you said half-jokingly, covering your face.

"Sorry, dove, I can't resist. You're so pretty."

You felt heat rush to your ears.

George stopped filming and put the camera next to your accumulation of bags, then walking to you and lifting you up slightly so he could sit with your head on his lap. You didn't object to being moved around, and couldn't help but beam up at him after you had gotten comfortable.

"I just think you're the only thing worth filming."

You rolled your eyes.

"I do, I genuinely do."

"Fuck's sake, you're making me feel soft," you whined, making him chuckle.

"Good," he spared a glance towards his brother and your best friend to check they weren't listening, "Is it so bad I want to keep a permanent memory of the way we make each other feel?"

You sighed, ignoring the hurricane of butterflies beating against your skin from the inside, "No, I s'pose not."

——————————————

i was gonna kill anisa off for a hot minute lmao

masterlist

written; 05/11/2022 —> 12/11/2022 published; 13/11/2022 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #weasley #weasley twins #hp #hp oneshot #harry potter #hp fanfic #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfic #fluff #fanfic #weasley fanfic

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hqcampus · 1 year

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É hora de ir pra sala! A aplicação de Charity Burbage foi aceita. Player, o link do servidor será enviado em alguns minutos, fique atento ao seu chat e bom jogo!

Seja bem vinda à mais um ano letivo, CHARITY BURBAGE! Li na sua ficha que você é um MULHER CISGÊNERO, tem 23 ANOS e veio de LIVERPOOL/INGLATERRA para estudar BIOLOGIA. Além disso, o pessoal da RAVENCLAW disse que você se parece muito com SCARLETT LEITHOLD. Será que é verdade? Uma coisa eu sei: só de te olhar eu já sei que você é RUDE, mas também é muito LEAL. Que bom te ver por aqui, CHERRY!

#aceitos.

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crystallineeyesrp · 3 years

Text

The Summer After School ft. Cherry Valentine

“It’s a record shop, not a cemetery.” Charity grinned at her friend’s reverence to the location. In all honestly, Charity did believe music should be treated as such. So to watch how Cherry moved through the aisles was a relief of sorts, if not a lesson in delicateness. No, she herself was observant, but all but delicate. “And you actually have to touch them to see all the different ones.” From the same stack, Charity expelled two albums by hand...from the D section apparently. “Have a look, then? @rvmovrs

#c cherry #charity burbage #cherrity rights

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the-ever-humming-girl · 3 years

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Atlantis: General Mayhem

It was supposed to be an uneventful weekend. A quiet gathering of the expedition’s core crew members before their scheduled departure. Though it was shaping up to be anything but. The last time the crew had been at Whitmore manor was just before the Iceland expedition and things hadn’t gone exactly to plan. This time around there were a few new rules in place that would hopefully keep history from repeating itself.

Though Helga Sinclair had her doubts that a list of rules could keep certain people in line she had dutifully corralled them in the library of Whitmore manor after they’d arrived. She didn’t want to give them the chance to disperse to their rooms or she’d end up having to track them all down.

The seven of them were currently seated around the room, waiting in confusion for her to explain exactly why she had them there.

Sweet settled into his wingback chair and frowned. “I thought Mr. Whitmore was going to be talking to us?”

Packard, seated on the end of the couch, tapped cigarette ash into the silver tray on the table at her elbow. “And shouldn’t commander Rourke be here as well?”

Helga sighed and wondered if this wasn’t above her considerable pay grade.

“I was asked to have a word with you all upon your arrival.” She explained.

The staff remembered well what had happened three years earlier and other than contributing to the list Helga now held in her hand they had declined to take part any further. She couldn’t blame them. She’d been a by stander to the chaos before and would have preferred to avoid what she had a feeling was coming this time as well.

She clasped her hands behind her back and continued. “Given how this group’s last visit turned out Mr. Whitmore has implemented a few rules and asked that I pass them along.”

There was a loud snap of bubblegum from where Audrey sat, and she crossed her arms defensively. “Hey, leave me out of this. I’ve never been here before.”

Milo frowned and nodded in agreement. “Same. This is my first visit.”

Helga nodded. “Audrey and Milo, you’re excused. This list, although short is aimed mostly at Vinny, Cookie, and Moliere.”

She gave the three of them a hard stare.

Vinny raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Hey, what’d I do?”

From his seat by the fireplace Cookie spoke up. “Yeah, blondie, what’d we do?”

Moliere, who had been inching toward a potted fig tree, stopped to look indignant. “I have done nothing wrong. This is an outrage!”

Outraged was his favorite thing to be it seemed. Tell him who his bunkmate would be? Outrage. Inform him Cookie would not be adding crepes to the expedition’s menu? Outrage. Remind him of his crimes against the local flora? Outrage.

Audrey leaned back in her chair and looked at Vinny. “What did you do?”

Milo leaned forward and looked at Cookie and Moliere. “Yeah, I’m curious about that too.”

Helga sighed as she felt the conversation begin to evolve beyond her control. Sweet gave her a sympathetic look and started to speak but was interrupted by Cookie.

“If I recollect correctly, blondie, you were part of the group’s last visit.” He placed heavy emphasis on the last two words.

Helga sighed. “Firstly, Cookie, I have a name. Secondly, while I was part of the group’s last visit, I played no part in the antics, as you know full well.”

Packard ground out her cigarette and immediately lit up another. “Can we go now?” She asked, sounding bored, as always.

Helga resisted the urge to massage her temples. She could feel a tension headache coming on and she rolled her shoulders a few times to loosen the tense muscles. Then she cleared her throat for attention.

Silence fell.

“The sooner we get through this, the sooner you can get to your rooms.” She told them, unfolding the list she held.

“Cookie, Mrs. Seagraves has asked that you kindly stay out of her kitchen. She has enough staff to worry about as it is and would like to avoid any future altercations.”

In response, Cookie made a dismissive noise and crossed his arms. “The dang woman can’t take criticism. She doesn’t know how to use lard properly.”

It was on the tip of Helga’s tongue to ask how the hell you could misuse lard but realized that would be contributing to the derailment of the conversation.

“Just stay a out of the kitchen.” She told him firmly and moved on before he had a chance to protest further.

“Vinny, Jameson has asked that I inform you the wine cellar is out of bounds. Also, the testing of any explosives on the grounds is strictly prohibited.”

While the first rule was from the butler the second had come from her. Really, the man was a bodyguard’s worst nightmare.

Vinny shrugged. “Okay, I was just making sure he had the right pairings. And what about cherry bombs?”

She stared him down. “The dinner menus are meticulously planned. There’s no need to worry. And no cherry bombs.”

He chewed the end of a match thoughtfully. “They’re so small you’d hardly notice...”

The man was exasperating.

“Not even a Black Cat.” She informed him.

He shrugged again but didn’t argue. Thank heavens for small miracles.

She moved down the list.

“Moliere, I have personal pleas from the gardeners, Mr. Maltby and Mr. Burbage, not to allow you within one hundred and fifty feet of the conservatory. I am also to tell you that digging holes in the lawn is not allowed.”

Why they thought she had any control over Gaetan Moliere was beyond her. And out of the three, she’d put money on Moliere as being the first to disregard the rules. He was already poking around in the plant he’d been stood by. He turned to look at her.

“No digging? This is an outrage”

What a surprise.

“You’ll live.” Helga told him unfeelingly. She wanted to wrap things up now that the list was done. “That’s it, then.” She told them. “You’re all free to go.”

Audrey raised her hand.

“Yes?”

“What about the garage, is that off limits?”

Milo raised his hand eagerly. “And the library, are we free to stay in here if we want?”

It looked as though she wouldn’t be getting out of there so easily.

“Library and garage are open, as you are both are experts in your fields of work.”

She’d liked Manuel and Thaddeus and felt confident they’d passed their wealth of skills and knowledge to their successors.

“I’ve never worked with either of you, but I have worked with your father and grandfather, and I trusted them. I will now pass that trust on to you.” She pointed at them both. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Helga paused and added an afterthought.

“Audrey, no dismantling the cars, if you please. The garage is my domain and I’d like to keep everything intact.”

Audrey squinted at her critically, looking her up and down.

“Something the matter?” Helga asked, wondering what she was looking at.

Audrey tilted her head to one side. “I’m having trouble imaging you under a car.”

Helga smiled. People usually did. Bodyguard and chauffer they could believe, with a little effort, grease money took a little more. “Well, you’ll find I’m full of surprises. One does not drive an expensive car without knowing how it works.”

Audrey nodded approvingly.

Next to her, Milo had sat and listened in amazement the entire time as Helga read through the list and answered each question fired at her without hesitation.

“Is she usually like this?” He asked Audrey in a stunned whisper. She hadn’t been all that talkative when she’d met him at his apartment.

Audrey shrugged. “Beats me, it’s my papi that worked with her before. He got along with her okay as far as I know, though he did say she was a stickler for rules.”

Behind them, Sweet leaned forward with a chuckle. “She’s not usually this would up, but she’s in lecture mode right now. She can’t help it. She’s an army brat and she’s got five younger brothers.”

Milo and Audrey turned to Helga in unison.

“Five younger brothers?” They exclaimed.

Helga sighed. She needed a drink.

#30 days of writing prompts #atlantis: the lost empire #helga sinclair #audrey ramirez #milo thatch #joshua sweet #vinny santorini #mrs packard #mole #cookie #and the world goes 'round #my fanfics #fanfiction.net #ao3

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lovencharity · 3 years

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( paulina singer | cis-woman | she/her ) — was that CHARITY BURBAGE passing through diagon alley? yes, i think so… people around them say they remind them of stacks of vinyl records, torn pages from a book, waves crashing on jagged rocks, long winding roads, peace signs painted on buildings, which i suppose seems to fit that RAVENCLAW. they’re actually pretty RAW, UNREPENTANT, and EDGY for a TWENTY-FOUR year old, but i wonder if it serves them well when working as a occupation JUNIOR MUGGLE STUDIESPROFESSOR at HOGWARTS. have you heard that rumor has it that HALFBLOOD is a MEMBER for THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX? i wouldn’t have guessed… but this is a conversation we should be having somewhere else.

full name: Charity Aleksandra Burbage

nicknames: N/A unless someone tries

birthday: February 9, 1954

Age: 24

accent: A little cockney, but learned received pronunciation when it comes to English, Some Ukrainian,

sexuality: bisexual

relationship status: Single

positive traits: unrepentant, astute, observant

negative traits: raw, edgy, prolix

patronus: Friesian Horse

wand type: Cherry Wood with Unicorn Hair, Nine Inches

A fire was burning….

Somewhere in London near the Old Spitalfields marketplace, Charity Burbage grew up with her wizard father and muggle mother. She was much closer to her mother. The woman indulged her daughter’s natural curiosity and recognized her brilliance from a young age…but even she couldn’t keep the child indoors.

Surely, Charity was intelligent and well-read, but the loud bustle of the city called to her. And soon, she found herself fully emerged in the different cultures and styles surrounding the city in the 60s and 70s. She loved the earthiness of hippies, the grit of the punks, the devil-may-care of the new wave.

But she was excited for Hogwarts and found herself immersing into the wizarding world in the fall, but diving headfirst into the excitement summers brought her in the muggle world. It was those dynamics that drew her to muggle studies, that drew her to speak loudly of her beliefs. Charity Burbage did not give a shit what you thought of her.

So follow her through the streets of London-town or through the halls of Hogwarts as she will literally make her mark where she sees fit. She’ll ask you questions until the answer satisfies her and expect the same from you.

She was all about critique and being critical of the world around her. Surely, sometimes that made her a little quick to judge, especially for someone considered to be so open minded. But reading people quickly was really the only option she had. So that applied everywhere, to friends, to teachers, to leaders, to politicians.

In some ways, behaving that way felt safer. She kept a few close to her, but never really indulged in why. That would take much more to get out of her. Parts of it are fear of course, for her friends, and her mother especially.

Charity knows she is not a ‘fighter’. Not physically. She can provide intellect, and questions. But it’s place in this magical society feels less valued. Charity is a girl with just as many answers as questions, if only people would listen.

Post Hogwarts, suddenly she was lost. Muggle friends were all at university or traveling elsewhere and school friends were suddenly in training or apprenticing. At a standstill, a brilliant girl couldn’t make a decision. For a year, she found herself apparating, when she could, just to new places. Until suddenly, magic seemed pointless - she took trains. The time to think was time well spent. It was also around time that stories in the paper were becoming more troubling. For most of her youth, she thought these things were contained to arguments where she often has the upper hand. The world as she saw it now, frankly, had even less stark differences to her muggle life.

Maybe Hogwarts was the safe option; for her, for her mother, for her father even. Maybe at Hogwarts, Charity Alexandra Burbage would find what she sought in reason and discussion. Afterall, she’d spent years making rather socratic arguments over the world she experienced. Now on track to become the youngest Muggle Studies Professor, Charity call to young minds is a near revamp of how the subject had always been taught - and some are happier than others.

For as likely as she is to engage in deep meaningful conversation with you, she will not hesitate to outsmart and outwit you if her battle calls for it.

–

Aesthetics:

Long cardigans, loose curls falling in every direction, handmade jewelry, leather jackets, freckles known only to those close enough to see, corduroy trousers, vinyl records and band posters scattered on walls, snapped guitar strings, torn book pages shoved into a diary, a bedside table that looks more like a library, hopping subway turnstiles when the situation calls for it, setting up her own tutoring station in the library, clearing away glass mugs in an East London bar, silly photographs lining her bedroom, a book of spells specifically for charming permanent marks into walls

–

Sounds Like:

As Tears Go By; Marianne Faithfull, Cruel to be Kind; Nick Lowe, Big Yellow Taxi; Joni Mitchell, Warrior in Woolworths; X-Ray Spex, Monster; Paramore…..

Facts:

Her favorite musical artists are Marianne Faithfull

She can play most instruments, but its a jack-of-all trades, master-of-none situation

She used to paint Pro-Muggle and Muggleborn signs around campus, usually right on the stone walls and quidditch pitch.

She likes to take photographs of her friends lives. The style I imagine is very similar to that of Nan Goldin in the 80s.

There is a group of muggle friends she used to see regularly in the summers. Her relationship to them can be a little strained as there’s so much she isn’t allowed to tell them. They are a wild mix of universtiy students, artists, punks, hippies, etc.

Connection and Plot Ideas

THE CLOSE FRIENDS charity’s circle that she interacts with usually daily. They know her ins and outs. She is drawn to people who feels she engage in both mental and emotional states. She is talkative and likes to solve problems. They were an academic bunch, but they’re interests can diverge into many fields likely as they’ve grown.

open connection

THE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS Charity is a halfblood with wizard family on her father’s side. She would know some other wizard children, however she was much more engaged with the muggle world because she was closer to her mom growing up.

open connection

THE INSURGENTS Someone who works with her in all respects for her beliefs in changing the view anti-muggle and muggleborn sentiment. They started when they were in school, and have found a way to continue this into daily life.

open connection

THE SILENCER - Somebody trying incredibly hard to get her to shut up about her pro muggle and pro muggleborn talking points. It’s a real battle because she is so well spoken and so clever. This person is getting to the point of considering more extreme means to get her to stop. It could also be opposition to her position at the school, pretty flexible on this.

Open Connection

EXES Charity never dated much, but was always a little too mature for her age so relationships likely never made it very far. She was always a million miles away.

open connection

DECISION MAKER Charity was indecisive about her future. It’s a typical smart kid, told they were gifted when they were young and now they are suffering, type deal. This person thinks her skills are better put to use in the magical world. They may have even suggested she become a teacher…

open connection

FLING In some ways Charity is more suited to flings, she can be endearingly sweet but also finds her brain just moving too fast. She is someone who is hard to keep up with.

open connection

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE Wizard Pride and Prejudice, lets go. I’m flexible, this can have a different outcome I just think it would be fun that’s all.

open connection

#antem:intro #about

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