#fred weasley hurt

[itstopplingdomino]

confident | weasley twins x reader

A/N: i made a promise to write something after my test based on how i feel afterwards. so here we are...

pairing: fred weasley x reader (if you squint), george weasley x reader summary: Fred carries the essence of confidence like it weighs nothing; academic, friendship, quidditch and even love life - he is sure he's set for life. So when he finds out about your little crush on him and how it had been like that for years, he does absolutely nothing. And that teaches him a lesson that he'll remember for the rest of his life. tags: hurt/no comfort, idiots in love, no usage of y/n, gn!reader (usage of 'you' instead of specific pronouns), usage of pet/nicknames, mild cursing, false hope, leading on, jealousy, no war alternative universe ───────── "I don't understand," Lee states. He is sitting on the armrest of the sofa, the afternoon light shines briefly across his eyes as he tries to block it with a book. "If you like Daisy too then why.." Fred shrugs. "Well if Daisy maintains a secret crush on me for five years, then waiting for another two- you know until after graduation- won't hurt."

Lee looks at Angelina, hoping that she'll have a better explanation for this. Unfortunately she returned his confused look with her own.

"How are you sure Daisy won't give up? What if tomorrow your little admirer wakes up and decides to like someone else?" Angelina probes.

"Please, I have a plan." Fred says, with his usual air of mock-arrogance. "Trust me, it'll work."

Lee and Angeline exchanges a resign look. "Well, it's gonna be your lost anyway.." Lee says in which Angelina nods to.

Fred shrugs, again, then leaves to find you.

He knows where you are. Five years in Hogwarts together, causing ruckus in all forms with the promise of detention almost every time, he can understand you in ways you sometimes don't.

Which is why your crush on him is not a surprise to him at all. In fact it was almost hilarious that everyone else think of it as such a big deal. You two are attached to the hips most of the times; if he's not there to bring trouble, you'll find him - and it's been like this ever since you set foot in Hogwarts.

George, of course, joins in the fun. Though Fred notices that he's slowly been opting out over the years, preferring to prank with just the older twin. Fred considers this an act of jealousy yet he never brings it up as George's blatant avoidance never seems to bother you. He's seen his twin interacts with you alone just yesterday, the day before, and Merlin even before that. He thinks that George simply want a little separation as michievenous activities are always a two-person activity until you came.

That is exactly why, right now, Fred waits for you just outside Arithmancy classroom for a planned pranking session; target for the day is Filch.

Not too long after he arrived, students emerge from the classroom, all looking like the boredom has threatened their life. You, in all your glory, comes out looking like you defeated boredom. Laughing beside your classmate who Fred sure he was introduced to before yet he can't remember her name. It didn't matter though, he's only here for you.

"My Daisy," Fred greets you with a playful smile on his face, bowing like a gentleman from the victorian era, lowering a pretend-tophat.

You rolled your eyes. "Please stop calling me by something I'm deathly allergic to. Even Lee and Angie started using it too."

"If you say so, Peanuts."

You playfully smack him across his back. He knows you're not deathly allergic to Peanuts, only mildly.

"Ready?" He asks, offering you his hand.

The brief shy look that passes your face did not escape him as you joins hands. "Ready!"

Fred smirks knowingly. With usual flirtatious remarks in his repertoire, physical touch is a newly added part in his friendship with you. He loves it when you look away nervously whenever your faces are a little too close, or when you jolts and become a stuttering mess every time he whispers right next to your ears, or moments like this - hand holding, plus short hugs and arm across your shoulder that's he's planning to include in the future.

With what he knows about your feelings, he revels in this reactions without ever needing to confess. - - -

You doubled over the grass just outside Hogwarts grounds, laughing at the wrath Fred and you invoke in Filch from the prank. This time you calculated for sure that the caretaker of Hogwarts will not find out who the pranksters are. A red herring steering towards obnoxious Slytherins is placed perfectly for him to think it's not the two of you.

"That was brilliant!" Fred shouted, he dips to lift you up and spins you around. "Bloody smart, you are!"

You cackles loudly, just enjoying his grip on your body. You're not thinking of anything inappropriate but Good Godric if you could just kiss that lips, you'll be content eternally.

He must've realise that you're staring at his lips as an unreadable expression crosses his face, he sets you down as his eyes flicks between your eyes and your lips.

It can't be.. can't it?

You think again.

I mean.. he's been sweet these days.. more so than usual.

If that's not a sign, then you don't know what is. So you fight your doubts and tiptoe to reach his lips. Your eyes closes as it nears his face yet what stops you is not the innocent peck you've been dreaming of, it is his hands on your shoulder.

Confusion evident on your face as you open your eyes and lower yourself. You search for answer in his face but all you could find is a torn look. The kind of look you've seen him give to other students who had asked him out. The kind of look that you desperately wish against yourself every single night.

And now you're at the receiving end of it.

A thick lump forms in your throat and all you say is, "Why..?"

Fred clears his throat as he looks away, clearly uncomfortable in this situation, his hand still on your shoulder now caressing in consolation.

You don't need consolation. You need explanation.

"Freddie, why?" Tone firmer than before as you shake off his hands.

"Well, its just.. I mean.." He took a deep breath before he continue. "Let's just have fun, you know. We only have two years left. Surely you don't want to spend the majority of it with- with this." He gestured between you and him.

If nature is a little quieter, you're sure the sound of your heartbreak can be heard.

"Is that what this- all this has been about..? You having fun?" You hissed, taking a few steps back which he closes just easily in a single move.

"I mean, you like me for five years, certainly you can wait a few more.."

The icing on the cake. He knew.

He knew and he still did that.

Play with your heart, push and pull it like a tug of war.

"You are the absolute worst."

Without sparing a single glance, you turn on your heels and apparated away. - - - The rest of the year passes in a blink of an eye.

To everyone else, it seems. Lee had been whining non-stop at Fred and George's decision to leave Hogwarts early. NEWTs is irrelevant to the path the Weasley twins has set for themselves, after all.

To Fred, the year drags on painfully slow as if he's aware of every single second that ticks by. He's just glad the day for them to leave is finally nearing.

After what happens between Fred and you, he notices that he almost never see you anymore. The one time he did was when you came looking for Angelina to pass her notes you had borrowed. You greeted him with your usual cheeriness but the smile didn't quite reach your eyes. He thought you'll warm back to him, forgive him, but how can you forgive when he can't even find you to apologise.

He realises that you know him better than he does himself. Otherwise how else can you avoid for so long.

At one point, he even asks Angelina if you had ever mention anything about your little crush on him anymore.

"Hm, no actually. I mean, it's pretty clear that Daisy's focusing on NEWTs, we all are anyway, so boys talk never really come up. It just adds to the stress."

Her answer disappointed him but he has an image to uphold so he act nonchalant about it.

"What? Are you finally going to pursue Daisy?" Angelina teased.

"Why are you asking? Afraid of the competition?" Fred in his usual manner put on a smirk, albeit a fake one. And the way Angelina rolled her eyes and smacked him meant that he successfully fooled her.

How he wished it was you who's rolling her eyes and smacking then, instead of her.

He made a fool out of you.

- - - Fred enters the apartment after a long negotiation with the accountant at the bank. He just couldn't figure out why the numbers are not adding up and the son of a bitch he hired is as unhelpful as a broken wand. Three years they've been doing business and this accountant is the first one to be so incompetent. Fred regretted making a rushed hiring decision as the last one had to resigned immediately from chronic health issues. A breach in one year contract would cost them quite a lot so he just puts up him. Two more months and he'll fire that bastard.

He searches for the bottle of wine in the cupboard, typically reserved for celebratory occasions and not punching the accountant in a very public space counts as a win, but the wine is not there. He looks at other cupboards too, but the bottle is still nowhere to be found.

George must've taken it.

No one else lives here, and unless the bottle of wine grew a pair of legs, it simply do not move from it's designated place.

The older twin drags his feet to his brother's room when George's door opens.

And there you are.

You, in all your glory, comes out looking like you defeated boredom. Laughing hysterically at what George says as your hands wrapped delicately around his twin's arm.

He had seen this sight before. Often when you went out from your favourite classes like Arithmancy or Ancient Runes.

But never with George. Never to George.

He whispers your name in a hopeless attempt to make you direct that smile to him, but your light dims as soon as you heard him.

George and you stop, taken aback by Fred's early arrival. The younger twin isn't expecting his brother to return until an hour from now.

"I know you two know each other." George chuckles, which you smiled at. The sweet smile that once had been directed to Fred. "But I'd like to introduce Daisy again.."

His eyes practically sparkling at this point. "as my Fiance."

George didn't falter and your smitten look unwavering. There isn't a single mischief or malice in his demeanour, nor yours. This isn't some sick, twist prank the two of you are pulling. Fred had never told anyone about what happens between the two of you, but he had assume you had ignored George all the same. What, being identical twins and all. Just looking at George should've brought pain to you.

Apparently looking at George seems to make you smile even brighter.

"Uh.. S-since when..?" Fred force out a cough. "I mean, I didn't know you two kept in contact, let alone are seeing each other.."

"We didn't." You answer, though your eyes chose to look at his general direction and not his eyes. "We met around two years ago by coincidence."

"Merlin, a lucky guy I am." George chimes in. "It started with a simple catch up over tea. Then it became a monthly thing. Before we know it, we were meeting almost every other day for half a year."

How did he missed it. "Daisy here is still a tough one. Took me a year and half to convince her to date me. Another half year to convince marrying me!"

Seriously, how did he missed it? Fred remembers when George comes home late, snickering to himself, sometime last year. Then the next day he was so high spirited that he gave out discount to everyone the first opening hour. He was so high on cloud nine that whenever Fred tried to pry out details of joyous mood, George simply kept evading the question. Saying he doesn't want to jinx it. "Oh, while we're on the subject.. Will you be my bestman?"

Fred looks between you and his brother. Your eyes refusing to meet his. Hesitantly he replies, "Y-yeah! Of course Georgie! I'll be honoured!"

He hope his emotions didn't betray his tone. His younger twin is engaged, no foul play is coming from you as far as he could tell. Well, of course he could tell. However you're behaving with George right now was how you acted when you had a crush on Fred. He knew that love-adorn smile, that twinkle in your eyes, the pitched giggles in between. He knew that all too well, though you're definitely less shy and hesitant about it with George.

You lean against his brother wearing a specific form of confidence Fred had only seen once in you.

The same air of confidence that he had shattered when he pushed you away as you tried to kiss him. Fucking Fantastic. It is his lost.

[thestorycomesalive]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby

George Weasley x Reader

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You had been suffering from nightmares for a while now. This was nothing new to you. But when you have a nightmare that wakes you up in tears, you find yourself instinctively in front of George's dorm, seeking his comfort.

AKA: George is a softie. Two idiots in love, oblivious pining. Fred and Lee will not stop teasing the two dummies.

Lyrics included from the song: Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex

.....

You were not a stranger to nightmares. These terrifying dreams had haunted you since you were very little. But you mostly suffered through them alone. You never wanted to wake anyone else or concern them with your deepest fears and troubles. You guessed a part of you didn’t want to accept that you had these fears at all. So, one cold, autumn night, you found yourself sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower, hoping not to be seen, but daring to do so anyways. For another haunting dream had plagued your sleep just moments ago. These days, they seemed to be getting worse, and your first instinct tonight was to escape and get some fresh air.

As you walked through the entrance of the tower, you felt the breeze flow in through the open walls, chilling your skin and, ever so slightly, whipping your hair. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you approached the opening of the tower. The frigid wind woke you from your sleepiness and seemed to remind your body that you were here. That you were okay. You overlooked the black skyline and closed your eyes, breathing in the burning atmosphere. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. It wasn’t until you heard the sound of the railing creak next to you that you awoke from your hypnotic state. Your eyes opened and you turned to look to where you had just heard the weight of the metal bar on your right, moments before. There stood a tall and sleepy George, adorned in a knitted sweater and sweatpants, arms crossed, as he leaned against the railing next to you. He looked out at the skyline. His expression mirrored the one you had sported before, but his eyes were open as he saw you turn to him in his peripheral vision.

“I honestly thought you might’ve been sleepwalking,” he chuckled as he stared at the darkness ahead of him.

“What are you doing here, Georgie?” you asked, puzzled.

“I could ask you the same thing, love,” he said with a small smile on his face. He turned his head to bring his eyes to meet yours.

You smiled back at him lightly. “I meant, more so, how did you know I’d be here?”

He dramatically placed his hand on his chest and faked shock and offense, his mouth wide. “Who said I knew? Maybe I just needed some fresh air too,” he tested, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Well then it seems great minds think alike,” you laughed at your best friend.

George quickly dropped his act, a mischievous grin on his face. “I’m only kidding. Fred and I borrowed the Marauder’s Map from Harry last night. I couldn’t sleep and gave it a look. I saw you wandering,” he said with a shy grin on his face.

“Bad dream?” you asked him, softly, your eyes slightly become distant at the memory of your own nightmare.

“Nah,” he said. “I had the coffee cake at dinner tonight. I ate so much of it, I could’ve run the entire quidditch field twenty times over,” he chuckled. He took in your slightly distant eyes as you laughed slightly at his response. “You?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah. It was stupid. I just needed a change of scenery,” you sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently as he wrapped his arm around your shivering form, pulling you into him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“It’s okay. It was nothing,” you lied. You leaned your head into George’s shoulder, your heart doing cartwheels at the unexpected contact from him. You, the twins, and Lee had been best friends since your first year, but it didn’t take long for your friendship with George to quickly blossom into more, in your heart. You had fallen for him completely, but you knew you would never utter a word about it out of fear of losing your best friend in the whole entire world.

Oblivious to you, George felt the same exact way. He loved everything about you. The way your hair bounced when you walked, the glisten in your eyes when you looked at him, the way you tilted your head slightly when you laughed, the sound of your voice. Everything. He had entirely fallen for you over the years. What started as a simple crush in his first year, never subsided. Rather it took his body and soul by storm. He felt warm whenever you were near. His heart skipped in his chest and his knees weakened. But how could he ever tell his best friend that he was completely and entirely in love with her? He thought that you would likely feel obligated to awkwardly thank him, never to talk to him again. And to him, a world in pining and longing with you in it, was better than one in relief without you there.

He felt his heart rate patter as you reciprocated his touch and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Aren’t you cold out here?” he asked quietly.

“A little bit,” you smiled up at him. “But I don’t mind it.”

George hesitated. He wanted to just take you completely into his arms and hold you through the cold, sharp wind. But he didn’t want to scare you away. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. He settled upon simply draping his other arm over you gently rubbing up and down your arm to generate some heat to you.

Your legs nearly gave out from the feeling of his touch. You and George had hugged many times before, but this time, he was so close to actually holding you. You wanted nothing more. You loved the feeling of George’s strong arms around you and his large hand running along your arm. You decided to be a little bit brave as you tucked into him a little bit more, wrapping your arms around his waist, your cheek in his sweater.

George’s arms froze in surprise as you curled yourself into him. He felt his cheeks flush red with warmth as he tried his best to bring himself back to reality. He moved his frigid arms to gently wrap around you, squeezing you to him. “Is… is that a little bit warmer?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Much. Thank you,” you smiled up at him as your own face flushed red with longing and bashfulness.

The two of you stayed that way for another half an hour or so, neither wanting to let go of the other. But when you let out a yawn, George looked down at you, a gentle smile on his face.

“We should probably get you to bed,” he rubbed your arm gently, in his embrace.

“You too,” you said, looking up at him with a sleepy smile.

The two of you walked back to the Common Room where George walked you up to the door of your dorm. George stood there awkwardly, his arms at his side as he bid you goodnight. Everything in him wanted to pull you into him again, to hug you. His arms felt so empty without you. Hell, he wanted so badly to kiss you. To feel your lips against his gently as you parted ways for the night, but his mind convinced him against it. What he didn’t expect was for you to take a step closer to him and to move up on your tiptoes. He didn’t expect you to wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear. But you did.

“Goodnight, Georgie. Thank you for everything,” you said sweetly as you hugged the boy you loved so dearly. You wished you could ask him to stay. You wanted him to hold you all night, but you convinced yourself that you had to let him go. He wrapped his arms around you in return, his eyes wide in surprise as he spoke, “N…No problem, goodnight.”

And you parted ways.

******

In the coming days, neither George nor you brought up that night to anyone. Not to your friends, not to each other. To you, it was a beautiful memory that you would cherish forever. You didn’t want to share it with anyone else. You didn’t want it to belong to anyone but you. You wanted it all to yourself… and to him. You survived on small, happy moments like that with George. Moments where you allowed yourself to feel all of the love you had for the boy fully and completely. You knew you would never be able to confess your feelings to him, so this is how you would live. Off of every happy and soft moment you could possibly get with the gentle, ginger boy. And although you two never spoke of that wonderful, simple night, you always found your place next to him, and he always found his next to you.

Fred and Lee had constantly teased the two of you on the subject. Anytime you had to choose partners for a project in Potions, Fred would utter an “Oi, ten galleons I can tell you where George is headed as soon as Snape lets us up." This would earn him a glare and an eye roll from George and a snort from Lee. Another time, at the end of a long, random day, you were writing in the Common Room with your friends, and your legs found themselves draped over George’s. You sat horizontally on one side of the sofa, and he sat facing forward, his hand mindlessly holding your ankle in place, in his lap.

This wasn’t something unnormal for the two of you. George and you had a sort of magnetic force and you always seemed to be engaged in the smallest motions of physical touch in some way. You were never as close as you had been that night in the astronomy tower, but you were nearly always touching, none the less. The domestic picture of you and George instinctively sitting together on the couch, had Fred rolling on the floor laughing. Lee was trying to shush him, not wanting to embarrass either of you, however this seemed to be a fruitless prospect. The two boys couldn’t understand how oblivious you and George both were. It was obvious to your best friends that you liked each other, but no matter how many times they tried to convince each one of you, you never seemed to believe that it could be remotely possible. They could’ve given both of you Veritaserum and forced you to confess your love plain and simple, and both of you would probably still be too blind to see it.

“A little bit comfortable, are we there, Y/N?” Fred asked you, eyebrows wiggling in a teasing manner.

Your face flushed completely red, giving away your thoughts on the matter right away, to everyone but George.

“Don’t worry, I think our Georgie likes it,” Fred said, shooting a wink to George.

It was George’s turn to flush red with embarrassment. He took a pillow from next to him on the sofa and launched it at Fred’s face, causing him to roll back, holding his stomach as he laughed uncontrollably. Lee joined in on the chuckle and playfully slapped Fred’s arm.

“I think it’s sweet,” Lee said, laughing still.

George and you said nothing as you both found your hands to suddenly become increasingly interesting, trying to diffuse the situation in your minds.

*****

The next day, you had dropped your books all over the stairs as you were walking with Fred, Lee, and George from Transfiguration. A first year Hufflepuff had accidentally bumped into you as it was clear she was running late to her next class, and she wasn’t looking where she was going. As your books tumbled down the stairs, she apologetically called out to you.

“I’m so sorry!” She automatically turned down the stairs to head back down to help you retrieve the books she had thrown from your hand, disregarding her rush. But you gently smiled at her and stopped her in her tracks.

“It’s okay, darling. Go on, I’ve got it,” you said as gave her a reassuring wave onwards and a bright smile.

She thanked you quickly and nodded, as she returned to rushing up the stairs. As you turned back to look down at the books you had dropped, you saw that George was already bent down collecting them. He had a smile on his face as he had just watched the interaction you had had with the little Hufflepuff girl. You bent down too, collecting the last two books, as George placed the remainder of them into your hands.

“Here you go,” he said.

“Thanks, Georgie,” you smiled at him. His hand brushed against yours as he placed the books into your possession. He let them linger there, as you both stared at each other for a fraction of a moment.

“Good grief!” You were pulled out of your trance by Fred who had his arms crossed and eyebrow raised. Lee was next to him as they had turned to see what had kept you two from following them down the stairs. “Get a room, you two!” he shouted up at you as other students passed by.

You both immediately shot up from the ground, your faces heated, and your vision slightly blurred from embarrassment.

As the two of you headed down the stairs to catch up with Fred and Lee, Lee elbowed you playfully and whispered, “Your hero to the rescue.”

You lightly, and playfully slapped him on the shoulder with one of the smaller books in your arms as you exclaimed, “At least he helped me! You lot just stood there and watched.”

Lee laughed as he tried to dodge your whacks to his shoulder. “It’s more fun that way! Besides, it looked like George was eager to help. You didn’t need us.”

*****

The teasing never did stop and your feelings for George only grew and grew. You weren’t sure how it was possible to be so enamored with anyone. But here you were,  living proof that it was not only possible, but real.

After a particularly stressful day, you curled up in your bed and tried to think of pleasant thoughts to lull you to sleep. Most of the thoughts consisted of George. You eventually found yourself counting each individual thing you loved most about him, which could honestly take you forever. You figured it was like counting sheep. You weren’t intent on ever finishing your count, but rather falling asleep in the middle of it. Today had been a day of rarity. Everything seemed to go wrong. You failed your Potions exam, and you had gotten scolded by Professor McGonagall because you had slept in too late, missed breakfast and nearly missed the first half of her class. You were usually a pretty decent student, but your nightmares had been keeping you up at night, making it hard for you to focus and stay awake in class. Which, of course, now that you actually wanted to go to sleep, your body had to make it as difficult as possible for you to do.

You had drifted off into a deep sleep at some point, somewhere between recounting the sound of George’s laugh and the deep color of his eyes. But your sleep didn’t last long as you began tossing and turning, shooting up in a cold sweat. You were shaking and… crying? You reached up to touch your cheeks. You were definitely crying. Quiet sobs wracked from your body, as you covered your mouth, trying your best not to wake your dorm mates. You had to leave. You had to escape. But there was only one place you wanted to go. The Astronomy Tower hadn’t even crossed your mind this time.

In a daze, your feet subconsciously carried you down the stairs, up another set, and stopped in front of a large, brown, wooden door. Normally, your brain would’ve told you that it was wrong to enter people’s rooms uninvited. Your brain would’ve reminded you that you were crossing a boundary and that you were completely disregarding other peoples’ privacy. But tonight, there was only one thought playing over and over in your mind. You creaked the door open and quietly shut it behind you. It was like you were on autopilot as you made your way to the side of a bed, George’s beautiful, sleeping frame facing you.

Tears were still flowing down your face, but your sobs had stopped now that you could see him here. You gently, nervously brought your hand to his shoulder and shook it softly. “Georgie…” you squeaked out.

George’s eyes fluttered open in a confused daze. He took in his surroundings for a moment and when he saw you standing there, his heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him. He thought for sure, he must be dreaming. There was no way that you were actually here, right in front of his bed, in the quiet of the night.

“Y/N/N…” he called out, brows furrowed in confusion. As the moonlight shone in from the window, he finally caught a glimpse of the tears that stained your face and the sadness in your eyes. He sat up immediately, his hand reaching for your cheek as he wiped your tears away.

“Oh, love. What’s wrong?” he murmured to you. “Another bad dream?” he asked, softly.

Concern filled his eyes. It split his heart into two seeing you this sad and frightened. You simply nodded your head in response, like a petrified doe in headlights.

“Do you wanna take a walk? We can go to the Astronomy Tower.” he offered gently, pushing his blankets off of him.

You didn’t want to be anywhere but right here, with him. You mustered up the courage, or rather cowardly gave in to the urge that was telling you to ask George a question that could quite possibly put your friendship on the line. You shook your head.

“Can…” you took a deep, unhelpful breath, “can I stay with you?” you looked up at him with defeated eyes, searching his for any sign that you had just crossed a line.

His eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe that you were here, and he really couldn’t believe what you were asking him. He nodded his head quickly.

“Of course,” he whispered hurriedly. Without hesitation, he moved over to make room in his bed for you, lifting the covers as an invitation for you.

You sighed out in relief and disbelief. He had actually said yes. You hadn’t ruined anything. You gently laid yourself down as George sat there awkwardly next to you, afraid to touch you as if the act would send you running. He didn’t want to do anything to scare you off or make you feel like you had to leave him. But he wanted to move. He wanted to hold you, to run his hands through your hair and tell you that everything would be okay. That he would keep you safe.

But you couldn’t hold back. You had no sense of logic tonight. You only knew that you need to see George, to feel him. You needed to hear his heartbeat and know that he was there. You moved your head to rest on his chest, curling your legs closer to your stomach. You could feel him tense up and you hoped that you didn’t make him uncomfortable. Your own body tensed when you felt his apprehension.

George was feeling an immense number of emotions. He was in complete shock at the close proximity you had placed yourself into him, but he also felt his entire body melt at the sensation. Now was his chance. He could finally give into all of the urges he had felt pile up inside him just moments ago. Well, at least a select few of them. He allowed his arm to curl underneath you, pushing you closer to him, bringing his other arm around you, over your side, completely enveloping you in his embrace.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he whispered as he held you in his strong arms.

You had been holding your breath, waiting to see George’s reaction to your embrace. When he didn’t respond right away, you felt your heart drop and your eyes begin to water once more, but when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him, you breathed out and snuggled in closer to him, as he whispered to you. You listened carefully to the pattern of his heartbeat, as if it was your lifeline keeping you tied to reality. He felt you sigh into him and whispered to you once more.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you. As long as you’re with me you’ll be just fine.”

And you truly believed that. As long as George was here, you would always be okay. Which is why losing him felt like the most frightening thing in the world to you.

“Thank you, Georgie,” you whispered, as you felt yourself creeping into a deep sleep, listening to his heartbeat, feeling your lifeline in the arms of the man that you loved so dearly.

He tossed the idea of kissing the top of your head around in his mind. It was a big risk and normally he would turn the thought away, but tonight was a night full of new progressions and big chances. So, he did it. He gently kissed the top of your head and waited with bated breath to see how you would react.

Your mouth turned up into a gentle smile that you pressed into his chest. You took one of your legs and curled it around his, entangling the two of you together. He couldn’t hide the huge smile that grew on his face and the rapid increase of his heartbeat that you had been listening intently to. He didn’t sleep much that night, going in and out, in the awe of having you curled into him. He wanted to soak up every minute that you were entangled with him, in his arms.

******

When the morning arrived, George had finally fallen asleep, arms still wrapped around your body. He awoke quickly to a loud shout from Fred.

“BLOODY HELL!” Fred shouted as his face was mere inches away from George’s own.

George startled awake, nearly jolting from the image of his brother’s shocked face so close to his.

“George, I think you have a visitor!” Lee said from across the room, grinning widely at the scene before him.

“Your ‘best friend’ is sleeping in your bed, ole’ Georgie!” Fred shouted at him, rolling his eyes sarcastically at his own use of the term best friend, taunting George who had always insisted your relationship was platonic. “Better yet! She’s laying on top of you! Do you treat all of your friends like that? Because I assure you, Lee and I want no part of that!” Fred teased George loudly, still in shock from the scene in front of him. He was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement at the prospect of his brother and his best friend finally owning up to their feelings for each other. George quickly looked down at you, hoping Fred hadn’t awoken you. But you had been so tired from your nights of missed sleep, that you were still as a rock, breathing shallow as you continued into your unconsciousness.

“Will. You. Quit. It?!” George whispered furiously as he launched the pillow next to him straight into Fred’s face.

Fred rolled back off of his bed as the pillow met his face, laughing maniacally as he did so.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he whispered stubbornly. “She had a bad dream.”

“And so she had to come find her sweet, heroic Georgie to comfort her?” Fred taunted as he crossed his arms in front of himself.

“Come on, George. Why won’t you accept that she likes you too?” Lee asked George, supportively.

“Aren’t you two late for breakfast?” George shot back.

“Oooo, I see. Georgie wants alone time with his lady,” Fred teased as he gave George a big wink.

“Come on, Fred. Let her sleep. We’ll meet you two down there,” laughed Lee playfully.

George nodded and Lee and Fred began to exit the dorm room. However, Fred purposefully slammed the door shut on the way out trying to wake you , making George glare sharply at the other side of the door. George could hear Fred’s evil laugh fade as he raced down the stairs. Fred’s plot had worked. The jolt of the door jostled you awake. Your eyes shot open as you took in your surroundings for a moment. You lifted your head, your face flushing red as the memories of the night before came rushing back to you. You sat up and turned to George. He smiled at you.

“George…I’m so sorry,” you started. “I shouldn’t have let myself in last night.”

George felt his heart drop. Did you regret coming to see him? Staying with him?

“Oh,” George said. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I really don’t mind,” he tested.

You smiled, a bit relieved. “Thank you for everything. You don’t know how much I needed that.” You weighed your words carefully.

George felt his heart lift back up, at your words. Hope filled his chest. “Of course, love. I will always be here for you. Anytime you need me.”

Your smile burned brighter. Did he really mean that? Anytime? If you could have it your way, you would always be curled into the tall boy. And although you didn’t know it, he wished for exactly the same thing.

“Thank you, Georgie. You know, I’m always here for you too,” you said softly as you placed your hand gently on top of his.

He smiled at you in pure adoration. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his brows furrowing as his eyes searched yours.

You realized he was referring to your nightmare that you had encountered the night before. You had previously turned down the opportunity to talk about your nightmares to him before, so he was surprised when you released a sigh and spoke up. You felt he deserved an explanation.

“It was the worst dream I think I’ve ever had. It felt so real… so terrifying.” Your eyes became distant as you recalled your dream that had frightened you to your deepest core.

“What was it?” he whispered, as he brushed his hand against your cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

You leaned into his touch. “It was you, Georgie. I dreamt I lost you. It was like my whole world fell apart. That’s why…” you started and sighed, “I had to know you were okay. That you were here.”

He felt his chest twist and his brows furrow as his he began to open his mouth to speak, but stopped, speechless. You had dreamt about him. Your most terrifying dream was losing him. He knew just how much you mattered to him, but was it possible he meant just as much to you? “I’m here,” he said. “I will always be here for you. Nothing could ever keep me from you, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek into his chest as you hugged him. You then pulled away and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Thank you, Georgie,” you simply murmured.

His face turned bright red in shock and love. Your own face flushed at the realization of what you had just done. It had come so naturally, in the moment, that you hadn’t even thought twice about it. You cleared your throat gently, as a smile creeped up onto George’s face.

“I should apologize to Fred and Lee for crashing their room without asking,” you laughed, embarrassed.

“It’s my room too,” he said. “And in my opinion, you are perfectly welcome whenever you want.”

The two of you decided that even though you were significantly late to breakfast, you would still make your way to the Great Hall. You had run off to your dorm to change into your clothes for the day and planned to meet up with George near the Portrait of the Common Room. Eventually, when you came down the stairs and found George waiting for you, you gave him a small smile as you skipped to his side. He watched you walk to his side with a look of awe on his face. You looked so beautiful, as always.

You made your way to the Great Hall, the two of you mentally preparing for Fred’s teasing. But, Merlin, was it worth it. You had planned to apologize to Fred and Lee for crashing in their dorm, but as you and George walked side by side into the Great Hall, the wide, goofy grins on their faces when they made eye contact with you, told you they would take your apology just fine. It also told you that you were in for a rough day of pestering and flustered faces. Hell, the way they were looking at you two this time, this one would probably last weeks.

[cherry-pop-elf]

hello! 🌷 is it okay to request weasley twins x hufflepuff reader that was tortured by umbridge, but didn't give away the prank / bad thing that the twins did? out of loyalty for them

maybe comfort too, since they're thankful to reader and also feel guilty for what umbridge done to her. could be pre-dating or already dating them !!

have a lovely day 🎀

As a Hufflepuff who would have 100% been forced to not use their wheelchair because Umbridge would think I was faking my disability for attention, yeah we gonna get some Whump in this shit. ((Lowkey having some rough shit going on mentally so some vent fic like this will be hella. Thanks anon! Perfect timing!

—————————————————

Honey Wounds

Warning: Violence, Umbridge in general, blood, torture, whump, hurt/comfort 🎆🐝🎇

“Where’s little bumble bee-?” The twins would worry, as they had wondered why you didn’t show up to the secret little defense class Harry started up. Where could their little Hufflepuff be? Had them a little worried. By little, it was a lot. Things have been getting a lot more tense recently. Umbridge was really hammering down, and she was making her mission to find a way to get those two into Azkaban. By any means possible. The only reason she hasn’t was probably because of Percy somehow. As they worried, someone was quick to grab them.

“Fred, George, something bad happened. Something really bad happened-!” The first year was crying, and the duo were on red alert now. The poor kid was in to many tears to really speak, so they figured there was no need to. George was quick to pick the first year up, as the child was just pointing. Fred was in the running lead, as George was trying to comfort the child. The poor kid was hiccuping, and seeming so scared. Something bad happened, and they had to figure out what it was. That’s when they saw it. Blood on the barrels, like someone was slapping bloody hand’s desperately to get into the Hufflepuff dorm.

“Shit shit shit, what did she do now-?” Fred hissed, as he tried to focus on entering the dorm. Having to get literal blood on his hands, in order to get inside. With the pattern played, the duo were able to run inside. Left to see the Hufflepuff dorm full of noise. So many students all busy and around someone. When Hannah Abbott noticed the twins, she stepped away. Pulling away fellow students, and the horror was on display.

“Fred, George…..?” It was you, and you were not looking hot. Not looking hot at all. You were horribly pale, and your hands looked as if they had been through a chopping block. The fellow Puff’s had done their best to try and help, but it was like they wouldn’t stop bleeding. George had instantly covered the first years eyes, despite the fact the child had long seen it. It was just habit after all.

“WHAT HAPPENED-?!” Fred was soon by your side, while George was quick to hand the child off to someone. Now he was on your other side. You were just to tired to really process it all, given the blood loss. If it wasn’t for their brilliant hair, you would have assumed it was just more worried Hufflepuff’s. Just trying so hard to help. It’s rather scary. Sure, it’s Hogwarts. Things get violent, but this wasn’t just a random accident. Nor some run in with a beast. This was a woman who wanted to hurt.

“I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell her-“ You managed to say, with a smile. The twins looked at each other, wondering what you were blabbering about, before they were quick to take over. The Puff’s made sure to stay out of their way, as the twins were able to move in ever perfect unison. Not needing to speak, to move. Fred was quick to start emptying their bags, as George was taking care in trying to wash the wounds on your hands.

“I know it’s in here, come on out you bastard-“ Fred hissed, as he sorted through the assortment of old tins they had collected. Each with its own experiment, as George tried to not freak out. Seeing you hurt like this. It was making him feel so many emotions. Anger at Umbridge, fear for what that woman will do next, sadness for your pain, anxiety on it Ron and Ginny would be next. It was all so loud in his eyes, as he tried not to let the tears spill.

“Found it-!” Fred sighed, as he was quick to start lathering a strange substance on your hands. It felt rather strange. As if he was lathering your open wounds with pudding. You expected it to hurt, but it was rather nice. Very cooling to your burning wounds. It would soon seem to harden on your fingers and palms. As if stopping you from bleeding, and absorbing the blood. Forcing it to stay inside. If you weren’t so dizzy, you would praise them for being so smart.

“Bumble Bee….What happened?” Fred asked, as George was busy with someone. Quick to get some water from one of the prefects, and try and nurse it into your body. George was gentle, and you needed it. You choked on it, but he knew you had to drink some. You lost alot of blood, and you had to stay hydrated. He would keep your head against his chest, as you managed to get some down. Enough to satisfy him, and calm his nerves. You could feel how sweaty his hands were, with worry, as he stroked your hair. With a few minutes to breath, you spoke.

“She brought me to her office. Asked me who had broken in it last night. I said I didn’t know. She didn’t like that, but I didn’t give up.” You smiled, as the twins were staring in horror. They broke into her office, last night. They swore they didn’t leave behind a trace. They had to break in. She confiscated Ginny’s bracelet. Said she fiddled with it too much. It was made just for her, by Bill. Ever since the incident in the chamber of secrets, she was more susceptible to dark magic. So, a Curse breaker made her something to help. Umbridge was actively putting her in danger. How could they not protect their little sister?

“It was a trap…..She did that on purpose-“ Fred realized, as it made sense. Of course they would break in to get it back. That horrid woman. “Can’t believe she dragged you into this. I mean, I can, but you get the point I’m making here! We’re so sorry Honey Bee-“ George would soon echo, as he kissed your head. Feeling so guilty. You didn’t blame them, of course, but they sure didn’t stop feeling guilty.

“It’s ok. Im ok. Ginny needed it. Like I would ever rat you two out.” You tried to reassure them, but their minds were made up. They had to do something about Umbridge. This woman was going insane. The twins swore she wasn’t aware that you three were in a relationship of sorts. They were magical twins. Not fair to compare them to muggle ones. They shared a partner, no big deal. Communication makes the dream work. Seems like maybe you three communicated in the wrong hallway one to many times, and she put two and two together.

“We are going to fix this. We promise.” The twins spoke, as they comforted you. George with keeping your head to his chest, as Fred was between your legs. Hugging your stomach, and nuzzling into your thigh. Just needing to hold onto you. As if you would disintegrate into his hands then and there. You would have comforted him, but it didn’t seem like your hands wanted to exist at the moment.

“Looks like we can’t wait for that down payment any longer. Now or never.” George said, as Fred gave a defeated sigh. He was right. If they stayed at Hogwarts any longer, Merlin knows who else she will drag into their mess. George was right, it was now or never. Because never means they’ll be in Azkaban for murdering her at this point.

“Say, Bumble bee….Think you can handle living in a rundown hollowed building for a while?” Fred asked, as you tried to focus your eyes. You didn’t really understand half of what they were saying, but you knew this. Wherever they went, you would follow. “What makes it any different from a dungeon?” You tried to joke, and that seemed to solidify the deal. Look out world, the Weasley Twins were about to show off their latest invention.

The WhizBang

[starstruckwillows]

♡ try again - f.w ♡

requested by @reasontobebeautiful <3

fred weasley x slytherin!reader, pureblood!reader, platonic!sirius black x reader, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, swearing

sirius black ensuring fred weasley doesn't make the same mistakes he saw many war-stricken kids make

there’d been a cruel edge to his words that he hadn’t quite meant.

fred’s scathing indictment of your family wasn’t any different to the things you usually said about your kin, and it didn’t bother you for others to agree. but to be part of that perception was probably your worst fear.

you’d been so excited turning up at the doorstep of grimmauld place, suitcase in hand, bright beam gracing your face.

fred had frowned. he’d been ignoring the way your smile made him feel for a long time.

“why are we having death-eaters round for christmas dinner?”

molly had scolded her son then, “george! i mean, fred!”

he’d rolled his eyes, mumbling, “might as well get her whole family out and kill some muggles for the christmas spirit.”

it was the association. your family were one way, you must be too.

maybe that’s how it was for the weasleys, at least four generations of ginger gryffindors shooting for the stars in their respective fields. ministry, dragons, pranks, quidditch.

maybe that’s how it looked for you, at least four generations of slytherins serving whichever tyrannical supremacist reigned at the time.

you found a lot of your time was spent trying to convince people that wasn’t you. but gina lomotey, whose dad had once punched professor snape, didn’t have to walk around assuring people she didn’t attack teachers. and kosi berry, whose parents had a short lived music career, never had to explain she had no interest in singing.

reene west’s mum hijacked a broom race, ford green’s dad did a stint in muggle prison, carson denny’s eldest brother lived full time in st mungos due to an unhealthy obsession with lions.

none of them faced half the crap you did for their bloodlines.

sirius had come to see you, heard you vent about this once again.

“and it’s almost like... i mean i’m not saying you had it easier, you didn’t, it was worse for you in different ways. but, it’s like i have to work so hard to prove i don’t have my families prejudice, because i am a slytherin. you had the argument of a different house to help your case, in school anyway. but i wear the same colour robes my family did, so people never believe me.”

somehow your feelings for fred were brought to the surface of the conversation. maybe that’s what made it harder.

“i’m so tired of having to make them believe me. i’m not a bad person.”

so you didn’t grovel, and try to prove your innocence, because you were well and truly tired of being pre-judged. it wasn’t as if the two of you met on a battlefield. sirius had invited you here. dumbledore approved, he trusted you. you’d never given fred a reason to dislike you.

the boy in question, banished to the other side of the house by his own anger (and shame), was glowering at a wall.

his mum told him his response had been impolite. george told him he was smack out of line.

he knew they were right.

especially when sirius, a man fred had got on with well, had knocked on the door, greeting him with a slight scowl.

“i want you to apologize.”

no beating around the bush.

“i’m not sorry.” lie. you sound like a petulant child.

“yes you are.”

fred blinked.

“i am old enough to recognize the feelings of teenagers. i spent seven years watching my friends fall in and out and in again with love. i watched james pine for lily, i watched them fight. i watched marlene and dorcas take five years to get over their differences.”

fred jested, "sounds creepy.”

sirius smiled, but continued his story, “do you know what marlene and dorcas’ main difference was?"

he shrugged.

“marlene was a gryffindor, dorcas a slytherin, and it took them a good fraction of their lives to move past that. they died young. they spent more time denying their feelings for a school, house rivarly, than the time they got to spend loving each other. we’re approaching a war again, kid. don’t repeat their mistakes. take it from me.”

fred remained uncharacteristically silent for a few minutes, and although it was unsettling, sirius stayed. it was clear the boy had questions.

“your family were death-eaters.”

sirius nodded.

“but they rejected you, for being in the wrong house.”

“correct.”

“if... you’d been a slytherin, and they accepted you... would you have rebelled? or would you have become a death-eater.”

sirius shrugged, “i know why you’re asking, but i have no answer for you. if i was in a different house, i would have a different character, and any alternate character would mean very different decisions. all i can tell you is i know her. you don’t, yet. she is not her bloodline. she's cunning, and ambitious, but her ambition is not to participate in genocide. talk to her. you might be surprised at what you find.”

fred had made up his mind. sirius was right, and he wanted to know you. he wanted to see your stupidly pretty smile, he wanted to cause it, and he wanted to know your favourite things. he wanted to know what made you feel, what made you sleep. he wanted to talk to you.

which proved incessantly difficult, because you were avoiding him like dragonpox. every once in a while, he would catch your eye and you'd blink rapidly before looking away, fiddling with your sleeves.

christmas day rolled around a few days on, and fred still had yet to successfully get you alone. as everyone begun unwrapping their presents, he was only staring at you, waiting for a reaction, hoping you'd know the unlabelled gift was from him.

you did, eyes widening and shooting up to find him in the room, visibly taken aback.

“do you like it?” he mouthed, tilting his head as the firm grip of insecurity tightened his chest.

with your lips slightly parted in surprise, you nodded your head. the same feeling lay at the base of your heart, wondering if it was going to turn out to be a prank.

he jerked his chin towards the kitchen, question in his eyes, and tried to not take your hesitation to heart. especially as you stood up and walked his line of sight. when he was sure nobody else was paying attention, he followed you.

“hey...” he rubbed the back of his neck, the awkwardness between you heavy in the air.

but fred was fred and he still kept eye contact, a steady voice, an easy stance.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, “okay.”

the word is uttered so nonchalantly, as though your stomach wasn’t erupting with unruly butterflies.

“do you... could you forgive me?”

“maybe. if you mean it.”

he nodded, “i do. i’d like to know you, actually know you, not think i do.”

“i’d like that.”

—

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly

[screamingoverfiction]

Quiet Girl

Just an angsty/fluffy one-shot. Pairing: Fred Weasley x !f-reader, no mentioned house, some use of Y/n.

Not requested, but I've wanted to finish this draft for a while.

Non-Cannon. Everyone is 17+

First Person and a little Third

Word count: 2.7k

Y/n-

Fred Weasley. Why was he so perfect? How could he sit there, without a care in the world, with that cheeky smirk, and simply exist?

It's unfair. I'm so perfectly average, while he's just- perfect. His eyes are such a rich pretty brown, and his hair is fiery, just like his personality. His funny, witty, and so fucking annoying, but for some reason, I don't care.

But he doesn't notice me. I'm just the quiet girl he sits next to in DADA. He copies off me sometimes, engages in small talk, and cracks jokes about the professor. But after class is over, I don't exist to him anymore.

It's difficult to like him, not because he's unlikable, that's the problem, he's too likable, so I'm basically every other girl. We all want him. He knows he's attractive, always flirting and sticking his tongue down a different girl's throat each week. George is also heavily fought after. The twins are the hottest guys in our year.

I wish he wanted more than my DADA answers. Hell, I study for the class just so we have something to converse about. I couldn't have cared less about that class until this year.

I'm currently in DADA, sitting alone since Fred is probably skipping, much to my dismay. This is the only time I can take to him. In the other classes we have together, he doesn't sit near me.

I frown down at my work, scribbling away at the warm-up Lupin has assigned. He's a great teacher, but I've just never been interested in DADA.

Suddenly, the door to the class opens, all heads turn, and two redheads stumble inside, laughing their asses off.

Internally, I shout with joy, but externally I just roll my eyes when Fred sits in the seat next to me.

"Psst, L/n, think you could spare the answers to the warm-up?" Fred asks hopefully, sending me his infamous cheeky smirk.

I roll my eyes with a sigh and slide the paper across the desk, watching him copy my answers and biting back my small smile.

Fred finished writing and slid the paper back, giving me a grateful nod and a smile. He clapped his hand on my shoulder, making my eyes go wide and my head reel back.

"Thanks, mate," He said with a smile.

He let go of my shoulder, and I slumped back in my seat, face in a grimace, cringing inwardly. He called me mate. Holy shit, I'm so far in the friend zone.

I blew air through my nose, and my face stayed in a frown the entire class. I didn't even snicker at any of his jokes. I was too grumpy. It's not like he'd like me anyway, but it still stung.

After we were dismissed, I picked up my bag and left without another word or glance at Fred. Even when he said bye to me, I just sent him a silent nod.

When I reached my dorm, I collapsed onto my bed, smashing my face into my pillow and screaming. I turned around, staring at my ceiling with a frown.

I'm his mate and not the good kind. Ugh, at least I'm better off than the other girls.

Fucking hell, I need to get over him. I know there's no point in that. He'll just loop you back in with his smile. He radiates happiness.

I hate it.

I sigh and stand up, pacing around my dorm with my arms crossed. I sit back on the edge of my bed and decide to start my homework, but not before the door bursts open.

My three roommates rush in, a blonde, and two brunettes, all giggling about something. I have friends, but I could never seem to click with my roommates.

"Oh hey, Y/n. You look deep in thought," A brunette says, glancing beside her at her friends and giggling like it was some inside joke I didn't get. Her name is Maya.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I am," I say back, feeling my face heat up. I clear my throat and shift my gaze away from them.

They continued chatting for a while. I ignored their conversation, sticking to my homework.

"Did you see Fred today? Merlin what I would do to get him in bed,"

My ears perk up at the mention of his name, and I look over at them, accidentally making eye contact with one of the girls- Amy, the blonde one, but I quickly look away.

"Y/n, do you fancy anyone?" Amy asks, authentic curiosity in her voice. Amy was always the nicest, and I knew she was being genuinely friendly, but Veronica and Maya? Not as much.

I lift my eyes, swallowing thickly before silently shaking my head, hoping they would drop the subject.

I hear a chorus of giggles, and I shift uncomfortably, suddenly insecure about myself in every way.

"I don't really believe you, L/n. Who is it? Diggory? Flint? Come on, we're your friends. You can trust us," Veronica- the second brunette reassures me, but I don't believe her.

"Uh, I'm good," I say, trying to move away from them, but Maya grabbed my arm, forcing me to stay seated.

"Is it Fred?"

My face visibly flushes, and their eyes go wide, identical grins breaking across each of their faces.

"W-What? No, I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered nervously, face still red with embarrassment. I glanced between them, my face desperate, but they didn't care.

Veronica smirked, looking at Maya and Amy. Amy's expression was confused. She cocked her head sideways.

"See you at dinner, L/n," Maya said sweetly, tugging on Amy's arm and pulling her toward the door, whispering something into her ear.

I watched them leave the room, frozen in my spot. I didn't know what they were planning, but it couldn't be good.

I shook it off, convincing myself they wouldn't do anything wrong to me. It's not like I've done anything to them. Why would they try and mess with me?

I sighed, picking up my bag and walking to the door. I hummed quietly to myself while walking to the great hall, staring at my feet and keeping my head low.

I entered the great hall, finally picking my head up and heading towards my house table, but I never made it there.

My eyes found Veronica, Maya, and Amy, but they were standing by Fred.

I froze in my tracks, my eyes widening as their conversation came into my earshot.

"Well, Y/n fancies you told us herself. She's practically obsessed," Maya said with a snarky laugh.

"Merlin, she wouldn't stop talking about how much she wants to-" I tuned out the rest of Veronica's words-lies.

My chest tightened, and my heart felt like it was about to explode. My eyes were wide with hurt, and I could feel tears stinging.

Suddenly, Amy's eyes found mine, her face paled, and her mouth hung slightly agape. She quickly grabbed Veronica's arm, nodding toward me.

Veronica, Maya, Amy, and Fred all stared at me. Fred's eyes held an unreadable emotion. I felt nauseous. Bile rose in my stomach, and I quickly took a step back, knocking into someone, but I didn't care. I needed to get away from them.

I turned on my heels and ran, no, sprinted out of the great hall, tears blurring my vision. I wanted nothing more, than for someone to shoot me between the eyes.

- About a half hour earlier.

Fred-

"You called her your mate?" George asked, bursting into laughter and falling back on his bed.

"I didn't know what else to say!" Fred fired back defensively, his cheeks tinting red.

"You don't call the girl you fancy, mate, you muppet," George stated, shaking his head with an eye roll.

"Well, it's not like she fancies me. She's completely disinterested in me and shows no sign of even tolerating me," Fred sighed, sitting on his bed and running a hand through his hair.

"It can be like that with some girls," George assures his twin. Fred shook his head, biting his cheek and crossing his arms.

"She doesn't laugh at my jokes, won't look at me, rolls her eyes at everything I do. I think she's smiled at me maybe once," Fred muttered, shaking his head again.

"L/n doesn't smile, ever. And I've seen her smile at you, so extra points for Freddie," George snickers, earning a pillow launched at him by Fred.

"Why don't you just grow a pair and ask her out?"

"I'm nervous, Georgie. I've never felt this way about a girl before. I don't want to lose her, and if she rejects me, I'll never even get to talk to her again," Fred says with an exasperated sigh, his face falling into his hands.

"Man, you're whipped," George spoke with a breathy laugh, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

"Fucking hell," Fred mumbled, continuing to vent and ask George for advice the whole way down to dinner.

Once the twins reached the great hall and started toward the Gryffindor table, Fred was corraled by three girls.

He vaguely recognized them, Veronica, Maya, and Amy. Maya and Veronica had tried to sleep with him many times.

"Hey, Freddie," Veronica said with a sweet smile, placing her hand on his arm.

Fred remained unphased, but he carefully removed his arm from her grasp.

"Do you know who Y/n L/n is?" Maya asked, smiling at him and totaling her head sideways.

Fred's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name, he quickly cleared his throat, shifting on his feet and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I sit next to her in Lupin's," Fred said, looking between the girls wearily. He'd never seen Y/n talking with them.

Amy tugged on Maya's sleeve, whispering something in her ear and trying to pull her away from Fred.

"Shove off, Amy!" Veronica hissed, making Amy stop, hanging her head low.

Fred furrowed his brows, about to defend Amy when Maya's words completely derailed him.

"Well, Y/n fancies you told us herself. She's practically obsessed," Maya said, laughing snarkily and glancing at Veronica, who had an equally sardonic expression.

"Merlin, she wouldn't stop talking about how much she wants to fuck you," Veronica added, making Fred's eyes go wide. His blood boiled in his veins. He angrily clenched his fists. He knew her words were lies made up to put Y/n down, and he hated it.

"Veronica!" Amy quietly hissed, nodding toward someone. Fred looked over, and his heart dropped.

There she was, standing with her bag over her shoulder, her eyes wide, a pained expression on her face. She looked as though she was about to be sick.

Fred didn't know what to say, his mouth was dry, and his head spun with anger.

He watched her back away, then spin on her heel and run.

"Y/n!" He called starting to go after her when someone caught his arm again.

"What are you doing? She's a weirdo! A loser-" Veronica started to say, but Fred harshly cut her off.

"Shut your fucking mouth before I rip out your tongue!" He almost shouted, ripping himself away from her and running out of the great hall, ignoring the whispers.

Fred ran as fast as he could, looking left and right down the hallway, trying to spot her. He cursed when he couldn't spot her. He was starting to panic.

"She's probably at the lake,"

Fred whipped around, scowling down at Amy, narrowing his eyes, and opening his mouth to start going off on her.

"I tried to stop them, I really did, but they're my only friends. I know that doesn't excuse anything. I'm sorry I couldn't do more to stop them, but Y/n goes there to read. I've seen it," Amy says, toying with her fingers and avoiding Fred's eyes.

Fred's expression softened slightly, and he sighed, rubbing his jaw. He didn't know why, but he believed her. Amy was just a lonely girl who made friends with the wrong people.

"Find new friends," Was all he said before he walked past Amy picking up his pace.

Amy sighed, rubbing up and down her arms. She looked at the floor and swallowed, starting to walk back inside when she bumped into George.

-

Y/n-

I couldn't breathe. The tears wouldn't stop. I heaved, gasping between broken sobs, my head in my hands as I cried my heart out.

I sobbed heavily, lifting my eyes momentarily to look out over the lake, sniffling before more sobs escaped my lips.

He'd never look at me the same. He thinks I'm some weird stalker and that I'm obsessed with him. Why would they tell him? What have I done to them?

I'll never show my face again. I'll dig myself a grave and fling myself off the astronomy tower. Hopefully, I'll land inside it.

I tucked my knees to my chest, resting my chin atop them, tears still pouring from my eyes.

"Y/n?"

I quickly turned, my eyes widened momentarily, but I just closed them, resting my head back on my knees.

-

Third Person-

"Go on, tell me how much of a fucking loser I am, that I'm weird, and you'd never fancy someone like me," She said through sobs, her voice cracking.

Fred's eyes went wide. He completely crumbled when he saw her cry. He wished he could take away her pain. Absorb it all just so he could see one of her rare smiles.

"No, no, Y/n, fuck Veronica and Maya are idiots, mongrels. They don't amount to even half of the person you are," Fred said, sitting next to Y/n, his hand going to her chin, tilting her face toward him.

Y/n's eyes went wide, and her head reeled back out of instinct and surprise. Fred swallowed, pulling his hand away.

Y/n blinked at him, reaching up to wipe her eyes. She cleared her throat, looking at the ground and sniffling.

"They were lying," She spoke quietly, running her hands over her arms comfortingly.

There was a pang in Fred's heart. He assumed they were lying, but it still hurt to know the truth. That she didn't fancy him as he did her.

"I thought so," He said, rubbing his neck anxiously.

"I'm not a weirdo. I didn't talk about how much I wanted to fuck you. I swear! I'm not-" Y/n started, but Fred cut her off.

"You shouldn't be defensive. They're the fuckers who should be apologizingly. It's fine that you don't fancy me," Fred said with a small pained smile, trying to hide his disappointment.

-

Y/n-

I turned my head to look at him, furrowing my brows and tilting my head. Was he this dense? It didn't matter anyway. He doesn't like me.

"Fred, they didn't lie about that part," I said quietly, clearing my throat and keeping my eyes on the ground. From the corner of my eye, I swear I saw his head shoot up and his eyes widen.

"I'm gonna go-" I started to say, wiping my eyes again and standing up, but Fred grabbed my wrist as I stood, keeping me from walking away.

Fred stood up, looking at me intensely, his mouth was open, but he said nothing.

"Fuck it," He finally muttered, leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine, briefly kissing me.

He pulled back, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He stepped away from me, probably because of the shocked expression on my face.

"Sorry, I-"

I didn't let him finish his sentence. I grabbed his tie, pulling him down and crashing our lips together. He didn't hesitate, kissing me back with equal, if not more passion.

He cupped my cheek, deepening the kiss. He tasted better than I'd dreamed, and his lips were so soft.

When we finally broke apart. I scoffed sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest. Fred furrowed his brows.

"Why the hell would you call me your mate?"

Fred closed his eyes, sighing in what I think is relief.

"I thought you were about to slap me," He said with a laugh, smiling that cheeky smirk.

"I'm thinking about it,"

"Can I kiss you again?" He asks, eyes flickering to my lips. I smiled, stepping closer to him, keeping our eyes connected.

"Be my guest,"

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

My darling. [G.W.]

tw: post battle of hogwarts mourning(reader and fred), george needs a hug, please don't read if you're not into non-HEA endings it's just pure pain

--

"George?" said Fred, "Who are you talking to?"

My darling, of course, thought George. Silly Fred, can't he recognise her? We fought and won the war together!

George said, "My darling."

His smile was alarmingly sweet for someone who had been mourning for years. He held her within his calloused fingers, caressing the cold glazed porcelain of her smooth skin.

"Please, put her down." Fred pleaded.

"NO!" he screamed, but it was more of a pained indignant gasp, "YOU CAN'T TAKE HER FROM ME!"

He cried pathetically, "You'll... You'll wake her up..."

And he wished that Fred did. He wished that Fred was there to wake her up and that she was there with her beautiful eyes staring up at him.

George looked up from the urn labelled "Y/N Weasley (née L/N)", and into the shattered mirror in front of him, his knuckles bloodied.

He was the only one in the room with shattered mirrors and shelves full of her clothes and letters.

Rough game.

--

a/n: sorry guys i was feeling silly

[grangerhater]

WHO DID THIS TO YOU

pairing: George weasley x reader

warnings: violence

synopsis: he loved her but he masked it with hatred well until he had to make his hands bloody to protect her

hurt/comfort , enemies to lovers

In the bustling halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, George Weasley, one-half of the famous mischievous duo, sat with his twin brother, Fred, at the Gryffindor table. They chatted animatedly about their latest pranks as the students filed in for the start of another year. However, George's attention was momentarily diverted when he noticed his younger brother Ron entering the Great Hall, accompanied by a close friend he had known since their first year - Y/N.

As George watched the pair, his eyes narrowed with an inexplicable dislike. There was something about Y/N, who had always been Ron's best friend, that irritated him. Maybe it was their unwavering loyalty, or the way they effortlessly fit into Ron's life, but there was something about them that just didn't fit right. For some reason, George has never been able to shake his dislike of Y/N, even from their first meeting.

Throughout their years at Hogwarts, George made it his mission to torment Y/N at every opportunity. He took pleasure in watching them squirm under his pranks and jabs, fueled by an irrational animosity he couldn't shake. Y/N, however, seemed unfazed by George's antics and always had a witty retort ready. Despite their constant clashes, Y/N's smile never faded.

As the years passed, George's disdain for Y/N grew stronger. His friends and family grew increasingly concerned and Ron couldn't understand George's behavior. He had often confronted his brother about it, but George dismissed it as harmless banter. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. Why was he so fixated on Y/N? And why couldn't he let go of a simple grudge?

Ron watched with concern as his brother grew more consumed with his grudge against Y/N. He tried to talk sense into George, but to no avail. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't understand what was eating away at his brother.

Meanwhile, George couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. What did he have against Y/N, really? What drove him to make it his mission to torment them at every opportunity? It couldn't be as simple as a grudge. He was certain there was more to it than that.

But what?

George tried to ignore the feeling that he was forgetting something important, but it kept nagging at him. He knew there was more to it than just a grudge. What was it that he was missing? As he struggled to recall, he couldn't shake the sensation that he was overlooking something right in front of him.

Was it something Y/N had done? Something they'd said? Or was it something he had done? Nothing seemed to fit right. The answer seemed to be just outside his reach, but he couldn't quite grasp it. It was infuriating!

George's memory of first meeting Y/N came rushing back to him in a flash, and the pieces fell into place. He had spent so long hating Y/N, masking his true feelings with resentment and animosity. But on that first day, something Y/N had said had struck a chord in him. Could it be true, that deep down he was hiding a secret crush on them?

Y/N looked up from their book with a smile, seemingly unbothered by George's constant teasing. The sight of them made George's heart flutter, and he suddenly realized he didn't want to see them hurt.

George's heart fluttered as he watched Y/N, suddenly realizing how much he cared for them. All of his teasing and jabs suddenly seemed petty and insignificant, and he would do whatever it took to protect Y/N. As George looked on, Y/N's smile never faded, and he quickly realized that they had grown accustomed to his antics.

The more George watched Y/N, the more drawn to them he felt. Their laughter rang through the halls as they chatted with their classmates, oblivious to everything around them. George couldn't tear his eyes away, mesmerized by their smile and graceful movements.

The feelings began to overwhelm George, and he felt his heart thudding in his chest as he watched Y/N. The way they laughed with their friends, the way they moved with such effortless grace, it all made George feel a certain way. He realized that what he was feeling was more than just a crush. It was love.

And then, one night, after curfew as he was aimlessly walking around the castle deep in thought, George came across a shocking sight. Y/N was lying on the ground, injured and bleeding.

George was filled with rage. Who had hurt his Y/N? George's heart was pounding as he knelt down next to Y/N, taking in their bloody face and bruised body. How could anyone hurt them like this? And why?

George turned to the group of students, filled with righteous anger. "Who did this?" he roared, his voice echoing through the hall. The students who had gathered around Y/N scattered quickly, afraid of his wrath.

George turned back to Y/N, determined to take care of them. "What happened?" he asked, his voice gentle despite his rage. "Who hurt you?"

George gently examined Y/N's wounds, searching for clues as to who had attacked them. George's mind raced as he wondered who could be behind the attack. He had to figure it out fast, before Y/N was hurt again.

George turned to Y/N, his expression dark and determined. "I swear, I will find out who did this to you," he said, his voice resolute. "And when I do, they will pay for what they have done."

Y/N coughed and opened their eyes, and for a moment they didn't seem to register who was standing over them. But as they slowly came to their senses, they saw George and felt the fury in his eyes.

"It was a Slytherin," Y/N said quietly, coughing up a bit of blood. "They-they had a knife."

George felt his heart drop as Y/N told him what happened. He felt his anger bubble up again, and he knew he would make the Slytherin who had hurt them pay.

George gently helped Y/N to their feet, supporting them as they walked to his dorm. Y/N was still weak from their injuries, and they leaned heavily on George for support.

George's heart was racing as he led Y/N into his dorm, eager to get them somewhere safe. Once inside, he helped them onto his bed and made sure they were comfortable before leaving the room to find the Slytherin who had hurt them.

George burst out of his dorm, scanning the halls for the student who had tried to kill Y/N. He was determined to make them pay.

George searched frantically for the Slytherin who had attacked Y/N. He burst into the Slytherin common room and combed through the crowd of students, looking for anyone who matched the description Y/N had given him.

After frantically searching for a while, he finally spotted the student. They were standing alone near one of the large windows, staring out at the grounds below.

George knew what he had to do, and he didn't hesitate. He stormed over to the Slytherin and grabbed them by the collar, shoving them up against the wall.

George's hands were trembling with rage as he pressed the Slytherin up against the wall. They were the person who had attacked Y/N, and now they would pay for it.

The Slytherin tried to fight back, but George was too strong. He held them up, squeezing their collar with one hand

...and punching them in the face with the other. The Slytherin's eyes widened as they felt George's fist connect with their face, and for a moment they were helpless to fight back. Then, they lashed out at George, trying to free themselves from his grasp.

But George was too angry to let go. He hit the Slytherin again and again, determined to make them feel the pain they had inflicted on Y/N. The Slytherin was bruised and bloody by the time George was done, but he didn't stop.

George's rage had consumed him and he had lost all sense of reason. He continued to pummel the Slytherin with his fists, not caring about the damage he was inflicting. Blood spattered across the ground as he landed blow after blow and the Slytherin's face was quickly turning into a bloody mess

The Slytherin tried to fight back but George was too strong. He had a fierce determination in his eyes that made him seem almost inhuman. He didn't stop until the Slytherin was lying on the ground barely conscious and covered in bruises

George stood over the Slytherin's prone form, breathing heavily. He felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him as he looked down at the broken body beneath him. He had made sure that the Slytherin would never forget the lesson he had learned today.

"You disgust me," he spat, before turning on his heel and walking away. The Slytherin lay there for a few moments before slowly getting up and stumbling away, humiliated and defeated.

As George walked away, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He knew he might had gone too far but he had avenged Y/N's honor, and made sure that the Slytherin would never mess with them again.

George finally ceased his attack, leaving the Slytherin a bloody mess on the ground. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, feeling a surge of guilt washing over him.

Then he thought of Y/N, and the guilt vanished. That Slytherin had tried to hurt the person he cared about, and they deserved every bit of the punishment they had received.

He made his way back to his dorm room, entering to find Y/N still lying on his bed, looking very pale and shaky. He rushed over to their side and knelt down next to them.

Y/N looked up at George with weary eyes, their face still covered in blood. They tried to push themselves up, but they were too weak, and George helped them back onto the bed.

Y/N's face was bruised and swollen from their attack, and their eyes were clouded with tears. George felt his heart break as they started to cry, realizing how badly he had failed to protect them.

George's guilt came flooding back as he took Y/N's hand in his own and tried to comfort them. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Y/N looked up through their tears, and George could see the fear in their eyes. They had been attacked, and now they felt powerless and afraid. George felt his heart break for them, realizing the pain they must be feeling.

George caressed Y/N's cheek with a tender hand and leaned down to kiss them gently on the forehead. His lips brushed against their skin, and for a moment he was lost in their warmth. Y/N closed their eyes, their breaths trembling as they savored the comfort of George's touch.

George could feel Y/N's heart beating rapidly as he continued to caress their cheek with a gentle hand. He wanted to give them everything he had. To heal the wounds inflicted on their body and their soul. And with a determination that he didn't know he had, he softly brushed his lips against their own.

Y/N's heart fluttered in their chest as they tasted George's love for the first time. A wave of heat rushed through their body and they pulled George close, finally giving in to the feelings they had been hiding for so long.

George couldn't believe it. Y/N was kissing him back, sharing the same feelings he had been carrying in his heart for so long. And as they continued to kiss, it was like a dam breaking. All the love he had kept hidden inside finally came rushing out and he poured every ounce of himself into the kiss.

As they pulled away, they both gasped for breath and stared at each other. It was as if the entire world had disappeared and there was only Y/N and George. His eyes locked on theirs and he felt the whole Universe within their gaze.

As George and Y/N stared into each other's eyes, all their repressed emotions came rushing forward and they kissed again, this time with even more passion than before. They couldn't get enough of each other, and as they kissed, the walls between them crumbled into dust.

Their hearts were beating in sync, their breath mingling in the air. George felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders and he knew at that moment that he had found his soulmate. Y/N was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and he would never let anyone hurt her ever again.

[their-love]

Nightmare on the train

First chapter in a long story I'm working on over the summer (along with the requests)

For this chapter it's genderneutral!reader x Fred Weasley

Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Fred, George, Harry, Ron

Summary: Reader has a nightmare, freaks out, panic attack / anxiety attack, comfort from the Weasley's

Warning: use of "love" towards reader, nightmare, (short) mention of abuse, panic attack

Words: 1302

See end for A/N

“Get back here you useless little…” a man yelled at the top of his lungs. He had his arm raised above his head, ready to strike the second the young girl was within reach.

“Yes, father,” the young child said in a whisper. They stood tall and kept their face neutral even though they knew what awaited them. Without warning he struck their cheek, making them fall to the ground with sheer force.

“You useless little half-breed!” he yelled, standing above their small figure.

”All you had to do was follow my directions and this could had been avoided,” the man whispered in a creepy tone. Slowly he undid his belt, watching as his child's eyes widened in fear.

With one quick movement, they awoke and sat up. Their body shook with the intensity of their ragged breathing. The blood pounded in their ears. Their heart thudded too harshly in their chest, feet and hands tingled. They needed to get out of the compartment. They had to breathe.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked. Not having realised they weren't alone, they crawled into the corner of the room. Their breathing momentarily stopped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the young boy said raising his hands up, palms out in surrender. The young child, with dark coloured eyes, took a long, slow breath. They eyed the door and then the boy. Without a word, without taking another breath, they went for the door. As it slammed shut behind them, they rounded the corner out of sight. 

Left in the compartment were three concerned looking Gryffindors. Two young boys with red hair, obviously twins, shared a look. The last girl, with gorgeous black hair, stared at the door with a longing expression.

“Think it’s best to give them some space. If they're not back in ten, I’ll go check on them,” one of the twins said in a sombre tone, letting his head lean back against the wall. The others murmured in agreement before sitting back as well.

As the small bathroom door slammed shut behind them, they fell to the ground, still shaking as if soaking wet in the winter weather. Heart wrenching sobs escaped their body as they held their cramping stomach. They might as well had been drowning in the ocean with the feeling of being under water, rather than laying on the cold floor of the train towards another year at school. As their hands began to spasm and the walls seemed to close in on them, they hastily pushed themselves out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

The loud sound of the door slamming open and then shut caught the attention of students in the nearby compartments. One young boy with jet black hair stuck his head out and looked around. As his eyes caught the sight of the child sitting on the floor, clutching their abdomen, and wheezing he immediately walked towards them.

“Are you alright?” he asked, internally kicking himself for asking that when they were quite obviously not. The child only reacted by scrambling further away from him, their eyes blinded with unshed tears.

“Harry? What’s going… Y/N?” a young red head said as he walked out of the same compartment as the black haired boy. A liquorice wand fell out of his mouth as he realised what was going on.

“FRED! GEORGE!” he yelled in panic. Within seconds more curious heads looked out of the various compartments on the train. Two familiar red heads ran down the hallway at the mention of their names. Both stopped dead in their tracks at the horrid sound of shallow, frantic breaths.

“Right. Everyone back into your compartments. NOW!” George said in a tone of authority despite being a third-year student.

“You too, Ron,” he added spinning around to look at his younger brother. Most other students followed his orders and retreated, giving them some privacy. Ron took hold of Harry’s shirt and dragged him into the compartment without a word.

Fred had in the meantime kneeled next to his friend. In a gently tone he informed them of him putting his hand on their shoulder. At first, they recoiled, but soon after relaxed a bit, using his gentle touch as an anchor.

“Y/N, love. Listen to my voice, alright. You are on the train towards Hogwarts. You are not there, trust me,” Fred said as he watched them take in short rapid breaths while fidgeting with the jewellery around their neck.

“You are surrounded by me, your Fred - and George. You’ll be ‘right. Just take a deep breaths, please,” he said, trying his best to sound like his mother last time something similar had happened when they had visited the Burrows. 

Shortly after he took hold of their hand and placed it on his chest after explaining his actions. “Follow my breathing, love,” he whispered.

They let their hair fall out of the braid with shaky fingers. It shadowed over their face, hiding the pained expression and tears as they tried their best to follow his steady rhythm of breathing. In and out, in and out.

After a while, Fred felt their body shift all its weight onto him. He slumped against the wall and pulled them in for a hug. Y/N melted into his side and let the last few tears fall before closing their eyes.

“They're asleep,” Fred informed his brother, who was standing a few feet away, trying his best to be supportive without smothering any of them. George simply nodded, turned around and left. Fred let out a long shaky breath. His specialty was fun and pranks, not pain and sorrow. Befriending the young (YOUR HOUSE) in their second year had turned his world upside down. Not only did he have to deal with the bashing there came with a YOU HOUSE/Gryffindor friendship, but he also had to deal with the broken side of the young (BADGER/RAVEN/SNAKE/LION). All the good moments outweighed the bad, no doubt. The broken moments still left him hollow and sad on their behalf. 

A few minutes after the twin had left, he returned with a blanket and a water bottle. Without a word he draped the fuzzy red blanket around their young friend and left the bottle next to his brother. The twins shared a comforting look before George left them alone again. Fred rubbed his hands up and down the length of their arm in a soothing motion, feeling how even in their sleep they relaxed more.

They woke to someone nudging an elbow into their side. Annoyed, they groaned into the sweater of the boy holding them. The body shook as a gently laugh filled their ears. Slowly, looking up, they stared into the eyes of no other than their best friend. He smiled warmly down at them.

“We need to get our robes on, or Minnie will have our heads,” he said in his usual happy tone. Mumbling bad words, Y/N got up from the floor, stretched their aching body and extended a hand to their friend. Fred happily took the offered hand and once standing pulled them into a hug.

“Let’s have a good year, love,” he whispered into their hair as they rested their arms around his waist. To them, he had the perfect height. A head taller than them made him the perfect hugger as their head would fall to his chest. That way they could feel the steady beating of a healthy heart. Something that had always made them calmer.

“As long as the pranks don’t suffer, I wouldn’t mind a quit year,” they mumbled into his chest, causing him to laugh again.

“The pranks will never go away, my little one. George and I will make sure of it,” he said as he dragged them towards their compartment again.

A/N: This is actually chapter one of an old story I'm planning on continuing at some point this year (hopefully this summer). It's just been adapted to being genderneutral reader instead of a female as its originally intended.

SO, if I accidentally missed anything that makes it gendered, PLEASE, let me know and I'll immediately try to right the wrong!

Or any other mistakes. I LOVE to learn and won't get offended if explained nicely and in a useful way. Hate won't be tolerated here!

Let me know what you think?

[nancy-reads]

wake up

Pairing: Fred x Reader

CROSSPOSTED TO AO3

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Accidents are common in Quiddich. They happen nearly every game. But what happens when it's your boyfriend, Fred Weasley, and he might not make it out alive?

“First Quidditch game today!” You cheerfully bumped your boyfriend’s shoulder as you sat down for breakfast. “Are you nervous?”

“Not as long as a certain someone will be cheering for me,” Fred smirked. 

“Really?” you asked playfully. “And who could this ‘certain someone’ be?”

“Oh you know, just this devastatingly beautiful girl. She’s got the most gorgeous eyes in the world, and the prettiest hair…”

You couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “So you only like her for her looks then?”

Fred opened his mouth, but before he could answer, George and Lee began to make retching noises from across the table.

“In case you didn’t notice, there are other people here,” George said. “People who are trying to enjoy this lovely meal.”

“You mean you don’t enjoy hearing about how much I adore my-” Fred stopped as a piece of toast smacked him in the face. He swivelled to face Lee, jaw-dropping in mock anger. “How dare you!”

He grabbed his toast and prepared to toss it right back until you placed your hand on his shoulder. “Come on Freddie, let's walk to the pitch and get away from these poor, sad people who don’t know what it's like to be in love,” you said, sarcasm colouring your tone.

George stuck his tongue out at you as you grabbed Fred’s hand and dragged him away.

-

He held your hand the whole walk down to the pitch, claiming “I don’t want you to get cold!”

You hid your blush. “Freddie, it’s hot as Merlin’s balls out here.”

“Well if you want me to stop..”

“Shut up.”

“Sweetheart, I know you love me.”

“I’m supporting Ravenclaw.”

He placed his hand (the one that wasn’t holding yours) on his chest and gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you said, slowing down as you reached the locker room. Before he could head in, you raised yourself to your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. “For luck.”

Fred pouted. “I can’t have a real kiss?”

“Win the game and we’ll see.”

-

It was a perfect day for Quidditch. Sunny skies, barely any wind, and warm enough that you didn’t need your Gryffindor scarf. The stands were full of people sporting red and gold colors and holding signs in support of your team. 

Even though the teams hadn’t even entered the pitch yet, both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw sides were already chanting cheers and conjuring red and blue smoke. 

You tapped your foot impatiently as you waited for him to fly onto the field. Quidditch may not have been your favourite activity, but you came to support both Fred and your brother Oliver. 

“I wonder who’ll win this one,” your best friend asked. “I mean, Quidditch was cancelled last year, so we don’t really have a base for this one.”

Oliver had already given you an entire lecture on Gryffindors chances for the year, but you elected to be optimistic. 

“Come on, Fay. There's no way we don’t have this in the bag. Cho Chang versus Harry Potter? Ravenclaw doesn’t have a chance.”

“Don’t jinx it!” Fay paused for a moment, then smirked. “And aren’t you forgetting your favourite player?”

 “Shut up. Of course Fred has got this, easy. The Ravenclaw beaters are shit.”

-

The Ravenclaw beaters were, unfortunately, not shit. 

As Fred and the rest of the team flew onto the pitch, you cheered as loudly as you could, beaming as your favorite player blew you a kiss. Oliver and Flint did their typical handshake, and the match began. 

Your watched Fred for the majority of the game, occasionally pausing to watch Oliver block a goal or one of the chasers score. It didn’t look like either of the seekers had seen the snitch yet, so you settled in, expecting a long game. 

The Ravenclaw beaters were ruthless; it was clear they’d taken some inspiration from Slytherin’s typical strategy. They were hitting Blugers at everyone, even if the players weren’t anywhere near the Quaffle. You had no idea how they hadn’t gotten any fouls yet.

“And Samuels sends a Bludger hurtling toward Alicia-- but one of the Weasley twins is on his way!” Lee announced. “And it’s blocked by Fred Weasley, nice one and--”

It seemed to happen in slow motion. 

“And Inglebee sends another Bludger-- WATCH OUT!!”

Inglebee’s Bludger slammed into Fred’s skull, just above his right ear. Even from so far away, you could see the gush of red exploding from his head as the Bludger made contact. 

Someone was screaming. It might have been you.

Fred immediately went limp and began to slide off his broom. 

By this point, you’re running. Running faster than you ever have in your life, racing down the stairs of the stands, running, running, running.

The stands have never been so silent. You couldn’t hear a thing when you reached the field,

You reached Fred before even McGonagall. He’s lying on the ground, surrounded by the whole team, bleeding more than you’ve ever seen a person bleed. You never knew how much blood a person’s body held until this moment. 

No one spoke. You’d never seen George so silent or so pale.

You knelt next to him and took his hand. It was faint, but you could still feel the beat of his pulse. 

He’s alive.

He’s alive.

He’s alive.

You finally breathed.

After what felt like forever, the professors arrived.

“Move! All of you!” McGonagall called, flicking her wand and conjuring a stretcher. “Out of the way!”

Everyone moved, faces sober as they allowed McGonagall to work.

Everyone, except you and George. You made eye contact as you clutched Fred’s hand and he brushed Fred’s hair back. 

“Miss Wood, Mr Weasley, we need you to move, he needs to go to the hospital wing as soon as possible,” McGonagall said, fear creeping into her voice. 

Why won’t your body move? You know it's important. You know that he has to get treatment. 

Then why won’t your legs work?

You clutched his hand tighter.

“Both of you, move, please,” McGonagall asked again. “Or we will be forced to remove you.”

Merlin, if he could just open his eyes, just move a little bit so that you would know that he’s okay.

“C’mon Nancy,” your brother touched your shoulder. “You’ll see him in a second.”

As Oliver pulled you away, allowing the professors to work, Percy pulled George towards you. Neither of you spoke, simply watching as they loaded him onto a stretcher and rushed him to the hospital wing

As you followed the team and the rest of the Weasleys to the hospital wing, you barely noticed the tears flowing down your cheeks and the blood staining your pants. 

-

The next thing you remember is sitting in the hospital wing. You think Madam Pomfrey tried to throw the team out, but you couldn’t remember.

Still, it was silent as she worked, muttering healing charms and feeding him potions. Oliver’s hand never left your shoulder, and you squeezed George’s hand when it almost got to be too much. 

A few moments later, Lee appeared, eyes red, and held George’s other hand.

An hour or so later, Fred’s parents arrived. Molly was pale, her red hair standing out starkly against her skin. Her hands shook, and she held tightly onto her husband as she joined our vigil.

Arthur blinked back tears and stood tall as you all waited. His hands shook too, but he grabbed Molly’s to support himself.

You tried to push the thoughts away that increased with each passing moment. 

What if Fred died?

What if you never saw his smile or heard his laugh again?

What if you were never able to tell him that you loved him again?

Bludger wounds weren’t uncommon in Quidditch. They happened nearly once a game, foolish sport. But if it was taking this long to heal him…

Magic couldn’t solve everything.

And so, you waited. 

-

Hours later, Madam Pomfrey emerged. She started to pull Molly and Arther away, but they waved her away and she spoke to all of us.

After a deep breath, she said. “I’ve done everything I can. Head wounds are dangerous, even for a wizard, and there's no guarantee. Even if he wakes up, he may have altered memories, or be very different from how you remember him.”

Fuck.

Your laughing, prankster, stupid Fred could be gone? He could have forgotten everything? 

The Freddie you knew could be gone forever. 

Your voice cracked as you asked, “When will he wake up?”

Madam Pomfrey blinked very hard before she answered. “It impossible to know, however, I would estimate that if he doesn’t wake within the week then,” she cleared her throat. “Then, we may have to begin making alternate arrangements.”

Molly let out a sob, and Ginny moved to stroke her back, eyes shining with tears. George simply stood there, eyes wide. You squeezed his hand, and he seemed to come back to reality as he covered his face in his hands.

“I can’t believe it. Four hours ago we were joking about blowing up a few toilets tonight and now…”

You nodded. “I know. I didn’t even kiss him goodbye.”

He didn’t respond, and Lee and Oliver were silent as well.

For the first time today, you took in who was actually in the hospital wing. Harry sat with Ron a few feet away, whispering to each other. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie were sitting together as well, and all of their eyes were red and full of tears. Alicia had her head on Angelina’s shoulder, and Katie had placed her head on her lap. 

Molly and Arther were sat with Ginny and Percy, all of them looking grave. Molly was beside herself, her sobs echoing throughout the hospital wing. 

After a few moments, Angelina’s group rose. She sniffled before saying:

“We’re going to go update our house. I-I’m sure they all want news.”

The groups nodded, and Percy stood. “Yes, that's er,” he sniffed. “That's a great idea. As Head Boy, I’ll come with you to deliver the news.”

The four of them left, and your vigil continued. 

-

McGonagall forced everyone to go back to their dormitories that night. By some miracle, you weren’t bombarded with questions about your boyfriend, although you thought that was mostly due to Oliver threatening everyone.

Even Fay, who’s the nosiest person you knew, didn’t pry. All she did was give you a hug and order you into bed as soon as you got back, even going as far as to bring you warm milk from the kitchens. 

Still, you didn’t sleep. Not a wink. All you could think about was your Freddie, sitting in the hospital wing, possibly dead or worse. 

It was difficult enough, sleeping without his arms wrapped around you and your head tucked into his shoulder, but sleeping was a whole new level of difficulty when he could be dead and you wouldn’t know.

You may never be able to fall asleep with him again.

As soon as it was light enough outside, you got out of bed and immediately set out for the hospital wing. You weren’t surprised to see George sitting at Fred’s bedside when you arrived. 

He looked up at you as you pulled the chair toward Fred’s bed. 

“Anything?” you asked.

“Nothing.”

You nodded and grabbed Fred’s hand, holding it until Madam Pomfrey ordered you out.

-

That’s how your days went for the week. You woke up, visited Fred until Madam Pomfrey threw you out, went to class, visited Fred, went back to class, choked down dinner, and visited Fred. 

So, it wasn’t uncommon that you were the only person in the hospital wing, especially when George had class. Madam Pomfrey gave you a few glares, however, she let you stay for the most part.

It was on the last day of the week, the last day he had to wake up when it happened. You’d talked to him all week, telling him little anecdotes and keeping him up with classes, but this was different. 

“Yeah, and next week we’re going to be having our test on counter-jinxes, so you better wake up in time to take it, or you're going to be completely behind.” 

Obviously, he didn’t respond. For some reason, your eyes began to fill with tears.

“Please, Freddie. You need to wake up,” tears streamed down your face and you kissed his knuckle. “The team needs you to wake up. Your family needs you to wake up,” you paused. “I need you to wake up.”

Was it just your imagination, or did he twitch slightly when you said that?

“God, I wish I kissed you before the game. Then at least we would have had a proper goodbye,” you kissed him on the forehead. “I guess that will have to do.”

He stirred again.

“Freddie?”

You waited a moment, hoping and praying and wishing, that maybe, just maybe, he might wake up.

“Sweetheart?” he slurred. “Are you there?”

“Thank Merlin!” you sobbed. “Oh my god, Freddie I can’t believe it.” You grabbed his face and began to kiss him all over. “I thought you were dead! Madam Pomfrey said you might not wake up!”

He laughed weakly. “You thought some Bludger could take me out? Give me a break,” he paused for a moment, staring right at you. “I’d never leave you alone.”

You sniffed and blinked back tears. “Good. At least you got some sense knocked into you,” you paused. “Just please, never do that again.”

He squeezed your hand. “Sweetheart, I promise you that I’ll always wake up.”

-

[dreamcubed]

soon you’ll get better | george weasley x reader

song; soon you'll get better [taylor swift, the chicks] pairing; george weasley x gender neutral!reader genre; established relationship, heavy angst, hurt comfort, slight fluff word count; 1,4k timeline; post-second wizarding war warnings; talk of fred's death, grief summary; george was a broken man after the untimely death of his built-in best friend, and as his lover you were at a loss of how to help his grief

masterlist

"this won't go back to normal, if it ever was."

—————————————————

You could never forget the look in George's eyes when he realised his twin brother was dead. It was ingrained in your head like a tattooed memory.

The pain and the anguish. The tears and the sobs. The pure grief.

You were upset too, of course. You loved Fred like a best friend, like a brother, and to have him ripped away from you so soon was heartbreaking. But you also knew what George would be feeling would be ten times worse - they had been attached at the hip since they were in utero.

You were also scared: all throughout the funeral planning and the initial stage of mourning. With how badly this would affect George, what if it drove him to suicide? It didn't help that the state of depression he entered afterwards was beyond any you had ever witnessed before - but maybe this was your first time getting the brunt of it as George was your lover.

He switched between phases of constant sobbing and being emotionless a lot. It hurt, and you hated to admit how prepared you were to have to contact St Mungo's.

The both of you were engaged, as well, but the wedding plans had been put on hold ever since the Battle of Hogwarts. You hadn't even brought them up because you didn't know how suggesting such a happy event would go with George since his twin brother wouldn't be able to be there for it. Especially because Fred would have obviously been his best man.

"Darling?" you spoke when you heard the front door to your shared flat shut.

No reply, but that was how he usually was these days. Relatively non-verbal.

You turned your head from washing the dishes when you heard him enter the kitchen and stand still for a few moments, staring into space.

"Georgie?" you said more gently, your voice breaking. You had tried so hard to be strong for him through his grief, but you were reaching your limit.

His eyes met yours with furrowed eyebrows.

"Should we, uh, should we get a takeaway for dinner?" you asked, clearing your throat to re-stabilise your voice.

George gave the slightest of shrugs, moving further into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He brushed your shoulder as he reached the sink, which made you jolt instinctively. Truth was, you hadn't touched George since the first night after Fred's death, when he sobbed into your arms until sunrise. Ever since, he had leaned away from affection.

The closest you got anymore was sharing a bed.

He noticed your movement and stopped before he turned the tap on, looking down at you with terrifyingly blank eyes.

For a second, regret glinted in them.

"I'm sorry, darling, I'm sorry," he spoke, dropping the glass in the sink and quickly disappearing into the bedroom.

You followed him but stopped to stand outside of the door when you heard his crying. And then tears were flooding down your cheeks, in flood loads as you rarely let yourself cry, causing it to build up. You had taken to hiding your feelings for George, as you didn't want him to deal with your grief as well as his own. As his sobs grew more choked, you turned around and sank to the floor with your back pressed against the door.

This divide between you was getting too much, because you still loved him more than anything.

***

One thing was for sure: the atmosphere of your flat wasn't improving anyone's mood. Some brighter colours couldn't hurt, right? You were sick of staring at the pale beige walls and wishing you could turn back time.

So there you were, in a shop down the road from your flat in Diagon Alley, staring at the vast range of paints for you to choose from. The kitchen would be nice in golden yellow. The living room would be pleasant in a pastel blue - not a dark depressing blue, of course. Your bedroom? That could be green.

You made your choices and headed over to the till, where the shop owner greeted you with familiarity: all the shop owners knew each other in Diagon Alley, and as a co-owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, you were no exception.

"How's George?" he asked.

You stilled and chewed on your lips, "Getting there." You weren't sure if that was true.

The shop owner nodded with a kind smile, "See you again soon."

"Yeah, thanks," you gave him the happiest smile you could before turning around and leaving.

***

George entered the flat to the smell of fresh paint and the sight of linen cloths draped over the furniture.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" you turned around from where you stood holding your wand, using it to flawlessly guide the roller over the wall from a distance.

"It's bright," he stated.

"That's the point."

He hummed as you turned back around, and you didn't hear him approach before his arms were wrapped around your back and his head was on your shoulder.

You stiffened briefly, but then relaxed into the warmth that you had missed ever so dearly.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I've been such a bad fiancé."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is," his voice broke slightly as he spoke, "I've been too focused on the person I've lost when I should be focused on the people I still have."

"He was your brother and best friend, you can't help but think about him."

He moved around to in front of you, "He was your best friend too. You've spent all this time comforting me but I've spent none of this time comforting you."

You remained silent as you stared up at him.

"And- I'm just- I'm sorry. You can't lie and say I haven't been a bad partner when you flinched yesterday when I touched you. That's how little affection I've showed you."

"I've missed you," you let yourself say.

"I know, I've missed you too," he embraced you again.

"I know this won't go back to normal, if it ever was," you said, "But I want us to live again-" you took a deep breath, "-and I know Fred would want that too."

George nodded.

"I also know I'll never understand the same level of grief you have, but there's not a day that I won't try."

He shook his head this time, "You've done too much for me, it's time that I help you instead." He picked up a paint brush. "What say we do this the muggle way?"

You cracked a smile.

***

"Merlin, Freddie, slow down!" you called, running after your son through the downstairs rooms.

"Catch me if you can!" he called back.

"What's all the ruckus?" your husband said as he opened the front door, "I can hear you from outside."

Your son squealed, "Daddy!" and ran over to greet the ginger man.

"Hey, little man, how's your day been?" George asked as he picked the boy up.

"So much fun!"

"For him, maybe, but I think my legs are gonna kill me from all this running around," you scoffed.

"No, did you give somebody a hard time, Freddie?"

The boy shook his head but couldn't hide the mischievous grin on his face.

"Like father, like son," you sighed.

George moved over to you to greet you with a peck on the lips, "How was your day, my love?"

"Fine, it was fine," you smiled, "Dinner's nearly ready."

"Ooh, lovely," he put his son down and took his shoes off, before heading into the bright yellow kitchen.

You had long since moved out of the flat above the shop and into a lovely big house, but you had kept the bright colour scheme as a reminder of your commitment to living again.

Your fridge had many newer moving photos of your small family pinned up by magnets, including photos of your wedding day - but it also had the odd photo of your Hogwarts days with both the twins. Fred Sr would never be forgotten, you had to live for him and his memory.

Little Freddie knew all too many stories about his amazing uncle of whom he was named after.

And as you watched your son attempt to help his father lay the table, you couldn't help but feel as if Fred was still with you all in the room, pleased to see that you were happier once again.

———————————————

masterlist

written; 17/02/2023 —> 26/02/2023 published; 27/02/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

[sunflowerxthoughts]

B's Masterlist ⭐️

Requests are currently open! Remember you can send them in as long as you are +18!

Fics:

⭐️ Eddie Munson:

Just the two of us - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Birthdays - Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Here - Rockstar! Eddie Munson x Actress! Reader

⭐️ James Potter

⭐️ Remus Lupin

⭐️ Sirius Black

The one that got away - Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

⭐️ Poly! Marauders

⭐️ Fred Weasley

⭐️ Spencer Reid

Series:

Rockstar! Eddie Munson x Nepo!Reader

The Jukebox series (coming soon)

Thoughts and hcs:

Eddie fucking hates the Beatles

Wayne is very aware of the people around Eddie

Eddie is heartbroken after a hatefuck

First Valentine's with Eddie

Eddie Munson x Hispanic!Reader

James Potter will always flirt with you until you flirt back

First date with Jamie

Some things I think James would love

Dealer!Remus after a party

Poly!Marauders x Anxious Reader

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me" with Rem

Spencer comforts reader after a long week

[arianwyn-art]

just thinking about Professor!Remus and how he had to watch the next generation

about how he probably saw Seamus and Dean falling in love and was reminded of him and sirius, two idiots madly oblivious to each other but trying as hard as they could to make it to the future together

how he had to watch a bright, peppy jock end up with a reserved, dark haired boy with powerful potential and could only think about two boys long ago, willing to set the world on fire for each other (not to mention the anger from the older brother at this union, he thinks with a rueful smile)

in the halls, a white haired girl with a penchant for the odd, a fiery boy who wanted nothing more but to be part of the group, a shy boy with an affinity for plants and oversized sweaters, two, sometimes four troublemakers who left a smile and a painful ache every time he saw them

his friends, his lost, dead friends, reflected in so many ways around him, in their children and in the legacy they left behind.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Cold hands, Warm Heart

Ghost Fred X Reader

You wouldn’t say you and Fred weren’t the closest, but to say his death didn’t bother you was an understatement. You never got a chance to correct your feelings, and it’s left you hollow. You figured George still deserved to be checked on, as well. He lost his twin after all. Little did you know, someone was praying you would show your face around the shop again.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Talks About Death, implied suicidal tendencies, it is a fluffy fic don’t worry.

Commissions open

“Georgie-!” You would beam, as George would turn around. It took you a few shouts, but he finally heard you. As if you could sue him. He’s missing an ear, in a busy shop like WWW. The fact he heard you, at ALL, was a blessing from Merlin himself. Oh how it was so vivid, and lively. Despite the war, there was so much love and life still. Fred would be proud. You knew he would be.

“How are you-?” You asked, as you rubbed his arm. Trying to test the waters carefully. Wizard twins aren’t the same as muggle twins, after all. You wanted to see where his head was. He’s your friend, after all. A friend that has seen so much, so young. How it hurt your heart to see the age in his face.

“Could be worse….Could be better.” He would admit to you, as you patted his cheek. You wondered who was more hurt by the passing, sometimes. Some days you were kept up at night. Wondering if you said anything, admit your feelings, that things could have been different. It’s haunting, and you tried to push it back.

“Hey, no long faces here. Go and run around. Be a kid again, and all that jazz.” He would quickly call you out, able to read you like a book. You would give a huff, as the taller man ruffled your hair. Those damn Weasleys. Maybe running around the shop would be nice. See what new products he’s come up with.

Up the stairs you went. Enjoying the beautiful sounds, and wonderful colors. How the world was just in this bubble of warmth. You wondered how George was able to keep up such a healthy environment, while being all on his own. Those two couldn’t be separated. Suppose death just wanted to prove that they could.

Once you found an interesting floor, you began to look around. It was up on the higher levels, so you were able to have a bit of privacy. Let you think a bit, as you would hold a potion in your fingers. Such fond memories filled your heart, as you recalled the origins of the product. Oh you swore you would never forgive Fred for sneaking this in your cup. Fred…..

“You REALLY want that? Damn, thought I knew you better than that.” You heard behind you, making your eyes roll. “Har Har. Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic.” You defended back, before placing it on the shelf. You tsked, and turned. Your brow was raised, as you were met with no one behind you. You swore you heard George, clear as day, behind you.

Maybe he was being playful. Apparition and all that, but you didn’t hear the familiar whip crack it echoed. Did he just change the sound? If anyone could, it’ll be a Weasley twin. You brushed it off, as you kept walking. Maybe he just had to snap back downstairs, given he’s the only CEO here again.

Over the railing you looked, as you admired the floors below you. Such as that familiar ginger tending to the kids. Showing them some muggle trinkets, and seeming to still be kicking. That was comforting, until you heard something that made your blood run cold.

“Welcome to the nosebleed seats. Never thought the shop could get this high.” You heard behind you, while your eyes were still glued on George. That’s impossible. George was right in front of your eyes, yet you clearly heard him behind you. Your body felt utterly frightened, and you were drawing your wand. With a spin, your soul wanted to leave your body. Just like how his did the same.

It was Fred. Right there, but not in the flesh. In a mimic of his living twins attire, but in shades of transparent blue. That same hair cut, smile, and eyes. Just in shades of that deathly blue hue. All the same, if not for keeping his ear. He was right there, and your brain was trying so hard to process it. Seems it wasn’t the first time, as the ghost shrugged.

“You really think I would leave George behind that easy? Thought you knew me better than that. I am so hurt.” He gasped, as he placed his hand over his heart. Ever playful, even in the grave. As if you could really register that, as your eyes were watering from the realization. Not the first time for him, as he opened his arms.

“Come on. I’ve gotten this ghost thing down, thanks to Peeves. Bring it in.” He ordered, and you did. You hugged him, with your wand clattering to the ground. It was a strange feeling, as you held him. It was like hugging silk. It was so cold, soft, light. As if embracing a cloud. How those cold fingers would stroke through your hair, and chill you to your core. You don’t know how long you were like this. You just had to cry it out. As if he would rush you. Maybe you were imagining things, but you swore you felt something cold drip onto your head. Fading through, as if just whispering into reality. Just for a moment.

“I know. I know.” He hushed, as he kept playing with your hair, while George got worried on your whereabouts. Having expected you to come see him again. That was the only man to ever make you want to separate from the grips of deaths fingers. The sound of his foot steps were on deaf ears, ironically enough, as you never wanted to let Fred go again.

“If you hug him any tighter, you’ll be dragged to the grave next-!” George snorted, as he found where you were. “About time you saw him. He was begging me to invite you over some time. ‘Oh please George. I miss em so much-! Oh I miss em!’ And ugh-! Out of all the things to wail about-!” He complained, before the dead twin was quick to let go. Now smacking his younger twin on the back of the head.

You couldn’t help your laughter, as you wiped your tears away. You should have known better. Of course Fred would haunt the shop. What were you thinking? You laughed, as George kept hanging Fred’s dirty laundry about you. Suppose the feelings had been more mutual than you thought.

“Is that what will make you move on? Finally getting laid by your childhood crush?” George asked, before things were suddenly flying after him. A very flustered, and angry, ghost isn’t the safest thing to deal with. “OK IM LEAVING IM LEAVING-!” George shrieked, as he quickly ran down the stairs. Leaving you both alone, mostly.

“I’ve never dated a ghost before….I guess there’s a first time for everything.” You tried to be playful, or else you’ll cry all over again. Suppose those were the right words, as it calmed down that angry ghost. Maybe even made him blush, but the dead don’t really have a heart beat to work with. Maybe it was your imagination.

“I mean, us Weasley twins do like to experiment.” Fred tried to play it cool, by resting his hand on a shelf. Leaning on it, like he always did in school. Course, he ended up just phasing through it. Now falling through the stock, and down through a floor. He quickly flew back up, and brushed himself off. “You didn’t see shit-“ He warned, as you giggled.

You wondered how long the feelings were returned, and if he had similar thoughts. Did he regret never telling you, before he died? Were you one of the people keeping him from moving on? Did he think about you, in his final moments? You had so many questions, but you settled on just one. For now, anyway.

How does one, as they say, Smooch A Ghost-?

@george-weasleys-girl

[wixafix]

George Weasley X Reader

Hurt/ comfort. Domestic fluff. Determined.

You don't want to get out of bed, but you're both going to the burrow today.

We can do this.

"Come on, Darling." George grabbed both of your hands as you feebly fought to stay in bed.

"It's cold in the out." The winter sun was weak so there wasn't much to urge you into awakeness, you could hear the rain though so there was that. You loved the smell of the rain and the name of it, Petrichor. It just, it was nice.

"Yes but then you put clothes on and it's nice and warm again."

"Is not, don't lie to me." You yelp when the duvet is yanked off and George throws you over his shoulder. "George! It's cold."

"It's winter."

"We're magic. It shouldn't have to be cold."

"You hate the heat, you hate cold." George set back down on your feet, near the wardrobe, with a laugh,

"I hate mornings." This one especially because you had to get George to go to the Burrow and George hated the Burrow since then because it wasn't what it used to be, now all melancholy. You layer smartish clothes for the cold and grab one of George's cloaks before heading down to join breakfast, buttering the toast that had popped out the toaster.

While you both loved magic, Muggle appliances were convenient and it was easy to ward rooms to keep the magic inside like George's lab and your what ever the fuck you fancy at the time. One time it was sticky glitter bombs another it was making your own paper.

"Dressed?"

"Yep. We have somewhere to be before we go to the restaurant, you know that right?" George's mood dropped instantly and you hated screwing his happy morning up. You could feel the pain tinge the air.

"Yeah. Will you apparate? If I have to well end up split between New York and Timbuktu." You both made the conscious decision to have just a normal fireplace, one that you didn't connect to the floo network because neither of you fancied having people pop in and out whenever, family or not.

"Of course. I happen to like our halves together, love." George tried a smile that was a little tight at the corners and little thinner than it usually was. You kissed the corner of his mouth before plating up the toast as he carried over the the eggs and tea. "We won't be there long, but I have winter daisy chain."

"I don't know where I'd be without you, Darling." He threaded his fingers through yours, across the table. Smile a little gentler and crow's feet where his smile reached his pretty brown eyes.

"Locked up in your shop like a mad scientist but I'd love you regardless." George snorted a little laugh and nodded in agreement, his long hair falling out of the bun and across his forehead. You always loved his long hair when he had it in Hogwarts and only encouraged him to grow it back out when he asked if he should. "The real question is where would I be without you?" George smiled, struggling still probably.

The both of you lifted a weight off eachother and bore it together and fought it together and usually you won together.

Like today, when, after you'd tidied breakfast up you held cupped both sides of George's face and pressed a kiss to his worry bitten lips. His arm wrapping tight around your waist and fingers tangling with the hair at the nape of your neck as he held you close and only reluctantly let you go.

A look, fingers intertwined and with wand in hand, you both gave one last glance and a nod and you disapparated.

~~{ Wixafix [Wixabear] }~~

[tearingskies]

dead and gone (life goes on)

Read on AO3 or below the cut

George learns how to go on without Fred.

TW: spiralling and mentions of death

In the end, it’s not the body or the funeral or even the heart-wrenching, gutted cries of his mother, but rather the open-ended joke without a punchline that finally makes it sink in for George. 

He sits at the table unmoving, every muscle in his body constricting as he waits for a quip to fill the oppressive silence that has overtaken the Burrow. It extends, inflating limitlessly as a quiet ringing starts in his ears. It’s like something has burst in his chest. Something that now presses against his heart and squeezes it tightly in a cold lover’s embrace.

Seconds tick by and he faintly hears someone say something that doesn’t have an impact in this wretched alternative universe he must be living in. Because there’s always a punchline with Gred and Forge. 

The first time they truly pranked someone was Percy when they were three years old. The pompous git had been acting all high and mighty and confiscating some “unsafe” device from them, thus prompting the very levelheaded and mature response of having his fingers turn into rolls of sticky tape that unwinded and hit his face repeatedly. 

George remembers high-fiving Fred for the coordinated piece of accidental magic and running outside to pull garden gnomes’ ears as Percy went wailing to their mother. It was the beginning of their joint lives. Lives that were supposed to remain intertwined until the day their hearts stopped beating while they sat side by side in creaky rocking chairs.��

But now George is here and Fred is not and the punchline hangs in a vacuum. 

“He’s dead,” he whispers. “He’s gone.”

Locks pop open and he breaks. Swirling, tumbling, rocketing through memories, possibilities, and countless what-ifs that would never happen. He’s a comet racing towards a black hole aiming to suck his very soul dry. 

And then there are arms curling around his shoulders, and a warm hand pressing solidly against his racing heart to ground him before he floats away. 

George swallows a shaky breath and becomes aware of the salty streams on his cheeks. 

“Yes, George. He’s gone.” 

It’s Ginny, because of course it is. His bulletproof, bold sister who has flown circles around the rest of them, jinxed Fred and him countless times for their silly jokes, and faced horrors beyond imagination yet carried on living. She’s the one who has never sugarcoated things for him, the one George can always count on to tell the hard truths when it’s time for them to be said. 

He leans against her, sobs breaking free from his throat like choked hiccups. Ginny’s fingers sooth through his hair while the hand on his chest begins tapping a small, steady beat on his heart. Tu-tum, tu-tum, tu-tum. 

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass. George starts to feel the pressure on his chest loosen. He draws in rapid breaths and clutches Ginny’s arm like a lifeline. 

“He- He didn’t finish the joke,” he mumbles out, words folding together in of-kilter syllables. 

He faintly hears his mother crying, sees the grim, grieving faces of his brothers, and feels his father’s palpable sadness radiating across the table. 

“Yes, he did,” Ginny says to his ear, voice firm and sure like it’s an irrevocable fact. “He’s just keeping the good stuff to himself for now.“

George wants to believe her. That there’s a place beyond where his twin has found peace and watches over him. A place where they will meet again one day. He misses the echo of another who shares his thoughts and finishes his sentences, those looks they shared and instinctively knew what the other was thinking. How the world just worked with them in it together. Now it feels like everywhere he looks, the colours are dimmer and he doesn’t know where he fits anymore. 

Fred was the self-assured one, the life of the party, who lit up every room he walked into. George doesn’t think he’s ever found quite the same yearning to live every day like there’s no tomorrow as Fred had. It feels like a waste that he’s not the one still breathing. 

George looks down at the two mismatched watches that wrap their leather bands around his right arm. One has a russet background and warping iron tendrils curling around the clock face, while the other is a deep forest green with cracked glass courtesy of a prank gone wrong in their seventh year. They tick away in harmony, like two heartbeats pulsing against his skin. He touches the crack on the clock closer to him and smiles ruefully at the memories it holds. He hasn’t removed it since he first put it on after the funeral. 

“I miss him.” 

“I know, George,” Ginny says. “I miss him too.”

And perhaps that, the knowledge that he’s not alone in his pain, is what kickstarts his mind again. He races past lacklustre trunks filled with memories of mischief and weaves between tall, swaying shelves full of half-completed ideas and concepts. His heart aches, but it beats the same steady rhythm as its twin somewhere beyond. 

What is life without Fred? For George, it seems like a bleak, faded existence that he already despises. But it’s a dishonour, a complete betrayal of all the things his better half stood for to wilt and wallow in grief and bitterness while the world awaits in bubbling colour and tittering sound. Three months is long enough — far too long if you’d ask Fred, he thinks — to merely exist when another can’t live. It’s the burden and responsibility of the living to go on and live. George wants to live for Fred, no matter how much the thought of it may hurt his soul. Because Fred Weasley deserves to live on in humour and strength and Skiving Snackboxes. 

So, here he is: “We…I need to reopen the shop.”

“Oh, George, do you think that’s a good idea, dear?” his mother worries. “Don’t you think it might be too overwhelming? And it’s so soon, you really ought to rest…”

“No. No, I-” George falters, his voice cracking with emotion. ”He’d want me, all of us, to go on and live like he’d have lived. With laughter and stupid pranks and ear jokes.”

Ron claps him on the shoulder, firm and comforting in a way that wouldn’t have ordinarily come to mind when thinking of him. At least compared to how George remembers seeing him before the war. “And we’ll help, George. Get things up and running like he would’ve wanted.”

George smiles wetly at the nods and sounds of agreement reverberating from his family. 

“I can have a look at the books, help out in the office,” Percy volunteers. 

“And I’m sure Verity would love to help – she knows all the everyday stuff,” Ginny pipes up with an encouraging grin. George nods a little. 

Harry shifts across the table and looks at Hermione and Ron before speaking up, “We’ve um, we’ve got some gold from the Ministry that needs a solid investment. I figured since the last one turned out so well, it’s a guaranteed thing, really.” He rustles his hair awkwardly while Hermione smiles softly. 

George chuckles with a half sob, “Lifetime’s worth of complimentary dungbombs for you three.” The trio wince abashed at that, and he laughs some more. 

Ron lifts his glass in a toast, “To Fred. And all the mischief his legacy will accomplish.”

George’s family raises their glasses, fond smiles and teary laughs accompanying the echoed words. He feels the cold ache in his chest deflate a bit. The grief lingers, as it always will, but there’s a warmth cocooning it now. He might not get to create memories as a “we” anymore, but he would cherish every “I” moment over the coming decades to share and laugh over when they would finally be reunited. 

“I love you, Forge,” he whispers as he raises his glass, and the warm presence pulses in acknowledgment. 

Life goes on with a little more pranks and mischief after that. 

[queenofonions]

A Time to Heal

Summary: Fred and George visit Shell Cottage when they learn Luna has been injured. platonic love fic

The sound of tinkling windchimes alerted Fleur to an arrival at the apparition point outside the wards of Shell Cottage. She passed her wand over her bubbling cauldron for a quick stasis spell and crossed quickly to the window at the side of the house to see who it was. She smiled with relief to see Fred and George sprinting swiftly over the sand and met them at the door before they even had a chance to knock.

Once inside, Fred handed over the package of herbs she had requested. Fleur thanked him with a kiss to both cheeks and quickly returned to her cauldron to lift the stasis spell. Sorting through the herbs, she located the mugwort, measured out the correct amount and added it to the potion. When it began to fizz she lowered the heat and covered the cauldron with a heavy lid; a swirl of her wand set an alarm charm over it to alert her when it was finished brewing.

The twins were silent as they watched her work and when she began setting up several more cauldrons for more potions, they seized the moment to interrupt and cleared their throats at the same time.

It was George that spoke up. "How is she?"

Fleur looked at them and the naked worry on their faces made her heart clench. She went to them and took a hand from them both in hers and squeezed.

"She is recovering well." She smiled gently at how they sagged against each other in instant relief. "I have treated her injuries; not many and not serious," she quickly assured them to forestall the questions she could see them ready to fling at her.

"I am sure she would enjoy a visit from you both. You go in and I'll bring in some tea in a few minutes." She squeezed their hands again, but as they turned away she remembered Luna's current condition and stopped them. "Oh and do not be alarmed by her appearance. The Bruise Balm I have just put together will help them fade once it is ready."

The twins looked at her for a long moment and Fleur was struck by the ferocity gleaming in their eyes. Bill had told her about how deeply his brothers cared for the girl. How they looked on her as not only another sister, but a kindred spirit.

Fred reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small round tin with the Wheezes logo emblazoned on the lid. "We have that covered. Our Bruise Removal Paste is ten times better than a Balm. We'll sort her out and leave it with you."

With that they turned toward Luna's room and Fleur let them go to their friend. She ran a hand through her hair and huffed a quiet laugh, then returned to her kitchen to make tea.

Luna sat up against the headboard of the bed, leafing through an old French wizarding magazine Fleur had lent her when she heard a jaunty knock on her door. Her large blue eyes lit with amusement when she recognized the cadence of "Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts" and called out for the twins to enter.

George entered first, judging by the bandage around his head, but she would have known it was him in any case; she never had any trouble telling the brothers apart. Fred followed, tossing a small tin from hand to hand. She wondered idly if he wished he had three so he could juggle them.

Fred and George were very accomplished jugglers and she'd often found them practicing on the grounds of Hogwarts, tossing various objects between them, often to a large crowd of wide-eyed first years. They'd always start with three and call out for someone to toss them something new until they dropped one. The highest count had been nine before they famously departed the school.

"Good morning," she smiled and lay the magazine on her lap, open to an article about the Lavender Fields of Provence. The colors in the pictures had long faded and the flowers no longer moved as they once did, but there was still a faint scent of lavender that drifted up from the pages that she found very soothing.

The twins greeted her in turn, their voices somber as they took in the wicked purple bruise that spread across her left cheek. Luna could see their eyes zero in on the dark red center at her cheekbone. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Your brother was able to lift the curse and Fleur makes a lovely pain potion that tastes of blackberries. She should share the recipe with Madame Pomfrey; she uses licorice in hers and I'd rather endure a great deal of pain than any amount of licorice."

Luna tilted her head and considered her statement. "Unless I was dying, I suppose. I could endure a bit of licorice in order to stay alive."

The twins nodded in agreement, as they also loathed that particular flavor, then repeated in tandem the one word that had caught both their attention.

"Curse???"

Luna nodded. "Bellatrix Lestrange was wearing a cursed ring when she hit me and it wouldn't stop bleeding until Bill found a way to remove it."

George smiled in genuine admiration. "He's a clever one, our Bill."

Fred held up the tin of paste and waggled it in his fingers. "Clever, yes, but it takes true genius to create such wonders as in our new line of Wheezes Medicinals, the first of which will heal that right up."

Luna took the tin and twisted it open to reveal a creamy yellow paste that smelled of marigolds. She quickly closed the magazine on her lap and set it aside, not wanting to mix the scents. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the warm, citrusy scent permeate her sinuses.

She opened her eyes and found a hand mirror held in front of her face by George, so she dipped two fingers into the paste and applied it to her cheek. The paste sank into her skin and the change was almost immediate. As the bruise healed it shrank in size, changing colors from purple and red to green and blue, then yellow and finally to the smooth healthy pink of freshly healed skin.

Fred frowned at a bit of redness that persisted where the center of the wound had been but supposed that was to be expected from a cursed wound.

Luna patted the spaces on either side of her and invited them to look at the magazine with her. George put the mirror back on the bureau where he had found it, along with the tin of paste and he and Fred happily joined her.

Fleur levitated the tea tray to Luna's room, but paused outside the door when muffled conversation turned suddenly to bright laughter and hearty chuckles. The door was slightly ajar, so she carefully peeked around it and smiled at what she saw.

Fred and George pointed at the pictures in the old magazine, and as none of them could read French, provided their own brand of witty commentary on what the articles were about. They finished each other's sentences, as they often did, and so fluidly that Fleur could only marvel at the synchrony of their minds.

But the true marvel was the beaming, giggling girl between them. The paste they had brought had done wonders to heal her face, yes, but it was themselves and the loving friendship they shared between them that had performed the true healing that day.

AO3 (pen name Xedra on AO3)