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emeritusemeritus · 6 months

Note

Hear me out! Possessive sex + Overstimulation + Brat Taming + Breeding. Both of the Weasley Twins please. 🤭

I just always have this thought of just teasing the shit out of them when they’re work and fleeing afterwards. It’s almost as if we took their job of teasing us, and I could just imagine how pent up and frustrated they can be when they can’t do anything since there’s kids and adults around. The joke shop is suppose to be an appropriate place especially when it’s meant mainly for kids..Perhaps, add a part where we purposefully flirt with one of our old classmates. You can choose who! If you don’t like this idea, I completely understand! Feel free to add some kinks if you like or story elements. 🫶

Hi Anon! I’m so sorry it has taken so long to get this out, writing has had to be on the back-burner for now but I’m slowly getting back! Sorry for the lack of smut, it’s more of the setup as I’m abit smutted out 🖤

Warnings: Sexual tension, brat behaviour, Dom!sub relationships, polyamory, teasing, sexual references, mild swearing. Flirting, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, breeding kink.

Word count: 2.5k

Wonder Witch

You knew what you were getting into the second you opened up your wardrobe and changed into the outfit you'd carefully prepared for today. Your husbands had already long since departed the flat to set up the shop for the day, leaving you just a little later to sleep in, which you were thankful for.

Today was the big launch of new wonder witch products that the twins had been tirelessly working on, perfecting the range ready for the big launch today. You'd helped with ordering violently pink balloons to decorate every orifice of the shop, had banners printed and had even managed to convince Madame Puddifoot's to make some limited edition iced biscuits for the celebration, all in the same sickening shade of pink.

The icing on the cake was the costume that you'd picked out ready to hand out and display the new items, recreating the wonder witch icon on the packaging.

The dress in itself wasn't too risky, an array of pink and gold overlapping fabric that fell just above your knee, with a pointed witches hat in a smilies style. But it also had exposed shoulders with dropped sleeves and a corseted middle which hoisted in your waist to create a rather dramatic shape, highlighting your hips in a way that you knew would drive your husbands crazy. You carefully curled your hair and applied a healthy dose of mascara to really make your eyes pop before applying an equally vibrant lipsticks that you'd found matched the colour of wonder witch perfectly. You added a little highlighter around your cheeks to give you a little bit more of a playful look and slipped on your shoes to really help bring the look together.

When you looked in the mirror, you were more than pleased with yourself. You looked hot.

Checking the clock, you saw that it was 8:53am, just in time for the store to open. You could hear the twins flapping, mainly George, the moment you opened the door towards the staircase. They were bustling ready for the big opening and the unsurprising lack of Verity meant that she was probably going to be late again.

"Angel can you put these products on the... shit." George says the second you walk down the stairs, noticing the outfit almost immediately.

"What's up with you?" Fred asks, walking over to George under the staircase until he comes into full view, noticing that his twin seems to be frozen on the spot. He turns, looking towards the direction George seems frozen at and you watch as his eyes widen also comically wide. "Holy Godric."

"Morning," you say cheerfully, leaning up to press a kiss to George's cheek before doing the same to Fred as they look at you in complete shock, mouths slightly parted. "Where do you want me?"

"Um," George says, clearing his throat though his eyes hardly move from the curve of your breasts, a prominent feature of your dress. You fight the urge to laugh, wanting to keep up your little innocent play, pretending that you had no idea why they were looking at you like that.

"You want these on the shelf?" You ask, batting your eyelashes at them, watching as Fred's tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

The little clock on the wall chimes, signalling the store opening, just as you bend down to grab the box of products and you look up with pouting lips, watching as the twins hardly react to the chimes.

"You gonna unlock the doors big boy?" You ask Fred with a singular raised eyebrows, noticing how he doesn't even attempt to pull out his wand. A frantic knock on the doors pulls him out of his thoughts and you all turn to see Verity knocking to be let it, surrounded by a large crowd of customers ready to shop the new products. You flash a little wink at George as Fred unlocks the doors with a flick of his wand, the fireworks and the tricks beginning all in perfect synchronisation. When you look back up after picking up the box of products and see your two men still staring at you, completely unaware of the swarm of customers bursting through the doors, you knew today was going to be fun.

The store was packed right from opening, a never-ending swarm of people crossing through the doors until the shop was almost too full of people, all wanting to get their hands on the new merchandise. It was an overwhelming success, the new line of wonder witch products and cosmetics and you were thankful, fortunate and insanely proud of your husbands for pulling off the ideas you'd created together. You should have been tired, drained from the day as it neared closing time but truthfully you were on an adrenaline high, on cloud nine from teasing your husbands all day and seeing their increasing desperation.

All day you'd made sure to be a little bit of a brat, an utter tease whilst trying to portray yourself as an innocent Angel- something you knew for a fact that they didn't believe in the slightest.

George was easier to rile up, always quicker to respond to your more subtle teasing. You'd brushed past him a number of times today, the packed shop only aiding your need to slowly brush your ass against the front of his trousers as you squeezed past him or to pass something up to Verity on the stairs, ensuring that he got a face full of cleavage as you stretched up. You'd caught him staring at you more times today than you could count on all your extremities, especially when you climbed the stairs above him, ensuring that he knew your bare thighs were right above him.

Fred didn't always respond to subtlety, so you knew your efforts had to be boosted when it came to him. You'd purposely licked and sucked at one of the dark mark lollipops in the most outrageous way whenever he was paying attention and you'd even heard him choke on his own spit when he noticed.

You knew you had him when you were explaining to a group of seventh year girls about the patented daydream charms and how how they worked, passing out the colourful boxes items around the group as they accepted them with eager and curious eyes.

"Up to thirty minutes of pure, blissful imagination; let me tell you it will create a very realistic daydream of your choice so you know that boy you're crushing on? You're going to have the best thirty minutes of your life."

You're met with a round of playful giggles as you smile at them, knowing you were in for a good sale.

"Have you used it?" One of the girls asks and you nod eagerly with a smirk, knowing that Fred was just behind you from the way you could feel his presence, hearing him talk only moments before.

"Not since I married him," you say with a smirk as you receive another round of girlish giggles. "Between us, those thirty minutes with Fred were some of my most imaginative creations, believe me these little things are special," you say, twisting the box in your hands. "Just don't tell George." You watch as the girls' eyes light up and they quickly shove them in their baskets. You turn then, catching Fred's eye as he pretends not to have been listening and you act as if you're bashful about what he might have heard, placing a strand of hair nervously behind your ear as you walk away, making sure to sway your hips ever so slightly, knowing he'd be watching.

By lunchtime, you'd effortlessly riled them up to a point that it was so painfully obvious what they were trying to hide that you found yourself biting back a smirk for most of the day. They were so easily and deeply affected that it was rather fun to watch, but none more so than when Dean Thomas came into the shop just after the dinner time rush. You'd taken a quick break and had reapplied your lipstick, carefully checking you appearance before you walked down the stairs back to work. Dean had been talking to both of your lives near the stairs when he spotted you, eyes briefly widening as he took in your appearance. Unfortunately for him, Fred had been mid sentence and had definitely noticed Dean checking you out, making his go silent and cause a thunderous look to cross his face.

"Y/n, hi! It's good to see you!" Dean smiles as you approach them all, careful to avoid looking at the faces of your husbands who had now both caught on to Dean's over-pleasant demeanour.

"Dean, good to see you too!"

"You look good! Who knew that y/n (*maiden name) would become wonder witch!" His hands gesture towards your outfit and then to the display of new products to the side with your likeness on.

"It's Weasley," both twins said a little too quickly, in perfect synchronisation, making you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop a laugh spilling out at their obvious jealously.

"Of course," Dean says somewhat absently, not picking up on the sudden hostility aimed at him by the shop-owners. "So what have you been up to? Do you see the others much?"

"Didn't ask us this many questions," you hear George mumble under his breath to Fred, who has crossed his arms across his chest and is hardly blinking, watching Dean closely.

"The usual," you smile, shooting a fleeting glance at your two husbands who's red faces seem to match their hair. "Keeping these two in line, keeping the shop afloat," you joke.

"So no little Weasley's running about yet?"

You could almost sense the little eye twitch George did at the words and you were certain that Fred seemed to stand even straighter, making himself even taller to tower over Dean.

"Hopefully soon," you say, biting your lip and George's eyes flicker to you with a fire in them, your words affecting him more easily than you'd anticipated. Fred seemed to incidentally lose his footing and was knocked off balance for a second, breaking the rather playful mood that had settled between you and Dean.

After Dean had left with a few things he'd come for, you finally accepted your fate and let the veil slip enough to drop the innocent act you'd been playing all day. Fred had cornered you beside the till, a stolen moment of peace as you reached high up to re-stock the daydreams, flashing him with a glimpse of your stocking.

"Really Freddie?" You pretended to admonish as you felt his rather prominent evidence of arousal against your hip as he started to get grabby with you, nearing the end of his restraint. "This is a respected establishment Mr Weasley, there are children about!"

You shuffled past him with a little tut, hiding your smirk behind your hair, leaving him stranded with mouth agape at your sudden boldness. George wasn't faring much better, his eyes still fixed on the curve of your breasts whenever he caught a glimpse, silently watching you rile him up further and further as your act slipped away.

With one last attempt at completely flipping the switch inside of them, throwing them over the metaphorical cliff, you doubled down your efforts. It was nearly closing time and you walked slyly over to the cash register whilst George was cashing up for the night and began stretching, pointing out your chest and making some very questionable noises. You adjusted the little cold shoulder straps on your dress and readjusted your breasts in the dress, sensing your attentive audience of George who was close by and Fred who had stopped what he was doing to watch you from across the shop. You suddenly turned and walked behind George, placing your hand on his hip as you squeezed past to reach for a carrier bag, carefully dragging your hand over his lower back as you leaned down. When you began to turn and walk away, you felt a large hand shoot out and grab your wrist.

“Angel.”

His tone was clear and clipped, telling you everything you needed to do.

“I know exactly what you’re doing,” he says, moving to stand behind you in the near empty shop, an obvious erection pressing into your behind. “Keep going little brat, you’re only fuelling the fire.”

When he lets you go and turns back to his task with no other reaction, you knew it was time to slip away. You rushed up the stairs, carefully avoiding both of them, ready for the next step of the plan. You’d prepped dinner on your lunch break, wanting to get ahead for the night and flicked the oven on with a flick of your wand as soon as you made it upstairs. You kicked off your shoes, pulled off your panties and waited, busying yourself to ward off the desperate arousal you were feeling, anticipating a good but long night ahead.

As soon as you heard the familiar, incoming footsteps on the landing, you bent over in your skirt to slip the pie into the oven, giving them quite a show when they walked in.

“Fucking Godric,” you heard Fred exclaim when he stepped through the door, followed by a similar curse only moments later by his twin as they see your pussy on full display for them, peeking out from below the short skirt as you bend over.

“Princess,” he says, beginning to stalk over to you as you pulled yourself up, closing the oven. You looked at them innocently, big doe-eyes and fluttering lashes as you watched them darkly approach you.

“You were naughty today,” George says, his hand reaching out to cup the back of your neck as he pulls you into a devastatingly sinful kiss that immediately makes your nipples harden under the dress. You gasp into his mouth when you suddenly feel a hand creeping up your inner thigh, underneath your dress.

“Remember what you said to Dean, princess?” Fred asks, voice dangerously low, prompting you to nod whilst trying to catch your breath. You knew exactly what you’d said, what you’d hoped for.

“Reckon we should start now?” He asks, his hand ghosting over the curve of your ass, feeling the bare flesh underneath his fingers. “Want you knocked up right fucking now.”

“Agreed,” George adds, somehow looking and sounding ever darker and more determined than Fred. George suddenly reaches out and turns off the oven with a harsh flick of his wrist, smirking when you look up at him in confusion at him turning off the oven.

“We’re not gonna be done with you that soon,” he says with a devilish smirk. “Gonna cum in you over and over, taking turns filling you. There’s gonna be so much cum in you that you won’t know where you start and we end, get you all round from us. Now.”

“Get on the bed.”

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emeritusemeritus · 5 months

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Can you write a Fred x reader where reader is a slytherin student and older than Fred so they never really encounter eachother since they not in the same year level. Until one day they got jinxed/ got into some sort of incidents/ prank (whatever you could think of!) where they are tied together until the spell expires itself. So during the time they get to know eachother and get attracted by eachother flirtatious and witty personalities. But when the spell expires both of them feel like there’s no reason to hang out with eachother anymore so none of them make a move until Fred gets jealous over someone asking reader to Yule ball and then they both confess and happy ending?? Thank you so much!!

Hi love! I’m sorry this took so long, but I had so much fun writing this, hope it’s okay! 🖤

Warnings: pranks, minor swearing, banter, finger jokes, fluff and humour. Sorry Miles Bletchley.

Just a reminder to anyone reading that my requests are currently closed, these are ones that I received a while back that I haven’t had time to write until now.

Word count: 3.1k

Ties that bind.

“Neville, NO!”

It's the last thing you hear before you're unceremoniously dragged through the air completely weightless until you crash into a rather solid frame, disorientated and wholeheartedly perplexed. To make matters much, much worse, when you try to pull yourself away, you realise quickly that you can't move even a foot away from the person you'd inadvertently barrelled into.

"Blimey," you hear someone say from behind you but you can hardly twist enough to look for yourself who it is. You begin to struggle against the invisible confines, beginning to panic about the lack of freedom as a crowd begins to gather around you.

"Bloody Neville," the person directly in front of you curses and for the first time you finally look up, taking in the person you were seemingly attached to. One of the Weasley twins.

"I told you not to touch it!" The other, near identical boy says, reaching to grab something from Neville Longbotton's hands as he stands frozen, shocked at what he'd apparently conjured.

"George undo it now," the boy in front of you says rather harshly, announcing himself to be Fred Weasley. You watch as George fumbles with whatever Neville had previously occupied, a trick wand of sorts that looked flimsy and poorly made. You wait with baited breath as George attempts no less than four times to reverse the spell but the increasingly frustrated and bewildered look upon his face only increases with each attempt, making your hopes of freedom dwindle to almost nothing.

"Longbottom what the bloody hell did you do? What is that thing?" You say for the first time, an annoyed expression evident across your face. For the first time, Fred looks down at you from his ridiculous height and stares for a moment, ginger lashes blinking as he looks upon your face. You avert your eyes at the rather intimate distance between your and the Weasley twin and instead chose to focus your icy glare upon Neville who's eyes visibly widen under your stare before he scuttles off.

"It's a trick wand," you hear from directly above you, Fred's unexpectedly soft voice explaining what the malfunctioning device his twin is wildly throwing around is. "It was loaded with a leg binding jinx but apparently we underestimated Neville's lack of ability with magic."

"It's just his bad wand," you reply absently, almost coming to his defensive but quickly pausing when you see Fred suddenly look at you in confusion as your uncharacteristic leniency of the Gryffindor student.

"How long does it take to wear off?" You ask in a mild huff, realising that nothing George was doing would be able to undo the jinx.

"Um well that's the thing," he says hesitantly, causing you to whip your head round to face him as soon as you heard his nervous tone. "It should expire in about 6 or 7 hours."

"7 hours?!" You ask, eyes wide. "But I have potions in-."

"Yeah that's not happening," George says, moving to stand beside you both. It appears the group surrounding you had dispersed, leaving you alone with only both twins in the corridor between the Great hall and the staircases. "Unless you drag him with you."

"I'm going nowhere near potions or Severus grease face."

"So what do we do now?"

Five hours you'd been tethered to Fred Weasley by an invisible bind that still showed no sign of relenting. You'd found weak points of the bind and had managed to untangle yourselves just far enough that you were able to sit directly in front of each other, legs touching and somewhat entwined but at least you weren't stuck on top of eachother like before. You'd found sanctuary in the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor, escaping from teachers and students alike until the jinx wore off. You'd been pleasantly surprised when he pulled out a head boy pin from his trouser pocket once you were out of sight of the statue of Boris the Bewildered and had recited the password perfectly to allow you access to the usually restricted area.

"My brother Percy hasn't noticed it's missing yet," he smirked as you looked at him in question, watching him try to slip the badge back into his trouser pocket with a little difficulty thanks to the close quarters between the two of you.

The first hour had been awkward to say the least, with neither of you saying much and desperate to get away. It was embarrassing, humiliating and more than anything you just wanted to run back to your common room but after another hour of torturous silence, he began talking.

The third hour passed quickly and you'd found that he was actually really funny and sincere, much calmer than you'd ever expected him to be. You didn't know him, not really but you'd seen him on the quidditch pitch and heard all about the infamous Weasley twins and their pranks which was intimidating to say the least. You'd figured he couldn't do much more to you than what you were already experiencing and he'd not made any attempt to trick you in the few hours you'd spent together.

The fourth and fifth hour had you both hysterically laughing as you recited your best impressions of the hogwarts teachers, his awful madeye moody impression clearly taking the prize for worst impression ever to be made. You'd gotten surprisingly comfortable on the tile floor, your head resting in his lap though your knees were bent to allow room for the invisible shackles. The conversation had turned to a heart to heart after a few hours of laughter and you found that he was opening up rather easily to you, with lingering looks and shared glances you hoped you hadn't imagined.

“Ask me something personal,” he says with a fleeting smile, looking up from his place on your lap. You’d switched places nearly half an hour ago, with his head now resting against your legs, soft, long fingers hair fanning out across your thighs.

You pause for a moment, thinking of what to ask. “What's your mum like?”

He huffs out a breath of laughter, like an inside joke replaying in his head and you watch as a smirk tugs at the side of his lips.

“My mum,” he begins to say with a smile on his full lips, hesitating for only a minute. “She's a fierce lady, great cook, loving… Sometimes a little pushy.”

“There's seven of you!” You jump to defend her, having learnt all about his siblings from the previous hours of conversation. “Two of them being you and George, I might add, maybe she has to be to keep you in line,” you laugh.

“You may have a point there,” he smirks up at you, staring right into your eyes until you feel yourself get lost in his hazel orbs.

“What about you?”

“Hm?” You ask, your lashes fluttering as you try to blink out of your little daydream whilst being absorbed in looking for the golden flecks in his eyes, praying to Salazar himself that he hadn’t noticed.

“Your mum,” he says, completely oblivious to your gaze.

“Oh,” you frown, feeling a sudden weight upon your shoulders at the very mention of your mother, all lightness and whimsy of the situation gone. “She's well respected… proud Slytherin, beautiful.”

“Guess she passed something on to her daughter then,” Fred smirks, quirking his eyebrow at you and you laugh, nudging him gently with your knee. “Smooth Weasley,” you joke, watching as he settles back down on your leg, one bulging arm coming to rest under his shaggy red hair, his school shirt rolled up to display his veiny, bulging forearm….

“Are all your family redheads?” You ask, prying your gaze away from the slightly freckled patch of skin that seemed to be drawing your attention like gold to a niffler.

“Yeah, have to squint looking at all family photos because it's like looking into straight fire,” he jokes and you can’t help but laugh along, laughing more when you see his head bobbing slightly with your movement. His hair looks unbelievably soft and smooth, like it was perfectly styled to look natural, the pure gold and copper strands standing out against the rest in the faint light.

"So you're Ginger-bred," you add, laughing at your own terrible joke. A burst of laughter spills from him, louder than you’d ever heard and you watch him in slight amazement as he shifts, now sitting up and facing you once again, the place in your lap where his head had been resting now feeling a little empty and cold.

“That was a good one actually, might have to tell George that one.”

“Your doppel-ginger?” Another burst of magical laughter echoes around the room and you watch with a proud smile on your face knowing it was you that was making him laugh like this.

“That one is definitely being passed on, never heard that before”.

“Are all your family Gryffindors?” You ask, turning your head to the side slightly, breaking the momentarily comfortable silence.

“Yeah, though I'd look good in green don't you think?” He winks, gesturing to your Slytherin robes.

“I don't know,” you pause, teasing as you look at him, watching carefully as he follows your eyes. “I guess it's lucky for you that you're so tall, wearing green with your hair... people might think you're a leprechaun.”

“Har-har,” he laughs sarcastically, rolling his eyes in a teasing way but from the smile on his face, he’s far from hurt by your banter.

“So, Yule ball’s coming up,” he begins to say but he’s cut off when you suddenly feel a weight taken off of your limbs, the resistance you’d gotten used to quickly wearing off. You gingerly try to prey your leg further from the point you’d both worked out was the farthest you could go, and to your amazement, you can stretch as far as your limbs can go.

You stand, overwhelmed with relief that the jinx had worn off, wasting no time before stretching and throwing your arms about like a wild man.

Fred laughs and joins in with your excited spin, both of you looking like pure idiots in the middle of the prefects bathroom, dancing around with no music and ecstatic smiles on your faces.

You finally stop, the laughter slowly fading as you feel him pull you in for a hug, his arms stretching around your shoulder with relative ease.

“Thank you for being my date today,” he says cheekily with a full bow as he reaches out for your hand, acting formally.

“It was my pleasure sir,” you play along, thrusting your hand into his as he playfully reaches down to kiss the back of your hand.

“Reckon your potions class is long since finished,” he says, gathering the backpack he’d thrown down in the corner with your book bag. From the lack of light outside, it’s obvious that it’s well past school hours, the entire afternoon spent hiding away with Fred.

You snort, “what a shame.”

“You know, for a Slytherin you’re alright,” he teases.

“Shut up gingerbread, which one are you again?”

He reaches out for you but you manage to scamper as he holds open the door for you both to walk through, hoping you can make it out without anyone seeing you.

You make it right up the corridor towards the staircases before it becomes painfully obvious that you’re parting ways, both of your common rooms in opposite directions.

You turn, just out of sight of the staircases and wait with baited breath for him to hopefully make a move, hoping that you hadn’t read it wrong.

There’s a few moments when both of you stare at each other, neither knowing what to do or say and you watch as his eyes travel across your face, to your lips and then away, the tension breaking.

“Well, bye then,” he says, though there’s a hint of emotion in his voice that sounds almost like sadness or hesitation.

“Oh, bye Fred,” you try your hardest to appear neutral but it’s too hard, you can’t help but hear the disappointment slipping through your tone. He turns away and you take the hint, also turning in the opposite direction as you enter the hall of staircases, tracking them to get where you need to go. You feel eyes upon you but when you turn, you see that he’s walking upwards on one of the staircases, not looking at you. You hang on for as long as you can, trying to spot him each time you join a new moving staircase, watching the red hair eventually fade out of view until you reach the opening to the dungeons.

Two weeks pass and unsurprisingly you hear nothing from Fred, though you seem to be acutely more aware of his presence around school. You hear his voice, hear his laughter and even the passing rumours seem to reach you much more than before, retellings of him and George’s latest prank. You can’t help but search for his red hair in the sea of Gryffindor’s in the great Hall and try to look out for him between classes like a lost puppy. It was amazing really, you’d gone from hardly knowing him, and certainly not knowing him from his twin to being able to completely distinguish him and George apart even with a brief glance.

You told no one of this, naturally, glad that Neville’s misdemeanour hadn’t reached the whole school and that you’d come away largely unscathed, in terms of your reputation. Neville had avoided you at all costs, bumping into you once with panic in his eyes and lasting no more than two seconds before retreating sharpish.

You were gutted, thinking that you’d made an actual connection with him but apparently not, it was just situational. So you did the only thing you could do and return to your life before you’d encountered Fred Weasley, trying to put away any memories or feelings you felt, though you couldn’t deny your life felt that little less exciting now you knew what it was like to spend time with him.

“Y/n?” You turn towards the sound of your name being called, all hope leaving your body quickly when you realise it isn’t him, that it’s Miles Bletchley, a fellow Slytherin that was in the year below you.

“Hi gorgeous,” he says with a smile but you don’t reciprocate, instead fixing him with a slight face of disgust, lips pursing at the nickname.

“Bletchley,” you greet him, making his surname sound as vomitious as possible, which wasn’t a hard task. He was far from the worst Slytherins, keeper on the Quidditch team and an overall nice enough guy but his body language was putting you off completely. Cocky, running his hand through his hair, throwing his weight about.

“So I was wondering if you had a date to the Yule Ball? Gorgeous girl like you has already been claimed but doesn’t hurt to ask right?” He winks.

“Claimed?” You repeat in disgust at his turn of phrase. Your apparently disgust and overall lack of a reply doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightly as he shrugs, a stupid smirk tugging at the side of his thin, chapped lips.

“Figured I’d shoot my shot,” he chuckles, as if he’d made a witty comment that he was so proud of.

“Figure you should stick to goalkeeping, if that’s the shot you’re taking, your aim’s well off,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you turn, walking away from him in a proud sweep, only to tumble into the front of someone seconds after.

Fred.

You open your mouth to greet him but simply pull back slightly, feeling the loss of his large hands around the top of your arms where he’d previously held you. It’s evident he’d seen all of your interaction with Miles, and that he wasn’t too pleased about it.

His gaze is hard and predatory as he glares at Bletchley, giving such a harsh look that it makes you freeze, until he looks at you and his eyes fall soft again. Before you can mutter an apology and walk away, he does something that surprises you, he smiles and speaks.

“So Yule Ball, no keepers, but how about a beater?” He asks with a smirk, but instead of Bletchley’s Lockhart-esque smarmy routine, this one is genuine. He flicks his eyes towards Bletchley’s frame, dragging on your rejection from the Slytherin Keeper. “Gryffindor though of course.” He flashes you a wide smile, his eyes shining as he winks at you and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face involuntarily.

“Oh, George needs a date?” You tease, watching from under your lashes at the myriad of expressions that cross his face in under three seconds. At first he’s shocked, then disheartened, then humoured by your little teasing.

“Funny girl,” he shoots back, the mischievous glint in his eyes turning positively devilish.

“What do you say? May I take the wittiest, prettiest girl in all of Hogwarts to the Ball?” He bows down just as he had that day in the bathroom and gestures for your hand once more.

“You may,” you reply, beaming with joy as you place your hand in his much larger one once again. To your surprise, instead of bending down to kiss the back of your hand as he had before, he gently tugs on your arm and you fall weightlessly forward right back into his chest.

In a move that you’ll remember in vivid detail for all of your life, he leans down, long hair sweeping back as he presses those deliciously full lips onto yours, your hands slipping around his very high shoulders to support yourself. The kiss is quick and chaste but you could cry with sheer happiness, his soft lips on your own igniting a wild spark around you.

When you actually hear a firework around you, you pull away in utter confusion, thinking you’d imagined the signature whinny of a flying firework.

“Couldn’t resist,” you hear from the side and twist around, still wrapped around Fred as you look at George who stands with a smug look on his face at the fireworks he’d released. “Least now he’ll stop talking about you all the time.”

“George,” Fred warns.

“Do you think she’ll go the yule ball with me? Wonder if she’ll wear green, should I wear green? She’s so pretty, soooo funny, I wonder what she’s doing now…”

George’s high pitched, mocking voice gets rapidly quieter with each step as he walks away, fading into the background once again and as you turn to look back at Fred, the colour on his cheeks is a rather impressive bright pink blush.

“Wish I had a camera with me,” you say, making his brow knit together into a quizzical frown as he silently questions your words.

“That’s just the shade of pink I wanted my dress to be.”

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