#i wish ron weasley was treated better

[nox140497]

Hey, I really love stories where Y/N is already together with George and they are at the Burrow with the other Weasleys x

Christmas

Prompt: No

Request: Yes

Prompt Number: None

Summary: Y/N spends the Christmas holidays with her boyfriend and his family at the burrow.

Author's Note: There you go. I don't know if this is what you wanted, but I hope you like it.

Masterlist

Prompt List

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George Weasley had always been a part of a big and loving family. He was the fourth child out of seven siblings - three older brothers, a twin brother, and two younger siblings. Being a pureblood wizard, he was raised in a household bursting with magic, love, and chaos.

But this Christmas, their family dynamics had shifted. George's girlfriend, Y/N, was spending the holidays with them at the Burrow. Y/N had recently been disowned by her parents for being a witch, and it broke George's heart to see her go through that.

As the two of them cuddled on the couch in front of the fireplace, Y/N couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the love and warmth that radiated from the Weasley family. They had welcomed her with open arms, treating her as one of their own.

"I love your family, George," Y/N said, nuzzling her head against his chest.

George wrapped his arms around her tighter, smiling down at her. "They love you too, Y/N. You fit right in."

Y/N sighed contently, realizing that the Weasleys were the family she had always wanted. Growing up, she was always shunned by her own parents for being a slightly odd, after all they didn'tknowthat she was a witch back then, and to finally be accepted and loved by a family was an indescribable feeling.

"I used to envy you, you know?" Y/N said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

George raised an eyebrow, curious about what Y/N meant. "What do you mean?"

"Having such a big and loving family. I always wished I had one like yours," Y/N explained, playing with the hem of George's shirt.

George's heart ached at the sadness in Y/N's voice. He couldn't imagine growing up without the love and support of his siblings and parents. "Well, you have one now. We may not be blood-related, but you're a part of our crazy Weasley clan now."

Y/N smiled, feeling loved and accepted by George and his family. She couldn't have asked for a better Christmas gift than this.

As they continued to cuddle and talk, Y/N couldn't help but admire each and every one of the Weasley siblings. Bill, the oldest and most responsible; Charlie, the adventurous and rebellious second child; Percy, the ambitious and studious third child; George, her loving and mischievous boyfriend; Fred her boyfriends equally mischievous twin; Ron, the youngest boy who always looked up to his older brothers, dispite denying it valiently everytime it was brought up; and Ginny, the feisty and independent youngest child and only girl.

Y/N realized that each sibling had their own unique personality, but they all shared one thing in common - a deep love for each other.

"I love you, George," Y/N said, looking up into his warm brown eyes.

George smiled down at her, cupping her cheek with his hand. "I love you too, Y/N. And I promise, no matter what, you'll always be a part of our family."

And in that moment, Y/N knew that she had found a home with George and his family, and she couldn't be happier. As the fire crackled and the love between them grew stronger, Y/N knew that no matter what obstacles they faced, they would always have each other and the love of the Weasley family to get them through.

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Harry Potter characters that I like

In response to a Romione fan who thought I hated every HP character and hated everything about the series because I don't stan certain characters and ships, I want to mention here the few characters I like.

For me, I like a character usually if:

they have an interesting personality and background

I feel sorry for how they are generally misunderstood or bashed by fandom (sometimes I take great pleasure in being a contrarian haha) or treated by the author.

their wins feel earned in the narrative and I feel inspired

So here is my list!

Draco Malfoy + Malfoy family

I love Draco so much. I admit that I was drawn in mostly through fanon but as I explored the books more, I really enjoyed his book character a lot. He has a vibrant and entertaining personality and I like how meta he can be sometimes. Every time he proclaims how bad Hagrid is as a teacher or how Hogwarts sucks as a school, I just want to hug him so badly. I also like his parents and their interactions as a family later in the books. Narcissa is my fav mom, no contest. I just think that JKR wasted his potential. Draco is the most developed Slytherin kid and his character should have represented hope for a better future. But of course, JKR only cares about her lions (and Snape who she tried to retcon as a lion too lol) so screw Slytherins. And the NPC houses.

Black family

Gosh, I absolutely ADORE the Black family. The Black family is the most intriguing set of characters JKR ever wrote in HP. The Black family lore, the constellation theme, the dark history, the tragedy. Chef's kiss! Screw making a marauders' prequel!!! Give me a Black Family series! You shouldn't be surprised that Sirius Black is my favourite marauder. Compared to Sirius, James Potter is an utter bore.

Neville Longbottom

I often wish Neville was the chosen one instead of Harry. I think Neville's story is more tragic than Harry's. It must be torture to have your parents alive but practically dead. And Neville just feels more heroic to me. A lot of times, I hate Harry's hero's journey because JKR keeps letting Harry win due to deu ex Machina. It was nice seeing Neville gradually grow into the man he was at the end. And Neville's rage at Bellatrix just felt more visceral compared to Harry's with Moldy Voldy. I just like Neville, he's so sweet and he deserves better friends.

Percy Weasley

On the surface, I don't care much about Percy but I do feel sorry for him. Ron and the twins treated him like trash. His family just had a hate boner for him. Poor Percy. I can vibe with a family black sheep character. I don't like how people paint him as the bad guy for walking out on his family. And I appreciate how distinguished he is as a Weasley. He is the only Weasley member not to bow down and kiss Dumbles' backside like a brainless puppet. It's a shame it backfired on him but I admire his logic.

Luna Lovegood

To be honest, Luna was a nothing character to me until I began reading Druna fanfiction and I realized how adorable her character is in the books. She makes me smile and I like how she used to talk back to the trio in the beginning. So funny when Luna told Harry that people thought Hagrid was a bad teacher lol! I think Luna is the only HP girl I like...also maybe because I really like picturing her with Draco. No shame!

Severus Snape

What a beautiful and tragic character. Like Draco, Snape is such a pleasure to read. The man is pure entertainment in written form. I don't love Snape the way I do Draco, but I like picturing him with a better life. 'Snape drops out of Hogwarts' is one of my favourite AO3 tags. I love how he dedicated his life to good even though life was cruel to him and gave him a bad hand. Everything about Snape is so intriguing and I like learning more about him. Definitely one of JKR's best characters.

Ron Weasley

I hate the golden trio but I find Ron the most tolerable and the most interesting. It's a shame I found myself disliking the guy in the epilogue. People complain about the movies ruining Ron but JKR was ruining Ron in the books too. Ron started out as so intelligent but gradually JKR made him slobbier and dumber. I like how Ron was the common sense guy. Once again, Ron had to be the one to tell Harry what a complete trash disaster Hagrid was. Lord, I hate that man! Shame Hagrid's spiders didn't kill him!!! I wish JKR expanded on Ron's chess ability. Ron showed promise as being a leader of the trio (Lord knows Harry was a disaster) and Ron being strategic would fit with his chess skills...but JKR never followed through. My fellow HP critic, chicory, mentioned this passage:

‘Hmm,’ said a small voice in his ear. ‘Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting … So where shall I put you?’

applies more to Ron than Harry and I have to agree with her.

There are also several instances of Ron just being a sweet friend to Harry and Hermione and I wish he had better friends. I don't care what Romione/Hermione fans say. Hermione does not deserve a guy like Ron. Never did and never will. I don't even think Harry deserves Ron either. Ron does so much more for Harry than Harry ever did for him. I would have preferred if the Luna friendship was developed more for Ron. Ron has his infuriating moments but his great moments offset them. Out of the trio, I think Ron is the best character and sometimes I wish he was the protag instead of Harry.

Well, let me end it at 7, the perfect number! I can't fully word why I like or love some of these characters but this is a gist.

Of course, there may be other characters that I enjoy for what they are in the story (the Death Eaters, Dumbledore etc) but I don't care about them enough to mention them. Blessings!

[thereisnolumos]

I think Fred and George are like my favorite of the Weasleys that we see the most of. Percy isn't so bad either. I get why Percy does what he does. I feel bad for Harry, but I get Percy. I love Fred and George cause they so funny, and plus I feel like they have a secret soft spot for Harry. Like they treat him like a little brother but more gently cause they're aware of the trauma and abuse he's going through. When Fred died I cried. It was so horrible in the books.

Fred and George are the best. They’re caring with a random clearly neglected boy they just met on the train, and yet they’re vengeful when they believe it’s justified and sometimes downright scary. They’re complex and flawed and fucking awesome. The only thing I have a problem with regarding them is that JKR didn’t bother to write them as separate characters with their own personality traits. And I HATED the way Molly treated them, constantly diminishing and berating their dreams and interests. But I hate how she treats all of her children really

I actually like all Weasley brothers, except Ron. It’s such a good example of supporting characters being written better than the main one. Each brother is unique, and complex. I love the subtle rebellions against their parents (especially Molly) of Bill and Charlie as soon as they got to “fly out of the nest”. I actually relate to it a lot, wanting to be your own person and getting freed from your family’s control, but not wanting to remove them from your life. In my situation we found the common ground much better than they managed to, but anyway.

I looove Percy and I wish his character had been explored more. I do understand his position completely, after witnessing Dumbledore’s incompetence at least three years in a row (and we have no idea what was going on in Hogwarts before Harry went there) I too would’ve been flabbergasted with the blind faith my parents gave in him. Him hating on Harry was horrible, I would imagine him sticking more to “Harry is being manipulated by Dumbledore” rhetoric, than outright hating on a CHILD, but well, JKR needed a conflict and I can understand him going too far and extreme with going against Dumbledore and everything and everyone connected to him. Also, Percy was THE ONLY ONE, out of four brothers currently in Hogwarts, to notice that something is wrong with Ginny in CoS. He loves his siblings a lot, especially the little ones. His letter to Ron was his way of carrying for him and trying to protect him from what he at that moment believed to be a great danger (and I really can’t blame him for distrusting Albus-children are the best soldiers-Dumbledore)

Fred’s death was one of the most hurtful to me, I cried a lot. Out of all the Weasleys she HAD to kill him off??? Ronald was RIGHT THERE! The hero’s bestie and all that. If she wanted the unfairness of war and all that, Percy’s death would be much more dramatic. He just reunited with his family after years of separation only to be ripped right away. He could’ve die protecting one of his siblings… that would’ve made more sense. Fred’s death was just… bad and pointless. He didn’t even die from a spell in a duel or smth. The fucking wall fell in him.

[hchollym]

What if Percy had a squib child?

Ooh, this is an interesting question! 🥰

First, let's talk about Squibs in general.

Squibs are treated terribly by most of the Wizarding World, including families who are opened-minded about Muggle-borns. Consider this conversation in Book 1:

“Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er — Yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mom’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

It is heavily implied that this cousin is a Squib, and even the Weasleys (who are known for being rather liberal with Muggle-borns) don't talk about him. Most Squibs that we know about were certainly never regarded highly (like Argus Filch & Arabella Figg). They were often disowned by their families, and they weren't allowed to attend Hogwarts (which we know from Angus Buchanan). Even if they received jobs in the Wizarding World, they were not high-paying careers, and the Squib was still looked down upon.

So if Percy's kid is a squib? Well, I think he handles it better than most of his siblings (and parents) would, but it's still rough overall.

It likely results in him cutting off most of his family (again) because even if they say they're okay with it, they treat that child differently (or ignore them entirely), which Percy is not going to let happen. This could eventually cause some resentment from his other children, who feel like they've lost out on a relationship with the Weasleys because of that one kid.

Some of Percy's siblings may be supportive, but only to a certain extent (i.e. George would give the kid a basic job in his shop when he/she gets older, Harry and Hermione pity the kid so they are at least nice, etc.). It's a lot of indirect discrimination though, and Percy knows it, and he can't stand it.

He probably blames himself, thinking it's karma for his mistakes, and even though he loves this child, he can't help but initially feel disappointed and embarrassed. He gets over it quickly though (and feels guilty about those thoughts), but he's heartbroken, because he knows this kid won't have the opportunities or support that their siblings do, but he's willing to bend over backwards to help.

He likely immerses himself into muggle culture, learning as much as possible and spending time there on a regular basis (going to the park, cinema, etc.). I'm willing to bet that he works his arse off to afford sending this kid to a high-end private boarding school for muggles, so he/she has a similar academic experience to their siblings (as opposed to living at home year round) and because he researched enough to know that children who go to boarding school are more likely to be successful adults.

Percy probably works even harder to save for college (which he thinks is an awesome opportunity anyway), and he pays for expensive hobbies like horseback riding and private polo lessons. Basically, he just does everything possible to give the Squib a good life in the muggle world.

I think he would certainly mean well, but he would go a little (a lot) overboard (because it's Percy). The kid appreciates it, but sometimes, he/she just wants to have fun going to Quidditch games without Percy being paranoid that someone is going to be mean and hurt their feelings.

Essentially, this Squib is cut off from most of the Weasleys and the Wizarding World, Percy goes into overprotective (borderline suffocating) mode, and the kid knows how much Percy loves him/her, but they really wish that he would back off and relax some and just let them live their lives.

That's just my guess though, but this was a fun scenario to think of, so thanks for the ask! 😊

[rae-pottah]

Don't Trust a Malfoy (pt. 3)

Fandom: Take a guess (Harry Potter)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Reader

Y/n = your name

(Y/O/N) = your owl's name

M/n = your middle name

Warnings: they/them pronouns, trauma, bad parenting, (your probably used to both if you're reading this) ( that was a joke don't take offense), events are taken out of order from the story, shitty writing. Some People Live(Lemme know if I missed anything)

------------------------------------------

*Y/n's POV*

It had been a few months sense we arrived back at Hogwarts after Mr. Weasley's incident. It was nearly Christmas, otherwise known as the time to go home and enjoy time with family, and give to others.

"What 'you doing for Christmas, Y/n?" Ron had to open his mouth

"Uh probably gonna ask to stay in the castle again this year, they're havin' a Christmas party this year though, so I don't know exactly know how well that's goin' to blow over" I answered sadly

"I wish you could come with us this year" Ginny pipes up, I smile at her fondly

"Me too, Gin, me too"

"I still have to write that permission letter to my parents" I say, exhausted

"Why don't you just stay anyway?" Ron asks

"Oh- hey Y/n don't we have to study for that one test?" Fred asked hurriedly

"oh yeah-" I slowly let out as he packs up my stuff from the table, we walk quickly out of the room, when we get to the library I pull out a piece of parchment and my quill and in perfect cursive

Dear Mother and Father,

I request permission to stay at Hogwarts

this Christmas. I shall await your answer.

Thank you,

Y/n Malfoy

As I sent (Y/O/N) off to the manor, Fred and George start talking, planning pranks and such.

--

In the morning I got a letter back, I crumpled the letter as tight as I could and I set it on the table

"Incendio" I whispered and the paper turned to ash

"What's that about now?" George asked

"A not so nice no." I said as I could see tears blurring my vision

" 'm sorry love" Fred whispered

"It's okay, I'll be okay" I wiped my tears and smiled at him as he grabbed my hand under the table

"If you need anythi-" he starts but I cut him off

"I know, I know" I laugh out.

----------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later and we were all home, and as difficult as it was at least they wouldn't treat me like absolute trash in front of people no better nor worse then them

"You will behave" My father says

"Of course, sir" I reply as I bow my head

"Mn, I'll believe it when I see it" he replies

--

As the party goes on I see my mother, father, and a family I've only seen a few times before approach me

"Ah yes and this is my child, Y/n." My father introduces me to the family

"This is Taylor, little miracle, Taylor you better get antiquated with Y/n here"

"After all you are to be wed." Their father says

"Excuse me?" I ask with wide eyes, my father with gritted teeth lets out a hiss of

"You are to be wed" his stare could scare my brother and mother but not me

"I will not marry a person I do not know!" I hiss out back at him, quietly for just the six of us to hear

"You must and you will." he slightly raises his voice, the others just standing by, the family with disgusted looks on their faces, my mother's worried

"I WILL NOT MARRY A PERSON I DO NOT KNOW!" I yelled in front of everyone, all now facing us, I ran to my room closing and locking the door. I start pacing the floor, everything happening flooding my mind

--

About an hour later

"Y/N M/N MALFOY GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT" I heard my father's voice ring up the stairs, I cautiously stepped down each stair, the path seeming to get longer... quieter. I finally walked infront of them, as they were facing away from the stairs, and met his eye, he was fuming, my mother was pale, scared. My brother was nowhere to be found, assuming in his bed

"You disrespected me... You disobeyed me." he raised his voice but spoke slowly

"Yes. I did. I refuse to marry when I am not in love." my voice matching his voice

"You foolish child" he hissed out "love doesn't exist" he started laughing

"so its true then" I let out, he straightens his face, confused "You may never love anything or anyone" I hear a creak on the stairs, "though you must love The Dark Lord, you seem to be sucking his dick pretty well" uh-oh my father jumps toward me holding my chin in place with his wand to the other side of my face

"How dare y- how dare you associate me with such a sin, such a disgusting behavior, a-" I see Draco standing on the stairs head against the handrail, tears starting down his face.

"IT IS NOT A SIN! NOT DISGUSTING! IT IS LOVE! SOMETHING YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND. NEVER FEEL." I yelled in his face as I see Draco perk up his head with a small smile

"HOW DARE YOU TALK BACK TO ME, OVER AND OVER! I'M DONE WITH YOU" he lets go of my chin and steps back giving me a millisecond to run, just as I turn my back I hear it

"CRUCIO" a scream rips out of my mouth, I can feel the tears running down my face, it feels like every muscle in my body is being ripped out, like my brain is being smashed to pieces, for a second he looses focus and I have to get up, I move to the stairs only to realize Draco was no longer there, I turned, he was dueling my father with my mother's wand, I now knew I had to act quickly, my mother ran after me as ran up the stairs, I ran faster, I was confused when she ran into Draco's room, I ran into my room, started packing clothes and my wand and opened my owl's cage out the window

"fly to Fred" I ran with my trunk into the hallway to go to Draco's room, the one mistake I would never make, I would never leave him here. I seen my mother in the hallway with his suitcase and large purse filled with something.

"here is his trunk, his wand is in it and clothes, his tooth brush and tooth paste, and I packed extra for you just in case." she rushes out with tears in her eyes and hands me his trunk, I look at her in amazement, but also slightly worried. "oh and this is full of galleons from your father's private stash" she hands me the purse

"But Mom, what if he finds out you helped us, you'll be hurt" I rush out concerned

" um hear this will pinch" I already felt pain unimaginable and was ready to pass out what could hurt more? with drawing a line on my face down my cheek bone a cut appeared

"now go!" she rushed me, we ran back downstairs, she had to act like she was chasing me, I ran and grabbed my beaten up brother who was still fighting by his arm and we ran with our trunks to the fire place, I felt it again, I didn't even hear it this time, too focused on protecting my brother

"CRUCIO" Another scream, louder, still feeling the pain from the last one, I dropped to my knees. I could barely make out my brother grabbing my trunk and purse from my hands, and dragging me the both of us now sharing the pain, the blow lightening a little. With my arm over his shoulder we both limped toward the fire place I grabbed a hand full of floo powder

"Fuck you." I yelled, then whispered the burrow clearly and smashed the floo powder on the ground of the fire place. Green flames enveloped us and with the blink of an eye we were in the burrow and while I wanted to pass out right there there was one more trip to go before I could

"why is it empty, where are the weasley's?" Draco asked worried we were at the wrong place because I was unwell

"they're currently staying at a safe house... with Sirius to keep him company, I just didn't want dad to find Sirius" I let out slowly trying to breathe, blood is still running down my face, I grabbed more floo powder

"12 Grimmauld Place" I try to say clearly, luckly we end up in the right place "Drag me to the kitchen" Draco throws my arm over his shoulders and pulls me to the kitchen door as I point the way as we go closer I start to hear their laughter I push open the door and suddenly everyone is on alert, then they see me

"I didn't know where else to go"

--------

Part 4

[unadulterated-syd]

You Stupid Bitch

Ginny Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings; Cussing ofc, but nothing else

Synopsis: Y/n is hurt, watching Ginny go through lovers. However, every dam breaks eventually.

you let the wrong people love you

You watched anxiously as Ginny and Harry got closer, as the twins ranted about Ron's obsession in keeping them from dating.

Not that Harry had ever done anything wrong, you'd simply known you were a better match for Ginny than he was. You had always been her number 1.

But you don't see that do you?

You'd grown so close to Ginny you'd come to learn how caring and brave she was. You also knew Ginny didn't know when to stop, and she didn't know how to lose.

Regardless of how much they love one another, they weren't right for one another. Harry was prepared for a war, and Ginny would join that war for him.

And that war could be the death of them both, or worse, the death of one and guilt of another. They were wrong for each other, because it could never work right.

When you cry and need my comfort

I drop everything and come over

Harry wasn't one to ignore feelings, he was empathetic and compassionate. He cared deeply for those around him, but Ginny was like a stone. It took ages to break apart the walls around her heart, and the chains on her mind.

So, when things went bad, Dumbledores Army being found out, Harry's crush on Cho, everything, she found herself at your doorstep.

Don’t bite your lip, or grit your teeth

Just count to ten and try to breathe.

You stupid bitch, can't you see

The perfect one for you is me?

You watched once again, as they fell for each other harder. You watched every time he took her breath away, everytime his eyes lit up as she spoke. Everything you wish you shared with her.

You took deep breaths, you held you tongue, they didn't deserve your malaise, because they hadn't done anything wrong. They were young and in love, and even Romeo and Juliet were destined to stay away.

Though even they shared the outcome you feared the most.

You don’t know what you deserve

And that’s why you end up hurt.

You'd watched as Dean cheated on her, you held her at night whilst she cried about him standing her up. You were the friend she deserved when she failed to see for herself what she deserved.

You sat in the bleachers at every practice, you'd cheer her one no matter win or loss. You took her for butter-beer when the team refused to invite a girl, and you joined everytime they took her after she proved herself worthy.

But you never listen

Take my advice as criticism

Then make the worst decisions.

You had sat with her one night as she sobbed, the twins having noticed her sadness as of late and mentioned it. The last night you bit your tongue.

"Ginny.. love. You can't keep letting him treat you like this, everyone around you sees your suffering.. you deserve so much better."

But alas, she had taken it to heart. She was strong, she forced herself to put up a barrier between herself and the world so roughly that any outside help made her feel weak.

She'd ran off, and the next day every whisper and murmer that fell upon your ears was that precious Ginny Weasley had given herself to Dean Thomas in the room of requirements.

Don’t bite your lip, or grit your teeth

Just count to ten and try to breathe.

You stupid bitch, can’t you see

The perfect one for you is me?

And when Ginny came to you to inform you that Harry and her had broken up, you realized you had to take your shot.

You couldn't let yourself hurt her if she began to love again. And you knew you could only bite back you bark for so long.

"Ginny.. uhm.. perhaps we can talk. You don't have to uh.. give me an answer anytime soon, but I owe this too you. Because friends don't keep secrets, and this is important."

Ginny looked at you intently, setting a hand on yours, "Go on.." You could tell she was building her walls back up, the ones she'd always taken down for you. She was scared. And it was your doing.

"I know I always say I love you, but I might've lied a little.. I'm in love with you Ginny, I have been since I saw you with Dean and realized how envious I was of him... I've just been so scared of how that'd change us."

"You stupid bitch, Y/n." She groaned, pulling her hand off of yours as her walls dissolved. She was her, but was she mad?

All your questions were answered when she grabbed your face and kissed you, god she was a gorgeous kisser. Her lips were cold, and she smelt of grass and butter-beer.

When she pulled away from you, she kept her hands on your cheeks as she pressed your forehead to hers, "You're so bloody smart Y/n, but sometimes you're just so daft. I've loved you since you told me how much I stood out, since you noticed me before Harry."

She sighed, breathing in your scent just as well, "Darling I've loved you since the day I realized I could never replace you, not with Dean, nor Harry, nor a million women. I love you."

"I love you too."

[potters-little-ferret]

a character (or characters) you like but everyone else hates, and a character (or characters) you hate but everyone else likes

Bored. Ask me for my most controversial Harry Potter opinions. I’ll be brutally honest with zero fucks given.

—

Characters I like but everyone else hates:

Severus Snape: I know he has his fair share of supporters but you have to tread carefully, lest you be set upon Snaters who will tear you apart for saying anything remotely positive about him.

Lucius Malfoy: I think he’s an interesting character who I wish was fleshed out more. Most of the fandom has dumbed him down to an abusive dad in order to make Draco look better, but I’ll always be a proud member of the “Lucius adored his son” club.

Characters I hate dislike but everyone else likes:

Sirius Black: He bullied people purely for his own amusement and had zero regrets for putting Severus through hell even as an adult. He even defended he and James’s actions and try to claim Snape only hated them because he was jealous. Really gross behaviour that everyone seems to overlook or defend.

Molly Weasley: She was horrible to Hermione, deliberately giving her a tiny Easter Egg while giving Ron and Harry giant ones, which upset Hermione greatly - all because she believed a journalist who was notorious for lying, a woman she earlier in the book criticised for making shit up about Arthur.

She also treated Fleur like shit because she “didn’t deserve her son” and made all these assumptions about her without bothering to get to know her first. Fleur had to prove herself in order to be “worthy” of her respect.

Oh yeah, and she recounts a time to Ginny and Hermione when she brewed a love potion at school and they all laugh about it as if it’s hilarious. Keep in mind that love potions are the wizard equivalent of a roofie.

[momione-sama]

I surely have met many😒

[ronweasleysslut]

Pushing you closer

Pairing: Enemy!Ron Weasley X F!Reader

Description: Enemy!Ron takes teasing Y/n too far. When he comes to confront her about her weirder than normal distance she confesses something neither one thought she would ever

Warnings: Swearing, childish insults, mentions of death eaters (let me know if i missed something)

Word count: 1.7k

࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊°

You sat in potions waiting for professor Snape’s monotone droning to cease. You made little doodles on the corner of your parchment as you waited to be dismissed. When Snape saw you weren’t paying attention he called on you to answer the question he just asked the class.

“The correct temperature would be sixty-five degrees Celsius or roughly one hundred forty-nine degrees Fahrenheit.” A smug smile fell across your face as Snape’s face fell from the reverse embarrassment.

A few moments passed and you got a note handed to you. You opened it to find a messy scrawl of letters.“You know you might be more likable if it weren’t for the noise that comes from your face.”

You didn’t even have to guess who the note came from. Ron Weasley. You turned and looked across the room at him and his obnoxious snickering. You rolled your eyes and crumpled the note up. Finally, after what felt like years you were finally dismissed from class. As you headed for your common room you saw him getting closer to you.

“I’m not in the mood Weasley.”

“Aw well, I am. I’m always in the mood to pick on you.”

“You really should get a hobby. Your playground insults are hardly effective.”

“Playground insults? Be careful what you wish for. They can get much worse.”

“What are you going to do? Call me a whore? You’ll have to do better than that.” He got flustered for a second as he looked for a new insult. “Don't you have something better to do? Shoving your face maybe? Or sucking Potter’s dick?”

“You know what y/l/n that was a good one. I’ll let you go, I’m sure you have some death eaters you have to help anyway.” Of all the insults he could have gone with he picked the one he knew would hurt you the most. Your parents had made that decision sure but the insinuation you were like them hurt more than any of the other times he had insulted you. This one was personal.

He had a smug smile on his face as he started walking in the opposite direction you were previously headed. You walked quickly away from him. You hated each other but for some reason, the fact he thought about you that way made you sad. You thought you were angry but you were far from angry, just hurt.

The next morning you avoided the Gryffindor table entirely. As you all flooded into your classes you didn’t give Ron a second glance. You sat in a different seat as far from him as possible. There was a line and he crossed it, enemies or not he knew what he said.

Days passed and it was just the same as before. He tried to pull the same things as before, sending you notes, trying to come up to you in the halls, you avoided it all. Anytime you got the notes you didn’t even bother opening them you just crumpled them and threw them away.

It didn’t make sense even to you as to why you were so upset. You thought so deeply about why you cared so much. That’s when it hit you. Somewhere in time the cat and mouse game the two of you played turned more fun but in a different way. You thought about how when he approached you, you got a funny feeling in your stomach. You realized you started trying harder when it came to your clothing and your hair. You showed off more in class.

The only explanation you had was that you liked him. Though there was an obvious hatred between you there was a bond that you took more seriously than he did. At least you thought so.

You weren’t aware of how Ron was beating himself up about the way he treated you. He felt terrible, especially because you threw away all the notes with his apology scrawled on them.

The next morning on your way to the Library you saw him headed towards you like a man on a mission.

“Y/l/n. Y/l/n! Y/n stop! Please.”

“What Weasley?”

“Why haven’t you been opening my notes?”

“Why do you think? You took it too far and I’m sorry but continuing to bicker between us isn’t going to work for me.”

“Why does it all of a sudden matter to you what I say?”

“I-It doesn’t.” You knew exactly why it did but you knew if you told him he would just make fun of you for it anyway.

“You’re lying to me. You always chew on the inside of your lip when you lie. Tell me why you care.”

“I just told you I don’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me-” You tried to brush past him towards the library before your tears started.

“No. I’m not letting you go till you tell me the truth.”

“I already said I don't care.” You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“And I told you I’m not buying it so-”

“I like you okay! That’s why I care. You took the one thing that I can’t escape from and you used it to hurt me. That’s why I won’t open your notes and why I avoid you everywhere.” A tear fell down your face and you wiped it away quickly.

“Y/n I-”

“Save it. It doesn’t matter.” You pushed past him and into the library heading for the back tables so you could work in peace. You spent the rest of the day there skipping meals and trying to take your mind off the morning conversation.

The next night you sat in your room going through and finding the perfect outfit to wear to the Hufflepuff party you had been invited to hours before. When you showed up the part was in full swing. The room smelt like weed and firewhiskey.

The room was full of drunk teenagers celebrating the most recent Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw game. A few of your friends began waving you over to a spot on the floor. As you walked closer to them you could see a bunch of different people sitting with them as they continued their game of truth or dare.

You sat down not on the floor but in the chair behind them. Immediately wished you didn’t step foot in this party. Ron was sitting a few people away from you and all you could feel was his eyes as they lingered on you for longer than they should’ve.

“Since you are the newest one to join, y/n truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to take a shot. Since you are the soberest amongst us.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the less than a quarter full firewhiskey bottle as it was handed to you. You brought the bottle close to your face and tried not to breathe in the toxic scent into your nose. You brought the bottle to your lips and downed the remainder of the bottle and made a face at the bitter-tasting liquid.

“Easy. Who’s next?” As the game progressed everyone was picking dare until we got around to Ron.

“Ron, Truth or Dare?” Pansy asked from her spot on the couch.

“I- uh Truth.” Groans about the safety in picking truth were heard as the group began deciding the question they would ask the redhead.

“Okay fine. Who do you fancy?” A ridiculous smile was plastered on her face for such a juvenile question.

“Who do I fancy? That’s a ridiculous question might as well give me a dare.” The Gryffindor griped.

“Okay Weasley,” the brunette had a bit of venom in her tone as she responded. “I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. And this one you can’t chicken out of.” Ron’s face and ears began to get red as his embarrassment grew. After a few moments of him sitting still petrified of the response, he may get.

“Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!” Everyone who was playing started chanting at first; except for you. Then as more attention was drawn there was most of the room chanting for him to kiss the girl he thought was prettiest.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll do it.” He stood from his spot and walked across the circle towards you. You were sure he was walking over to Lavendar who was sitting next to you. As he got closer he stopped directly in front of you.

That’s when the O’s started. Everyone started staring and not paying attention to any of the other party activities that surrounded them. Then Ron leaned down and his face was only inches from yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Y-you I-I me?” You were beyond shocked at his proposition. Not that you were as repulsed as you thought you’d be say a month ago but you didn’t know if this was another cruel joke he planned on you.

“Yes, you. Can I kiss you?” At this point the draw you felt to the buff redhead dominated any ill-feeling in your stomach. You nodded your head and with your permission, his lips pushed against yours. His strong calloused hands reached to your face as you deepened the kiss. When he pulled away you could see your smeared lipgloss all over his slightly swollen lips. “Y/n can we talk outside?”

You were pulled out of your daze at Ron’s question. “Yeah. Sure that’s fine.” Both of you left the common room and walked outside. His scent was strong and intoxicating as the two of you walked to a dark quiet corridor to avoid Filtch. That was all you could focus on till he began speaking.

“Y/n I want you to know your confession does matter to me. I may not have known it before but once you said it I wanted to hear you say it over and over. I want to apologize for the comments I’ve made. All of them. Especially any that have involved the topic of death eaters. I also want you to know since that last comment all of the notes you’ve received from me have been apologies.”

“Ron I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have made a single one of the comments I’ve made. I’m also sorry for throwing all of your notes away.”

You stared up at his blue eye letting them fill your mind. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes Ron, you can kiss me.” His eager lips met yours once again.

After a moment he pulled away, “I dont think I could ever get sick of that feeling.”

Taglist: @anti-zippy-snoot @sourpatchpills @fanfictioniseverything @wh0reforthemarauders @sunshinexweasley @squishytomatoes @hvgwartss

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

Helpless

Day 17 and we're returning to the Burrow for a HBP missing moment from @somesunlitdays, read it on AO3 here

Title: Helpless Author: somesunlitdays Pairing: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Warnings: None Prompt: Paper chains and other homemade decorations

The luggage in the overhead rack wobbled precariously as the Hogwarts Express pulled into King’s Cross station and came to a staggering halt. Both Pigwidgeon and Hedwig hooted, flustered, the latter fixing Harry with a reproachful look. 

“It’s not my fault,” he grumbled, placing her cage on his seat. People were already swarming the corridors, dragging with them their trunks and cages and woolen scarves. “You’re becoming too demanding, I’ve noticed. Calm down a bit.”

Hedwig ruffled her feathers indignantly.

Once he and Ron had pulled on their cloaks and cleared away the remains of their lunch – which had consisted largely of cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties – Harry peered out of the compartment door in an attempt to gauge whether they could get off the train with ease. 

It was no good; the corridor beyond was packed.

Moving to slide the door shut, fully intent upon waiting for the crowd to thin before leaving, Harry spared the passing students a cursory glance. 

He cursed inwardly.

A group of tiny students wrapped in blue scarves were staring at him, open-mouthed and paused mid-step. Harry would have laughed at the sight they made had their attention not been focused on him. Moreover, three fifth-year girls were loitering near their compartment, giggling and throwing curious looks in his direction.

“Merry Christmas!” came Ron’s voice without warning. Alarmed, Harry turned around to find Ron looking over his shoulder and addressing the three girls. Grinning, he nudged Harry and added, “Go on, Harry – don’t just stand there. Say something.”

The girls, looking expectantly at him now, giggled again.

“Oh, er…”

“Merry Christmas, Harry Potter,” one of them blurted, sounding slightly breathless.

“Right, thanks. You too.”

Feeling his face burning, Harry slid the compartment door shut with a loud snap.

“‘You too’?” Ron repeated. He sounded deeply amused.

“Shut up,” Harry snapped, pulling out a box of owl treats to lob some into Hedwig and Pigwidgeon’s cages, both of whom were showing distinct signs of creating a racket. 

“Really well said, mate. Wait till I tell the other boys of your fantastic responses. They’ll be queuing up to get tips from you.”

Harry ignored him. 

“So, you still don’t think Malfoy’s a Death Eater?” he asked for the third time that day, mainly to stop Ron from snickering at him. “I’m going to speak to your dad about it during the holidays. Or Lupin, maybe, if we get to see him.”

“Be my guest,” yawned Ron, “but I’m telling you, Harry, they’re not likely to agree.”

“I’ll make them see sense,” he replied stubbornly. “You wait.”

Ron cocked his head. “I reckon I’ve never seen you this focused on anything,” he observed. “If only you put half as much effort into coming up with decent replies when someone wishes you – oi!”

The empty box of owl treats had hit Ron squarely on the forehead. 

Ever since he’d overheard the conversation between Snape and Malfoy the previous evening, Harry had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts – convinced as he was of Malfoy being up to something, and determinedly planning how to best broach the subject with Mr. Weasley – that it completely escaped him what he was headed towards as he got off the train. Not until Mrs. Weasley and Bill had greeted him and Ron at the platform did it hit him: Ginny. 

“Where is that girl?” inquired Mrs. Weasley. She checked her wristwatch before scanning the crowd around them. “What’s keeping her?”

“There she is,” said Bill, pointing into the crowd. “And that’s what’s causing the delay – Ron, who’s the bloke?”

Harry’s stomach plummeted. 

“Dean,” answered Ron. “The git.”

The git, Harry noticed when he looked around against his better judgment, was holding Ginny’s hand as she talked to Demelza Robins. Hot blood flooded his brain, momentarily blocking out the hustle and bustle of the platform around them.

The sight of Ginny and Dean standing side by side, holding hands, made his insides churn painfully.

“Dean?” repeated Bill. He turned to his mother, “Do you know anything about this?”

“Yes, I do,” replied Mrs. Weasley. “Ginny mentioned him over the summer. He’s in Ron’s year, isn’t he?”

Ron grunted while Harry stared at his trainers, feeling awkward. 

“He’s in my dormitory,” Ron added, still scowling.

Harry wondered what was so amusing, for the corners of Bill’s mouth were twitching.

“How come I didn’t hear about this sooner?”

“Well, you might have if you paid more attention to the goings-on in your own home,” answered Mrs. Weasley, sounding austere and glaring at her eldest son. “Not even knowing who your only sister is going out with, or what she’s interested in – imagine that. But, of course, you’ve been so very distracted lately, what with proposing and making grand plans for your wedding…”

“Er, yes, plans – that reminds me: I’ve invited Remus for Christmas,” said Bill, hastily changing the subject. “He said he’ll try and be there.”

Ron shot Harry a sideways glance, and they both turned away to stifle their grins. Clearly, Mrs. Weasley had still not warmed up to the idea of her eldest son marrying Fleur Delacour. And then, it happened. Harry caught a whiff of the flowery scent he’d come to associate with Ginny. What he’d smelled in Amortentia. 

That’s just what the Burrow smells like, he reminded himself sternly as Ginny moved around him to hug her mother. It’s your favorite place after Hogwarts, and that’s why you smelled it in Amortentia. It’s got nothing to do with Ginny.

“Let’s get going then,” said Mrs. Weasley, bringing Harry out from his reverie. 

“Oh, hang on,” said Bill, grinning down at his sister, “Shouldn’t we go say hello to this Dean first?”

At that moment, Harry was certain that in his eyes, Bill Weasley’s standing would never recover from this day forth. Hedwig seemed to echo his thoughts too, for she hooted loudly, and disapprovingly, at Bill’s suggestion. 

“Why don’t you just concentrate on selecting napkin holders for your wedding, hmm?” Ginny replied easily, reaching through the bars of Hedwig’s cage to stroke her feathers with exceedingly gentle fingers. Hedwig gave a soft hoot, then settled back into her cage, her large, amber eyes drooping shut.

Harry felt irrationally resentful towards his owl throughout the journey back to the Burrow.

 * * * 

The first day of the Christmas holidays was a blur of gorging on Mrs. Weasley’s excellent cooking and decorating the Burrow with Ron and Ginny, both of whom had unanimously deemed the elegant but sparse decorations Fleur had already put up as “underwhelming” and “not Christmassy enough”. With garlands of holly, white and golden baubles, and delicate snowflake ornaments that glowed after sunset, the Burrow did indeed look as if it was prepped to be photographed for a Christmas edition of House Beautiful. 

In a last-minute attempt to make things more festive, Ginny had taken it upon herself to make paper chains. 

Despite his initial grumblings about that year’s decorations, Ron refused flat out. “No, no way. Just ask Dad to hang some tinsel around the banister, yeah? No, I’m not spending my holidays sitting around cutting bits of parchment, I’m not doing it.”

“Fine, Harry and I can do the cutting, and you can glue them together,” said Ginny cheerfully, hoisting an old cardboard box she’d fetched from the attic more securely on her hip. She gazed expectantly at Harry, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Fleur, all of whom were huddled around the kitchen table and sipping from large mugs of tea, breakfast having only just finished.

Harry forced his mind away from how the words ‘Harry and I’ sounded even sweeter when Ginny said it, and tried, in vain, to focus his attention on the box she was now balancing on the table instead. It was filled with rolls of colored parchment, ribbons, jars of pressed flowers, and packets of color-changing glitter. 

Harry and I.

Stop it, he chided himself, repeating the now-familiar mantra in his head. She’s Ron’s sister . You can’t think about her. You’re living with her family, control yourself. You don’t like her like that. You can’t. She’s – she’s off-limits . She’s…  a sight to behold when she’s talking about Christmas, so enthusiastic, like when she’s playing Quidditch and scores five goals in a row. Or knocks Ron off his broom for fun. She always gets that flushed look –

Harry tore his eyes away from Ginny and proceeded to take a huge gulp of tea. It scalded the back of his throat and made his eyes water. 

Ron, he realized belatedly, was still arguing against putting up more decorations. “Nah, Mum, tell her I’m not doing this. I’m tired. Fred and George can do it when they come around tonight.”

“It’s alright, Ginny, why don’t you just wait until–” began Mrs. Weasley, but her next words were drowned out by Fleur’s. 

“Eet iz too tacky, Ginny, all zese paper chains,” she commented, “Back in France, our decorations are simply magnifique, so très él��gant. Lots of crystals and silks. And we sometimes ‘ave sculptures made of ice, too – ‘zey never melt, of course. We also put bunches of–”

“Ron, go and help Ginny. I want the whole house decorated and ready by tonight. Heaven knows we’ve put it off long enough,” Mrs. Wealsey called over Fleur’s ramblings. Her nostrils flared as she got up from the table, throwing Bill an angry look he purposefully did not catch. “Now!” she added, seeing Ron open his mouth and sensing an argument.

Ginny breathed thank you! and rushed out of the kitchen. Ron struggled to his feet, too, scowling, and Harry followed suit.

“Oh, Harry, dear, you don’t have to,” Mrs. Weasley said in a more gentle tone, patting his shoulder on her way to the scullery. “You stay and enjoy your tea.”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, perhaps a little too forcefully for Mrs. Weasley stopped and stared at him. He cleared his throat, wildly thinking of an excuse. “I - I’ve never made them before. My aunt and uncle aren’t too big on homemade decorations so…”

He knew mentioning his aunt and uncle was a bit below the belt, and he did feel a twinge of remorse at the look on Mrs. Weasley’s face, but all such thoughts fled his mind when she said, “Well, I’ll leave you in charge – make sure Ginny doesn’t get out of hand. Last time she made enough paper chains to cover the entire village with them.”

Ron and Ginny were squabbling over parchment and scissors when Harry approached them in the living room.

“No, no, the gold goes nicely with the green,” Ginny was saying. “And we’ll add in a red loop after every other green. Give the gold one here.”

“But it’s so - so sparkly. What are you, five?” Ron complained. “Please let’s just – why, in the name of Merlin’s saggiest greying ballsack, are you pulling out more glitter?”

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Aren’t you a charming bloke, I can really see why Lav Lav likes you.”

“Hey, now, that’s not fair,” Harry piped up before Ron could reply. Ron’s eyes snapped to his in gratitude, while Ginny peered at him, bemused. “You can’t blame poor Lavender – there’s no accounting for taste, after all.”

Ginny’s ensuing laughter fell like music upon his ears, and warmth, sugary, treacle-thick warmth, spread through his insides. 

“Some best friend you are,” Ron muttered, his ear turning red. He stood up abruptly. “Anyone want scones? Think I’ll go get some.”

“You’ve only just finished breakfast,” Ginny pointed out. Then, she fixed her brother with a sharp look. “Bring me two.”

“With that attitude? No. Harry, mate?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Don’t forget to bring me some too!” Ginny called after Ron’s retreating back. He held up a finger, making Ginny throw a cushion at him. 

“Prat,” she murmured. “I don’t think much of your taste in friends either, Harry.”

“I’ll tell Hermione you said that.”

Ginny stuck out her tongue. “Lucky for me, she’s got more brains than all my brothers put together – she’ll see through your fibs.” 

Harry shrugged, casting his eyes downwards, his mind inexplicably lingering upon the curve of her lips. He settled himself on the floor beside Ginny, careful to maintain a decent amount of space between them, yet still close enough to notice the way her freckles stood out in the light from the flickering flames in the hearth.

“You’re really helping?” she asked, sounding strangely amazed as he leaned forward to choose a pair of pink scissors. 

“Thought you could use an expert hand,” Harry shrugged, grabbing a scroll of golden parchment as well.

Ginny raised her brows. “So, why’ve you come?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I was always top in Art class at Muggle primary.” 

“What, from the bottom?” 

Harry snorted, folding the parchment lengthwise into half, before folding it across. “You’re just intimidated by my prowess at making paper chains.”

“Steady on, captain. I wouldn’t get so complacent just yet, if I were you,” Ginny said composedly, folding a piece of red parchment herself. “You don’t know what these hands are capable of.”

“I’m quite looking forward to finding out,” replied Harry absentmindedly, half his attention focused on cutting the parchment into four even strips, the other half determinedly trying not to think of her hands lest his traitorous mind wander too far. It was quickly proving to be a difficult task, however. How much time had he spent lately admiring those same hands on the Quidditch pitch, awed by the precision with which they wielded Quaffles? Or else lay in bed, late into the creeping darkness, wondering what those nimble fingers would feel like threading through his hair, entwined with his own?

By the time he registered what he had said, felt his heart leap out of his chest, and looked around at Ginny, panic-stricken, a half-formed apology on his lips, she had already started talking about how she and the twins were masters of making homemade decorations. He thought her face was rather blazing as she spoke, eyes trained on her parchment a little too fixedly, but perhaps it was just a trick of the light. Or it was the heat from the fireplace; they were sitting parallel to it, after all. 

Just then, the floorboards creaked, and Ron came striding into the living room, a plate of fresh scones in his hands. Harry had rarely been this happy to see Ron.

“Where’s mine?” Ginny looked at Ron expectantly. “And hurry up, we don’t have all day!”

For the better part of two hours, they worked with parchment and glue and glitter, folding and cutting and sticking. Celestina Warbeck crooned in the background, her melodic voice occasionally marred by the sounds of Mrs. Weasley and Fleur squabbling over menus and the best way to brine turkey. The fire continued crackling merrily, with Ron whistling what curiously sounded like a rendition of ‘Weasley is Our King’ as he worked to cover the plainer parchment in glitter. Ginny hummed along to the wireless instead, her voice low and sweet.

Almost against his will, Harry recalled last Christmas, of spending the holidays in Grimmauld Place, replacing cobwebs with tinsel and listening to Sirius duet carols with Ginny, Fred, and George, their lyrics turning ever more absurd as the day wore on. The bone-deep ache of Sirius’ absence welled up inside him, quickly reaching a new crescendo as he imagined what Christmas this year might have been like had his Godfather been alive. Had he, Harry, not gone to the Department of Mysteries. His throat felt constricted, painful. 

No. It wouldn’t do to think along those lines, not anymore. Besides, only guilt and misery greeted him whenever his thoughts dared stray down that path, and he was sure his late Godfather would have wanted anything but.

“Paper chains are not tacky.” 

Ginny’s voice pierced through his reverie. Harry looked up to find her watching him, the tiniest of frowns creasing her forehead despite the grin on her face. He gave her a reassuring smile in return and was glad to see her expression clearing. 

“They’re really not,” Ginny insisted happily, throwing a green and golden, 10-feet-long paper chain into a large wicker basket. “Look at them, Harry!”

At least he got to witness first hand how much Ginny enjoyed Christmas, he thought to himself, and none too wryly. 

“No, they’re homely,” Harry found himself saying, his voice catching. Clearing his throat loudly, he tossed a few more paper chains into the basket. “And they’re fun to make.”

Ginny clutched at her chest dramatically. “A man of good sense,” she gasped, while Harry chuckled, feeling the heat rise up his neck. “What a rare creature you are.”

“Not as rare as you,” he said without thinking, then froze. The silver scissors in Ginny’s hands hovered mid-air; she had paused, too. He met her eyes with some difficulty and found himself unable to breathe. The fire reflecting in Ginny’s brown eyes seemed to draw him in, and he thought he might have happily lost himself in them had her face not become so ominously blank. 

Harry cleared his throat. “I - I mean, who else can really appreciate paper chains?”

“You’ve taken too many Bludgers to the head, mate,” remarked Ron.

Harry started. He had momentarily forgotten that Ron was with them in the room as well. 

“This is a complete waste of time,” Ron continued, his head bent over red-colored parchment, brows furrowed in concentration, clearly having noticed nothing strange. 

“Is not!” Ginny protested.

“It is,” Ron repeated, glancing over at his sister and eyeing the paper chain in her lap with distaste. “Really? You’re not even linking them correctly. Look, the loops are all unevenly sized. I told you – I told you – to fold the parchment before cutting it, but no. You never listen.”

“Stop nagging me. Anyways, I meant them to look a bit more homely, not like I bought them from some swanky store like Twilfitt and Tattings,” said Ginny defiantly.

“Rubbish!” 

“You’re really invested in this for someone who didn’t want to help,” noted Harry. His heart was still drumming painfully against his chest, and he avoided looking at Ginny, fearful of what might escape his lips if he did.

“Yeah, well, I’m a perfectionist, aren’t I?” replied Ron, unabashed.

“Oh yes, perfectionist,” Ginny rolled her eyes. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she added, “So, how long does it take you to become perfect at something?”

“What?” Ron asked, looking earnestly befuddled, though Harry could have told him with full confidence that now was the best moment to change the topic.

“How long does it take you to become perfect at something?” Ginny repeated, still speaking in that hushed voice, just loud enough for Ron and Harry to hear. “Because it’s been weeks since you started snogging Lavender, and, judging by the live demonstrations we’ve all been forced to witness, I’m quickly giving up hope of seeing any improvements in your techniques. Can’t even imagine what your poor girlfriend’s going through.”

Harry let out a shout of laughter at the sight of Ron spluttering, looking frankly affronted yet speechless. Ginny caught Harry’s eye and winked at him, causing his insides to turn to jelly.

The two Weasley’s soon began bickering with one another, and Harry took their fleeting distraction to collect himself – again. He knew he was treading some fine line here, teetering on the edge of - of something, where Ginny was concerned. And he would sooner never step foot inside Hogwarts again than reveal that his heart fluttered and swooped at the mere mention of Ginny these days, let alone admit the things that happened to him every time she so much as looked in his direction. She was Ron’s sister, and it would be base treachery for him to linger upon thoughts of her, to imagine them strolling across sunlight dappled grounds, or perhaps cloistered together in tiny broom cupboards… 

“Oi, Harry!” 

“Huh?” Dragging himself away from alcoves that smelled of the flowery soap which intoxicated him at every turn nowadays, Harry glanced around him. “What?”

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” Ron grumbled, standing up. “We might be able to finish putting these up before supper if we start now.”

“He’s so angry with me now,” Ginny informed Harry as they followed Ron, their arms full of paper chains, “absolutely livid.”

“I take it you aren’t complaining?”

“Absolutely not,” Ginny shook her head seriously. “I’m beginning to finally enjoy the holidays.”

Under Ginny’s supervision, the three of them began stringing up the paper chains they’d spent the morning on. They looped the colorful creations across the fireplace and pinned them from the ceiling, swearing each time the pestilential things fell to the floor despite their best efforts. And all the while, the glitter from the parchment shed copiously into their hair as they maneuvered around the house.

Harry was determined to keep a respectable distance between himself and Ginny whilst they hung up the decorations, but that sort of thing was much harder when working in such close proximity to each other. Still, Harry commended himself on avoiding saying anything even mildly flirtatious when around Ginny. At least until they found themselves in the kitchen, wrapping a few remaining paper chains around the chairs. That was when Ginny’s soft laugh ruined his new resolve to not look at her for longer than a heartbeat.

“Harry?” she said, leaning against the kitchen table and eyeing him with an amused expression on her face. 

“Yes?”

Ginny’s hand hovered in mid-air before she reached over and brushed it across his hair. A shiver went down his spine, time ceasing as they caught each other’s eye. Then, to Harry’s utter disappointment, she withdrew her hand and brushed them on her jeans, adding, “You’ve got green glitter in your hair.”

“Does it bring out the color of my eyes?” He blurted before he could stop himself. Warmth crept rapidly up his face under Ginny’s scrutiny. Never before had he wished so desperately for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

Ginny, however, was staring at him with a wicked glint in her eyes, and he watched, mesmerized – and a little afraid – as the corners of her mouth curled into an uncharacteristic sneer.

“Two mentions of your name in the newspaper this summer, Potter, and your vanity has exploded like a box of faulty filibuster fireworks,” Ginny said in a magnificent imitation of Snape, even managing to emphasize his name in the spiteful manner Snape said it. Dimly, through his haze of embarrassment, Harry noted how Ginny made even Snape sound agreeable.

Horrified, yet shaking with silent mirth, Harry made to move around Ginny, but she evidently had other ideas. Stretching an arm out to halt him, Ginny sniffed before continuing, “Or perhaps being named The Chosen One has given you the false impression that your social skills are enough to make up for your poor creativity. I need hardly point out that you are sorely mistaken.”

Harry���s laughter echoed around the Burrow’s kitchen, bright and unrestrained. 

“Such a vainglorious person, I’ve never met,” Ginny went on, still speaking in the low, waspish tone Snape favored. “Even sarcasm can make no dent in your pompous personality, Potter .”

“Stop,” Harry wheezed, struggling to maintain a straight face. “Ginny, you’re disturbingly good at this.”

“Thanks,” she said, suddenly blithe, fixing him with a look, “you too!”

It took Harry a second to register what she’d said, then he sighed, “That bastard.”

“Hush, don’t let my mum hear you slinging around such false accusations about her Ronnie.” Ginny pushed her hair out of her face and walked over to the sink, oblivious to Harry’s spluttering. She glanced over her shoulder as she lathered some soap between her hands. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Harry.”

She turned away from him, and he allowed himself to stare after her for just a moment longer. An inexplicable feeling, like the flutterings of a new snitch’s delicate wings in the wintery morning air, was taking root inside him. It filled him with a quiet tranquility he knew, even in his awe-struck state, was not his to cherish. 

Shaking his head in a poor attempt to rid himself of the image of Ginny’s beaming smile, Harry returned to the living room where he helped Ron clear the discarded bits of parchment. He would go play Quidditch with Ron next, or go put away the stack of freshly laundered clothes sitting at the foot of his bed. Putting up Christmas decorations had quickly lost its novelty anyway. 

Yes, he told himself, that sounds like a better idea. He’d get away from Ginny, and then he’d come to his senses.

“Chuck this in the fire, yeah?” said Ron, passing him a pile of torn parchment. 

“Right, okay,” replied Harry automatically, his mind determinedly thinking of anything but the fact that Ginny had just walked back into the room, her hair pulled into a knot at the base of her neck. She’d never worn her hair like this around him before, and he felt sure he’d become deranged if he looked at her for a second longer. And so, he applied himself to the task at hand with much more deliberate attention than was strictly necessary.

A quarter of an hour later, he stood back with Ron and Ginny to admire their handiwork. Well, in truth it was Ginny who admired it, whilst Harry, who kept stealing glances at Ginny in spite of his better judgment, felt slightly dizzy from the explosion of color and glitter pressing upon his eyes. Ron simply thanked his stars that they had finished with the onerous task at long last. 

“Now that that’s done,” said Ginny, clapping her hands together, her cheeks flushed with pure joy, “we can go add some more baubles to the Christmas tree! And fairy lights! We might also have some tinsel from last year…”

Ron’s groan did nothing to deter Harry from thinking that he’d happily work with Christmas decorations all day, if it meant he got to bask in Ginny’s presence for just a while longer. That afternoon, somewhere between teasing words and stringing paper chains, Ginny Weasley had managed to weave her way deeper into his heart, and all he could do was watch her do it, helpless to resist.

[mirclealignr]

cookies for a date | r.w

ron weasley x reader

requested by anon where the reader makes too many christmas cookies and shares them with Ron!

warnings; mentions and consumption of food, dialogue heavy, no pronouns used, fluff!

word count; 1000+

to be notified when I post, follow @mirclesjournal

“Wow, they smell nice, Y/N!” Harry beamed, entering the common room after Quidditch practice.

You’d spent the better part of three hours baking Christmas cookies in the kitchens, rolling out the dough, cutting out shapes and decorating them in icing. It was a pleasant weekend activity you used to relieve the stress of the week and forget about everything you wished would leave you alone. And they often did once you got started, though, one person seemed awfully reluctant to let go of his hold on your mind. Ron Weasley always had a claim on one thought or another, not that you minded most of the time. And, his presence in your thoughts brought a rather good idea along with them, one that would be the cause for your extra hours in the kitchen.

“Thanks! Reckon I made a bit too many, though,” you laughed half heartedly; it was disheartening to think your hard work might go to work to waste, even if it was only a hobby. But you weren’t giving up on your plan before it had begun.

“Never mind that, Ron will help you eat them,” Harry smiled, sniggering as you became flustered just from the mention of the redhead.

“What’s that?” Ron asked, trailing behind Harry and finally arriving in the common room.

He looked tired; Quidditch practice was often quite draining on the two of them, especially Ron who’d only made the team that year. He seemed to be in good spirits, however, and smiled warmly upon meeting your eyes. And although strands of hair were stuck to his forehead, and his shirt was darkened with sweat, he still seemed the picture of a gentleman when he smiled at you.

“Y/N made too many cookies, I was just saying you’d help her eat them,” Harry explained, raising his eyebrows knowingly and turning toward the stairs.

“Wait! Take a cookie, won’t you?” you asked, and Harry smiled sweetly, accepting your offer before heading upstairs.

Ron dropped down on the sofa beside you sighing deeply and letting the aches and pains from practice melt away on the cushions and by the warmth of the fire. He nursed his knee for a moment before leaning back and closing his eyes with a breath of contentment. It almost seemed too cruel to interrupt him, he did look awfully tired, so you waited until he opened them again to speak. And finally, after a few moments of the fire crackling and the two of you breathing softly, he looked over to you, albeit a little expectantly, and smiled softly, glancing down at the plate of cookies on your lap.

“So, made too many, did you?” he asked, nodding his head to the plate.

“Maybe a few,” you laughed, “Want some?” you asked, offering the plate up to him and watching his eyes light up as the cookies moved closer.

“Well,” he started, shuffling closer, “If you’re offering, couldn’t turn down that hard work!”

“Exactly! It would be terribly insulting,” you teased.

Ron examined his options, looking between each cookie (the deciding factor probably lying within the colour of the icing that adorned the Christmas shape) and finally settled on a red bauble, looking rather pleased with his decision, and bit into it eagerly. In an attempt to hide your anxious anticipation of the verdict for your cookie’s taste, you too selected a cookie from the platter and took a bite. Ron had nearly devoured the whole thing before he showered you with an array of compliments, prompting a flush of heat to your cheeks.

“No, I’m serious! You ought to open your own bakery on Diagon Alley. You could work next to Fred and George!” beamed Ron, taking another treat from the plate.

“I’m glad you like them, but I’m not sure anyone’s looking for sweet things after they’ve been to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” you joked, thinking of all the sugary items they sold in their own shop.

“Maybe you’re right,” replied Ron in between mouthfuls, “But it doesn’t matter where you open it, I’ll bet there’d be queues for miles just to buy a cookie from your shop,” he said earnestly, perhaps unaware of the weight his words carried with you.

“Thanks Ronald, that means an awful lot,” you grinned, “Especially coming from you, you know?” you eyed him nervously, wondering if he’d catch on to your meaning embedded in your careful words.

“Really? Bloody hell, do you mean it?” he asked, almost like a child hearing ‘yes’ to something for which they were sure to hear a resounding ‘no’.

“Of course I mean it!” you cried, “You don’t think an experienced baker like myself makes too many cookies by accident, do you? I know my measurements, Ron.”

“Reckon you do,” he smirked, “Would you like to maybe, now you don’t have to, mind. But would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me some time? They’ve got right good cakes there, and it might be nice not to have to bake what you’re eating for once,” Ron suggested.

He looked rather nervous, awkward even, but it was quite perfect through your eyes. It couldn’t have happened any better–asked out on a date over the freshly baked cookies you’d made for him. You couldn’t have planned it any better yourself, though you might have helped the cause of events a little, only a small nudge as it were. Ron had done the rest flawlessly, and it had rained upon you a type of happiness you had not known existed until then.

“I’d love to,” you agreed, smiling wider than you ever had done before.

“Brilliant,” he sighed a breath of relief, “Can’t wait!” he added, pecking your cheek before jumping up from the sofa and collecting his Quidditch kit to take upstairs.

“Thanks for the cookies!” he shouted on the way up, leaving you smiling to yourself and wondering what your date might be like with Ron Weasley, the boy you’d been crushing on for months.

[ameliora-j]

twin flame iii // gw x reader

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, breakup, mention of bruising, crying, angelina slander kinda (it’s just for the story i love her sm!), yn is sorta a pick me if you squint sry, cringey mediocre writing at very best

an: i used song lyrics for some of the argument and the ending :) i hope you like it besties!

part one | part two | part four

you george! i want you!

the words had been running through his mind since the night you left. he had been going over the days leading up to your explosion in his mind for weeks. your words were in his mind day and night. your pained expression, your anger, your hurt. you consumed him. more than you usually did.

george weasley knew he fucked up. he knew without anyone telling him. but they did anyway. every waking second they did. first it was fred, calling him a jerk. then ron, who called him a “bloody idiot.” then ginny, who told him it was his own fault. and then his mum. of course his mum, who said in exact words: “george fabian weasley, this is nobody’s fault but your own. quit moping around and do something to fix it! i didn’t raise you to treat women this way!”

his last straw, however, was his older brother percy. percy of all people. who looked at him with a disappointed shake of his head. receiving a disappointed head shake from percy was nothing out of the ordinary, especially for george. it was his words that stung. percy spoke ten simple words to him that truly set george off. percy spoke “you lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” at his sentence, george lost it.

“i know that percy! you don’t think i fucking know that i lost the best thing that ever happened to me! and fred i know i’m a jerk and ron i know i’m an idiot and ginny i know it’s my fault and mum i’m sorry okay! i know you didn’t raise me like this i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i don’t think she’s coming back!” he fell back onto the couch as he tugged frustratedly at his roots.

“george… do you love her?” molly asked him.

“yes mum,” a whimper escaped the fiery-haired boy’s throat. “i love her more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. she’s my world,” he revealed.

“then go, george. go get her,” his dad said. “for your sake and her’s,” he told him.

“and our’s!” fred called distantly from the kitchen.

“shove off fred!” george called back before apparating to your front door. he knocked three times and waited for someone to answer it. when you opened the door, he was shocked at your state.

makeup streaked down your cheeks with your shoulder bruised and your arm in a splint. your eyes were red and puffy, but they were furthermore accompanied by dark bags as if you hadn’t slept in weeks. the truth is; you hadn’t. “hi george,” you mumbled half heartedly.

“hi butterfl-“ you cut him off.

“yn. my name is yn,” you spoke sternly.

“i’ve called you butterfly since you were three…” he murmured.

“not anymore. hurts too bad to hear it. did you need something?” you quickly changed the subject.

“i want to talk to you,” he said. you nodded and walked in, telling him to follow you. george said hello to your brother and then followed you into the lounge where you two sat on the loveseat and you turned to face him.

you sat in a long silence as your eyes traced each other’s features. you memorized him. every line, every freckle, every bump, bruise, and blemish. the silence was deafening. untill he finally broke it. “what happened to your arm?” he murmured softly.

“it splinched when i apparated home. then i apparated again and made it worse,” you bit your lip softly.

“always so reckless,” he tutted softly, causing you to shrug.

“what’d you wanna talk about? know you didn’t come to talk about my arm…” you attempted to get to the point of his visit.

“right,” he murmured softly. “yn i…” he took a deep breath. “the day that i let you walk out of my life is the day that i made the worst mistake in the history of mistakes. i’ve done some stupid things in my life, but letting you walk away has by far been the stupidest. i’m so so sorry that i hurt you the way i did, i cannot express to you how sorry i am, i truly cannot. i love you, yn. with all of me i do, you have to believe me when i say that.”

“i do believe you george. i just don’t believe that you love me the way that i love you. and carrying around that pain is killing me. i mean absolutely destroying me. you live in my mind rent free. you’ve infested it,” you told him. “you with your stupid pretty smile and your god awful jokes and your ridiculous pranks that you somehow always rope me into and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes and just. you. george. stupid you. oblivious you. godric george,” you roughly shoved his chest. “i’ve loved you for years and you’ve always looked past me!” tears rimmed your bottom lash line and your voice cracked as you lashed out on him.

“for years george, i mean years! i’ve watched you fall in love with countless girls just to have your heart broken by them. i stuck by you through everything. even when you stopped being being my friend because it made angelina uncomfortable i waited for you george! and you just pushed me to the side. i did everything for you. i executed pranks for you. i planned pranks for you. i took the fall for you. i got detention for you! i did it all for you. i mean the countless amount of things i did just to be able to call you mine and i just… you didn’t care! you’ve never cared! you’ll never love me the way that i love you and that hurts. so. fucking. bad.” you wiped your eyes.

“it kills me george. it eats at me, every single day it does. i stood by your side and i took the blame with you even when i had nothing to do with the stupid shit you pulled at hogwarts because yeah i was going down, but hey, at least i was doing it with you, right? we made so much trouble and-and we used to laugh. and be happy. we were genuinely happy and i don’t know where we went wrong but we did, but i still say that i hate you with a smile on my face! i don’t get it george why don’t you love me!” a whimper tore itself from the depths of your chest as you let out a silent sob.

“now look what we’ve became…” he murmured, tears falling from your eyes.

“all the things i did just to call you mine… and… and all the things you said but… somehow, i still hope i was your favorite crime. cause merlin knows you were mine.” you sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“you were mine. you’ll always be my favorite crime.” he leaned over and kissed your head as another silent sob racked your body. “now it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we did,” he smiled over at you sadly. “i love you butterfly. just as much as you love me, if not more,” he whispered as he stood from his place.

you rolled your eyes water-logged eyes, but still managed to smile. “i wish you thought about that before,” you whispered.

“i do too… i guess i’ll have to just call you the one that got away then?” he asked.

“in another life georgie… i’d be your girl. and we’d keep every promise that we made,” you told him.

“and i wouldn’t have to say you were the one that got away,” you nodded as he kissed your head again. “i love you, butterfly. i always have.”

“i love you too, georgie. i always will,” you sniffled as you watched him walk out the door. you didn’t want this. you wanted to stop him. everything in your body screamed at you to stop him. but your brain wouldn’t work. your heart said no. you were scared of being hurt again.

you wanted to do something. yell at him. tell him to come back. to hug you. to never leave you. to never let you go. but your heart wouldn’t let you. you were frozen in time.

~~

it’ll all get better in time.

you’d heard the saying time and time again. especially after your parents passed away. it was people’s favorite line to use when they saw you. the truth is… you didn’t stop hurting. the pain didn’t go away. you just got used to it. but the pain you were feeling now… you didn’t know if it would ever go away. at least it didn’t feel like it.

two months. it had been two months since george walked out of your house that night. it was nobody’s fault but your own, and somehow you couldn’t help wishing he would’ve stayed.

you saw him everywhere. in the stars in the night sky. in the sunrise and the sunset. in coffee shops and store windows. even in your dreams when you slept. so logically, you decided to stop. if you didn’t sleep you couldn’t dream. and if you didn’t dream, you couldn’t see him.

you dutifully ignored the pain in your chest like an annoying bug on a picnic. you pretended that you were fine, but the reality was; you weren’t. but you played it off. and you were able to keep up your facade. untill one day… that one fateful day tucked in the corner at ninety three diagon alley. your brother asked you to pick up ten second pimple vanisher because he had a date tonight and just received a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose, causing him to look like “the muggle myth rudolph the red-nosed reindeer” as he put it.

you walked into the shop and kept your head down as you searched the aisles. it wasn’t where it usually was. you knew this shop like the back of your hand, of course you had… you’d worked there for nearly three years. you furrowed your brows as you looked around. the shop had completely transformed. nothing was in the place it usually was. that’s when your eyes landed there. on her. right at the front, behind the till at the register you worked, in the uniform you wore was angelina johnson.

you sighed deeply as you extended your neck around the corner to where the office was. you smiled triumphantly as you saw fred sitting at his desk and began your trek. you gently knocked twice on the opened door and fred called, “come in,” distractedly.

you walked in and sat on the desk, right in front of him, forcing him to look up at you. “yn!” fred exclaimed.

“hi freddie!” you smiled as a giggle escaped your lips and you returned the death-grip hug he had enveloped you in.

“what brings you by? not that i don’t love seeing your pretty face, of course,” he shot you a playfully flirtatious wink.

“ybn needs ten second pimple vanisher because he has a date tonight and he woke up with a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose,” fred laughed loudly at your remark. “i tried to look for it, but the stores completely turned around,” you pouted slightly.

“oh yeah, we changed some things up because we needed room for our new products. they’re still in the making, but george disappeared,” he hummed.

“george what?” you asked.

“you didn’t know…?” he asked you.

“no. i… i had no idea,” you stuttered.

“yeah. after the night he went to talk to you, he left a note on our kitchen counter and all his things were packed and he just… left. we haven’t seen or heard from him since. ‘s just been angie and i running the shop now. couldn’t do it alone,” fred explained as he picked up the box. “here you are l-“ before he could finish, you were halfway out the door. “YN WAIT!” he called. “YOU FORGOT YOUR PRODUCT!”

“SORRY FRED! YBN WILL BE OKAY I HAVE TO GO!” you called as you ran out the door as fast as your feet would carry you. if you knew george weasley… and you did… there was only one place he could be. and you prayed to any and every god that would listen that he was there. you prayed like your life depended on it that he was okay. you needed to fix this. to fix him. to make it alright.

in this moment you knew that he needed you. he needed you like peanut butter needs jelly. the way left needs right. like the sun needs the moon. he needed you like you needed him. you ran and ran and ran for miles untill you got to a secluded area. then you took a breath. and you apparated.

it was exactly the way you left it. a dingy old wooden box house sitting at the highest branch of a sycamore tree. you groaned softly as you began to climb the many branches. “george i swear to godric you better be in here,” you grumbled to yourself as you climbed.

it felt like hours—truly it was ten grueling minutes at most—untill you got to the door of the house. you whispered the password and it creaked open. “georgie,” you breathed when you saw him.

there he was. laying on the floor of the treehouse wrapped in blankets and a sleeping bag with a small pillow under his head. the apple to your pie. the straw to your berry. the smoke to your high. the one you knew you’d marry.

the one that got away. your twin flame.

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[imagine-hogwarts]

The Ball

Pairing: FredxHermione (fluff)

Summary: Although Ron couldn't quite bring himself to ask Hermione to dance during the Yule Ball, there is someone else who just might.

4.102 words

_____

„Do you want to dance?“, she heard a voice and saw a hand appear in her bleary field of vision that was otherwise almost filled with the light blue fabric of her evening robes. Their colour seemed too chipper, too bright for her mood and the night she had been having. Hermione sniffled and looked up at the owner of the hand through swollen, tear-filled eyes.

It was Fred. Fred in dark red robes that violently clashed with his hair. Robes that looked like Molly Weasley had sent them along with Ron’s, but like Fred had done a much better job at sprucing them up. She sniffed again and shook her head at him, lowering her gaze to his hand, then back to her knees.

She was well aware that she was sitting right in the centre of the stairs in the entrance hall and that anyone walking by was probably seeing her and forming their own fully uninformed opinion on the matter. But it beat going back inside the Great Hall to rejoin the celebrations that had seemed like such a fun idea only half an hour prior. Hermione had enjoyed her night up until that point. She had enjoyed the interest she had received from Victor and the happy atmosphere. Even the dancing, despite her own disability to move her feet or body to the beat of the music. At the time she hadn’t even cared that, like flying, dancing seemed to be a thing you couldn’t learn from reading about it in a book. All had been fine, great even. Until Ron had shown up next to her. Until he had started chipping at her, accusing her of ‚fraternizing with the enemy‘. Of betraying Harry’s trust.

Hermione knew where it was coming from. And from the look on Padma’s sullen face back at the table, so did she. But it didn’t matter. It still didn’t matter because he had no right. No right to be mad at her, or jealous of Krum. And yes, she had been disappointed that he hadn’t asked her. Maybe even a little mad. But by the way he had treated her back at the ball, she regretted ever having wasted any thought on him in the first place. She didn’t care, if he was jealous. He had made his choice.

„Are you sure?“, Fred asked once again, his hand not moving an inch in front of her eyes and for a second Hermione wandered, how long she had been in thought. Then, with all the force of a disappointed fifteen year old, she grabbed on to Fred’s hand and pulled herself up. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, though out of the corner of her eye, she believed to see a crooked smile hit his lips, that once again reassured her of the twin she had in front of her. George’s smile went the other way, she thought, bending down to pick up her purse from where it had been lying on the stairs next to her. When George grinned, the left corner of his mouth rose higher than the right. For Fred it was the opposite.

„I have to warn you, though. This is my first ball. So naturally“, Fred began as he led, possibly dragged Hermione into the Great Hall, „no man has ever danced the way I do.“

She nodded, feeling like she would have snorted, maybe even laughed any other day of the year. But right now, she realized that she hadn’t thought past her ‚Damn Ron!‘ and, very uncharacteristically, not considered the consequences of her actions.

„We can also just… not. Dance.“, she said, raising her voice to remain audible over the commotion of the dancing crowd and the music. The dance floor had cleared up a little since she had left. She looked around uncomfortably for Victor, but he was nowhere to be seen. She had already said good night, both tears and an apologetic expression in her eyes. And though she had noticed the worry in his face, he seemed to have respected her wish to be left alone. Or at least she hadn’t seen him leave the Great Hall from her spot on the stairs, and he hadn’t approached her again. Still, it felt impolite to return to the ball after already having excused herself. Even if he had already returned to the ship, she thought and had already opened her mouth to voice her reconsideration towards Fred when he said: „Oh no, no take-backs.“

It was only when he had led her to the middle of the dance floor that he turned around to look at her. „Unless you’re going to hex me. Or you really don’t want to.“, he said, grinning down at her as she met his gaze. There was something in his eyes she didn’t recognize. Maybe worry. Or consideration.

She shook her head. „Where is Angelina?“, she asked, looking around once again.

„She already left.“, he replied looking unbothered, swaying back and forth on his feet, fixing her with his eyes. „And George?“, she added. She almost never saw them separately. So much so that seeing him alone seemed mildly suspicious. She squinted at him. Fred all but lifted his brows, a beyond amused expression on his face, and after a second she understood, feeling her cheeks burn up. „Oh.“, she said almost inaudibly, averting her gaze towards one of the empty tables by the side of the dance floor. Or she could also just leave again, she thought. „I thought the two of you-.“, she began, looking up at him.

„Contrary to popular belief, not all of the student body believed this ball to be the fairytale experience of their lives.“, he shrugged. „Some of us were just having a bit of fun.“ She frowned. „And by the way I know you and by the way you’re looking at me right now, neither applies to you, dear Hermione.“, he added and suddenly, Hermione realized that her make up had to be spread out evenly across her entire face and the picture of a mercat crossed her mind, immediately being replaced by one of a panda, then by one of her own face, but in shambles.

Fred seemed to predict her thoughts and just as she moved to turn away, his hand landed on her elbow. „Which is not to mean that you don’t look beautiful.“, he added, the mocking expression on his face not quite matching his voice. „And that you also agreed to dance with me.“

Hermione’s heart fluttered in her chest. She was torn between really not wanting to be here, in this hall, the way she felt, with him, and simultaneously feeling her legs not move and, oddly, her brain not mind when he turned her towards him again and placed her one hand on his shoulder, holding on to the other with his, just as a new song began.

„So.“, he said as he swayed her from side to side. He had not exaggerated when saying that he did not know what he was doing. Hermione briefly wondered if having the winter ball be a regular occurrence at Hogwarts would be beneficial, even if it was just to have the students learn the bare minimum of ballroom dancing. „What happened to you hot-shot date?“, he asked, interrupting Hermione’s thought process. „No, wait. Don’t tell me!“, he then interrupted. „Does it have three letters and rhyme with ‚gone‘.“

She huffed, staring straight ahead at his chest.

„Don’t mind him.“, Fred continued, readjusting his hand on her waist whilst looking out into the slimming crowd of people on the dance floor. „It serves him right.“

„Probably.“, she said as if that wasn’t basically what she had told Ron loudly and quite emotionally an hour ago. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about discussing the subject with his brother. Especially Fred, who seemed to interpret any and every opportunity at nagging Ron as both convenient and justifiable. But then again, she thought and looked up at him, he wasn’t wrong.

„We all thought that he might get off his ass.“, Fred mused, grinning at her boyishly. „And honestly, the only person he has the right to be mad at is himself for not realizing.“

„Not realizing what?“

„Not realizing he’s interested until someone else cut in.“

Hermione shrugged but couldn’t help a smile. It felt good to have someone else say the words. Even if she knew them already. Then she grinned as she realized that currently, at this very moment, her mind was accepting Fred as an authority on the subject. As someone whose opinion mattered.

They remained silent as the song faded out and a new one began. Hermione’s mind wandered. She had got to get Harry to focus on the second task, she thought. So far they knew nothing. So far, all they had was that bloody screeching egg and a whole trunk of questions. And there were only a little more than a few-.

„Would you have said yes?“

„What?“, she asked, furrowing her brows at Fred.

„Would you have said yes, if he had asked you in time? Ron?“, he repeated, head cocked to the side, their mutual swaying not at all matching the pacing of the song anymore.

Hermione lowered her gaze towards her feet, seeing herself step right, step left, step right, as she pondered the question. „I don’t know. Maybe.“, she murmured, feeling her cheeks blush once more. ‚Maybe‘ was all she had. Because it felt so unlike Ron to go to the length of asking her to something like this. Because maybe him asking her would mean that he wasn’t really being Ron.

„I don’t know.“, she repeated.

Fred nodded, then lifted his arm over her head and pushed her waist to spin her once around herself, despite the fact that the music had stopped once again. When she had eyes on him again, he was grinning. „What about me. Would you have said yes to me?“, he asked.

She cleared her throat. This did not feel like the question to reply to with an ‚I don’t know.‘ It also didn’t feel like a question to relieve her burning cheeks. She watched his face, refusing to let go of it for a second. It would have felt like defeat. For a moment she forgot about her make up and the fact that it had to look like she had fallen into a well face first.

„I did say yes to a dance.“, she replied, keeping her face carefully neutral, waiting for his reaction.

„Well, technically you allowed me to drag you back onto the dance floor, then proceeded to almost leave me standing here all alone, several times, might I add. And then extended your nonverbal agreement to not one, not two, but three consecutive dances with me.“

She furrowed her brows. „We’re still on dance number two.“, she corrected.

„And you would leave me hanging, just to prove me wrong?“ „Possibly.“

He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. „If Percy were here, you would definitely agree to dance with him, wouldn’t you?“

She blushed. „Possibly.“, she repeated.

„Right, then this is my cue to leave this interaction.“, he said, though not lifting even a single finger off her waist. „You know, if I had to guess, I would say that gingers are your type. But you’re here with Victor.“ He cocked his head to the side. „Then again, who would have said no to Victor Krum? I would have gone to the ball with him, if he had asked.“

„Should I get you acquainted?“, she grinned up at him, and he looked thoughtful for a second.

„No. I found someone better.“, he then replied, grinning boyishly as song number three began. Hermione wondered, if proving him wrong was actually worth pulling her hand out of his grip and decided that it wasn’t.

The dance floor was almost empty now. Professor Flitwick had made his rounds and reminded the younger students of their bedtime and only a few of the older students were left scattered around the room, even the crowd at the buffet in the corner having cleared up considerably for the first time that night. Hermione wandered what time it was. And she doubted that the students leaving the hall in pairs, giggling like, well, school children, were going up to their dorms and to bed just yet.

„Do you want a butterbeer?“, Fred captured her attention again.

„Yes, I think I will get one.“, she said, eyes fixed back on the buffet. „Should I bring you anything?“

She heard him laugh and turned to look back at him, who was still holding her hand and lifting it up over her head, prompting her to turn underneath it once again. „The whole point of someone asking you, if you want something in this type of scenario is for them to imply that they are offering to get it for you, Hermione.“

„Right.“, she said, then adding: „And what kind of scenario is that, exactly?“

„You know, a gentleman managing to capture a lady’s attention at a social outing like this, taking her to dance, then offering to bring her some refreshments.“, he explained. She blushed. „But that doesn’t apply, does it? I mean,“, she pointed to herself, then to him and back, „the ‚lady and gentleman‘ part.“

„You sure look like a lady.“, he grinned, his hand lifting from her hip to pull on one of the loose strands of hair around her face. „And I have been told that I clean up quite nicely myself.“

She lowered her eyes to her hand on his shoulder. „How humble of you.“

„I’m not here to be humble. I’m here to be charming. And to sweep a damsel in distress off her feet.“

„‚Damsel‘ is not any more applicable than ‚lady‘. And I’m not in distress.“ She furrowed her brows. Had he just asked her to dance because she looked miserable? Because he pitied her? She gritted her teeth, and he seemed to read her mind, pulling her chin up, so she had to look up again.

„What I meant was that I wanted to cheer you up.“, he interjected. „And it also helped that you were alone.“, he added, and it took a split second for him to realize his mistake. „I mean, not in a concerning way.“, he added, shouted almost and his hand tensed around hers. For a moment, Hermione believed to see a shimmer of red lace the skin of his freckled face. „I mean, usually, you’re with someone else. Harry or Ron. And today, all night you were with Krum.“

„That’s rich coming from you.“, she grinned. „I don’t think I have seen you without George since… well, ever, really.“ „That’s how twins work, though.“

„Is it? I always thought that you were only forced to stay in close proximity to each other prior to your birth. And after, it was your choice.“, she said, lifting her eyebrows.

„Oh, and you spending-. Anyway, I’m not playing the blame game here, Hermione.“, he interrupted himself. „Know-It-All.“, he added and she rolled her eyes. „All I’m saying is that you were alone for once and I was too and you also looked upset, so I wanted to cheer you up.“, his hand lifted to the back of his neck and his troubled expression seemed to betray his carefree tone of voice. „And all I wanted was to get you a butterbeer just now.“, he added, smirking down at her. „But now I think I need something stronger.“

„By all means.“, she said, stepping aside as the fourth song began. „And bring some of those pears, while you’re at it.“, she smiled, then turned towards the empty table by the side of the room that she had spotted earlier. She felt a tug on her right hand that spun her back around to look at him. His head was cocked to the side, his face still a little less pale than usual. He seemed to ponder for a moment and then settle on saying: „Thank you for the dance.“

She nodded, feeling an honest smile creep onto her face. „Thank you for inviting me.“

„My pleasure. And you really do look beautiful tonight.“, he said, then turned away quickly enough for Hermione to almost miss the goofy grin on his face. She lifted a hand to her burning cheek as her eyes followed him across the room towards the artistically arranged table of refreshments. The way he walked looked familiar, she thought to herself, unable to avert her gaze. She had known him for years, seen him in the corridors or the Burrow. She remembered him passing her several times on the bothersome hike on their way to the Quidditch World Cup that summer, him an George belting song after song in a way that Hermione couldn’t quite call annoying, because it felt honest and natural to them.

Still, the way he looked, picking up two jars of butterbeer, then setting them back down, grabbing the whole plate of ham-stuffed pears with one hand and swishing his wand towards the jars to levitate them, felt different to her. Less ordinary.

He turned around on his heels, keeping his eyes on the plate in his hands for a moment before looking up to find Hermione staring. A wide grin was plastered onto his lips as if he couldn’t help it. He nodded towards the empty table Hermione had been headed for and she averted her gaze. She hadn’t even noticed herself staring.

She pulled out one of the chairs and carefully sat, draping her robes around her diligently, just to not have to look up at Fred, who set down the plate and one of the jars in front of her before taking a seat.

„Figured that it was no use to have all that food go to waste.“, he said, gesturing towards the full plate before grabbing a pear and inspecting it. „Besides, sustenance is much needed after the strenuous activity that is ballroom dancing.“

„It wasn’t that bad.“, she murmured but picked up a pear herself, resisting the urge to dunk it into her butterbeer. Something told her that the combination would be sublime. But this didn’t seem like the time and place.

She felt Fred’s eyes on her face as he said: „Why, thank you, Hermione. ‚Not that bad‘ is all I aspire to.“

She didn’t know what to say. Again. Furrowing her brows, she found this fact to be the most, maybe the only uncomfortable part of the experience that was dancing with Fred Weasley. The fact that he had her speechless. She wasn’t used to not knowing the answer, not knowing what to say. And again, she knew that about him. That he had that power over her. But today was different, she thought, watching him out of the corner of her eye and feeling her heartbeat quicken as he caught her looking, half-eaten pear in hand, grinning widely at her with closed lips. This was not the ‚You know you can’t do that.‘ ‚Oh, but we can.‘ type of speechlessness. This was the ‚You look beautiful tonight‘ type. How could speechlessness have this many facets, she wondered.

„They really should do this type of event more often.“, Fred said next to her. „I don’t know about you, but it really did awaken my Christmas spirit.“

She eyed him from the side. „Haven’t you and George been pranking people with mistletoe and carols and exploding holly all month?“

„Yes, but that is just business. I don’t need the Christmas spirit to blow up Gregory Goyle’s Quidditch bat with a twig of decoration.“

She nodded. Usually, the atmosphere of Hogwarts castle around this time of year did the trick for Hermione’s festivity. But this year, with the dance and the Tournament and everything else… it felt like there hadn’t been time to feel festive yet. So, she supposed, Fred was right. This was very close to the Christmas spirit. She smiled to herself.

„You know, there has been an odd lack of mistletoe this evening, now that you mention it.“, Fred mused.

„Oh no.“, she said as she saw him reach for his wand and almost pushed her butterbeer of the table, diving for his arm. „No, no. Fred, stop.“, she almost cried. „I didn’t mean it as a challenge!“ She looked around there were only a few students left, most of which didn’t seem to mind the absence of a mistletoe over their head. As for the teachers, Hermione did in no way whatsoever feel the desire to witness any physically affectionate or, more likely, painfully uncomfortable interactions among them due to Fred’s brilliant idea.

„Oh, then you shouldn’t have said it, Hermione.“, he grinned at her, wand in hand and she could almost see the spell forming on his lips as she grabbed for it, only able to reach his wrist as he stretched his arm out over his head.

„Well, I take it back. There has been no mention of mistletoe this evening. And none of holly either, while we’re at it.“, she demanded, leaning forward, trying desperately to avoid the platter of food with her sleeve.

„But how else will I get you to kiss me?“

She froze mid-reach, one hand pushed onto the table to stabilize herself, the other still outstretched, Fred’s amused face right in front of hers. „What?“, she blurted out before shuffling back hurriedly, dropping her eyes to her hands, then looking back at him with burning cheeks.

„I said,“, he began, slowly lowering his wand and aligning his face with Hermione’s, „how am I supposed to get you to kiss me?“

She felt her heart stutter in her chest. She did not know what to say. She stared into his eyes. She fumbled with the seams on her sleeves. She felt her cheeks flush. She couldn’t think of anything to say. She cleared her throat. „You-.“ Then, while her scattered brain still tried to remember if she had ever consciously noticed his eyes before, she leaned forward and quickly, almost hurriedly pressed her lips to his cheek before pulling away just as hastily. „You could just ask.“, she heard herself say before leaning in again and this time meeting his lips with hers as her hands tangled into the collar of his robes.

Had she ever noticed his lips, she wondered? Or his hands? They felt different on her waist than they had during their dance. Or dances, plural. They felt magnetic, like she wanted to move closer.

Her eyes felt like they had been glued shut, but she didn’t mind. Her hand felt his stubble where his cheek met his neck. Had she ever noticed that before?

His lips were salty against hers, and she briefly wondered what he had done with the rest of the pear as his hand passed up her arm and onto her shoulder. She felt small under his touch, tender. And all too quickly he — or maybe it had been her — pulled away. Her hands, that had only just found their way into his hair, refused to stop their wandering and with what felt like a sigh of her body, she opened her eyes again.

His lips were parted, his head cocked slightly to the side. He looked like he wanted to say something, but that he wasn’t sure, what. She grinned at him nervously before slowly pulling her hands pack to entwine them in her lab. She didn’t know how long the silence lasted and he didn’t seem to mind. His left hand was slowly passing down her arm again, then met her wrist and pulled it towards himself. A faint smile lay on his lips and for a second she wondered, if he ever didn’t smile. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she knew that he could feel the slight tremor of her hand in his as she reciprocated his smile nervously.

„How come that whenever you complain about our betting games and trickery, whenever you try and force us to stop, you never utilize this-“, he stayed silent for a moment, then finished: „this method? I have a feeling that you might be most successful with that.“

She snorted, fixing her eyes to their hands. „Don’t take it as an invitation to expand you pranking efforts.“, said the more present part of her… or maybe the more removed part.

„Oh, I most definitely will.“

[lxngbottom]

Cramps. | N.L. (+ D.T & S.F.)

in which the reader is having a really bad period, so her three best friends come and check up on her.

warnings: pain, periods, bleeding, swearing, we know how it is.

i’m on my period rn, & these three boys are my fav characters so this is mostly to comfort me (and idk if you guys can even relate, but my periods get THIS bad) (edit: this was NOT supposed to be this long but oh well i love these three)

gryffindor reader! (but anyone can read obv)

—

somehow, you had managed to make it through the previous school day. but, the whole time your stomach felt like it was completely turning on you, and with every step you took, the bleeding was so heavy. you couldn’t even remember the last time you went through so many pads and tampons in one day.

on top of that, you were an absolute emotional wreck. and, that became apparent to neville when seamus laughed over tripping over your shoe lace, and you looked up at your three best friends with tears in your eyes.

“merlin, y/n! i was only messing with you! what’s wrong?” seamus furrowed his eyebrows at you, only for you to bend down and groan in pain as you attempted to tie your loose shoe laces.

“i can’t do it!” you whined, a tear finally escaping your tired eyes. you stood up, and sniffled, not noticing the genuine concerned looks plastered across the three boys’s faces.

and then, if things couldn’t get any worse, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned around to meet a terrified looking ron and harry, staring down at your legs,

“y-y-y/n... blood! t-t-there’s blood running down your legs!”

you looked down, and sure enough, there was a bunch of it. you automatically began to cry, and the sobbing only got worse as you realized that this was happening in front of not one, not two, but five boys.

“nev—neville... p-please give me your jacket...” you choked out, rushing as the blood seeped between your thighs. he did so quickly, tossing it to you, and your tied it around your waist before running into the nearest bathroom.

“why would you point that out?” dean asked ron, eyeing him,

“what?! would it be better for her to stay like that the rest of the day?” the ginger snapped back, still not putting two and two together. ron wasn’t exactly wrong, but his execution was awful.

the boys sighed, deciding that maybe waiting outside the bathroom would do you some good. but, unfortunately, as 15 minutes passed, you never came out.

“m-m-maybe someone should go and get hermione. or lavendar. or one of the parvati twins?” neville suggested, scratching the back of his neck. seamus shrugged, honestly clueless on how to handle the whole situation.

luckily, a saving grace skipped by, grabbing the attention of all of the boys,

“ginny!” ron called out, and she stopped in her tracks, “thank merlin you’re here!”

the look on her face was questionable as harry, ron, neville, dean, and seamus all stared at her.

“w-what?”

dean spoke up first, more than concerned, “y/n went in there. she—she had—blood running down her legs. and, she started crying...”

that’s all it took for ginny to nod her head, “okay. you guys go ahead. i’ll take care of her!”

they did so reluctantly, more so your three best friends. as ron and harry wanted to be away from the whole scenario as soon as possible.

and, that was the last they heard from you yesterday. today, they waited for you to come down from the girl’s dorm, but you never came.

they waited for you in the great hall, but again, you never came.

little did they know, you were curled up in a ball on your bed, sobbing from the excruciating pain that filled your whole body. this cycle was hitting you like a truck, and you’d wished that somehow you had been more prepared for it.

hermione had left you reluctantly that morning, never seeing a fellow girl having such a bad period before. you had cried all night, and you and her both had barely gotten any sleep. so that’s why when neville saw hermione drifting off to sleep during a shared class, he was absolutely baffled.

as that same class ended, the three boys caught up with hermione,

“hey, granger! where’s y/n?” seamus asked, and she rubbed her eyes.

“she—um—“ a yawn interrupted her response, “she’s in our dorm. she doesn’t feel well.”

neville’s mouth went agape, and he finally put two and two together.

“i wouldn’t go and see her, though. you guys embarrassed her yesterday. she told me all about ronald, and ginny, and seamus. she’s really upset, and... she’s just in a lot of pain. so, just let her be for a while.”

and with that, she left the three boys. they gave each other weird looks, mentally questioning each other.

you on the other hand at this time, were crying as you changed out your bed sheets for the second time that day. it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable experience to have to explain to a house elf why you needed a bunch of new clean sheets.

dinner soon came, and even then, the boys expected to see you sitting with them, eating and laughing. but, you still hadn’t left that dorm.

so, neville packed some extra food, and the three made a journey to gryffindor tower, just to see if they could break the rules to make sure you weren’t dying. (of course, all three of them were convinced that you were on your death bed.)

they slipped past the prefect, climbing up the stairs to your dorm.

dean was just about to knock when they all heard your voice,

“stop, hermione! please! i don’t care that i missed my classes! i’ve been puking all day, bled on my bed, almost shit my pants four times, so, i really don’t care about snape and what he said about me! piss off!”

seamus’s lips curled, and the sound he let out could only be described as pure disgust. but, neville nudged him,

“she can’t help it. don’t be like that...” he whispered, still not sure if you were alright with visitors at the moment.

“well, i’m sorry! but, dean, neville, and seamus are all worried about you! they—“

that’s when they heard a blood curdling scream, and it sounded exactly like you. it made them jump,

“I WANT TO KILL MYSELF! FUCK!”

“don’t say that! it’s only for a few days, y/n! i told you i would help you with anything you needed!”

“then you can start by fucking off! go away!”

the boys looked at each other,

“maybe—“

“yeah—“

“later.”

they all mutually agreed, and ran down the stairs before hermione had the chance to see them.

they settled in the common room, deciding to do their homework until they knew it was a safe call to go and see you. they all worried about you tremendously, as they had never heard you talk to a fellow friend like that. you simple weren’t that type of person in their eyes. you had always been patient with people, so it was a wonder to them how you loved them so much.

they spotted ginny, walking up to the girl’s dormitories with a glass of ice cream in hand. they naturally assumed it was for you. and truth be told, when ginny entered with a sweet smile on her face, holding the cold treat, you realized you had never been more happy to see a weasley before.

as pathetic as it sounded, you cried to ginny while eating the chocolate ice cream. you sobbed to her about all the events of that day, and the day before. your crush on neville and how you believed he didn’t feel the same, the way that seamus chewed too loudly, and how hermione was too uptight sometimes. she simply listened, knowing that’s all she could really do.

finally, the three boys saw ginny coming down the the glass now empty, and they ran up to her,

“is she okay?”

“what’s happening?”

“can we go and see her?”

she chuckled and shook her head them, “she’s fine, you guys. calm down. i’m not so sure if she’ll want to see you guys, but you guys can sure try.”

they all three looked at each other, slightly terrified.

but, they sucked it up and made their way up again. of course, seamus couldn’t hold back from making a snide comment,

“i swear, if i get a book thrown at my head and end up in the hospital wing with a concussion, i’m blanking it on neville.”

“why me?!” neville scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air,

“because! you fancy her and are the most worried about her! she’s just on her period! is it really that big of a deal?”

before neville could answer, dean cut in, “yes, seamus. it is a big deal. maybe not to us, but to her it is. try bleeding out of your dick for a week while your inside are ripping apart!”

if you would’ve been present, you definitely wouldn’t hugged dean for that one.

they finally arrived, and they argued for a moment over who would be the once to knock on the door. it felt like they were stepping into a death trap. finally, neville agreed to do it.

he did so gently,

“what?” you asked, “who is it?”

dean and seamus eyed each other, definitely panicking.

“erm—it’s... us...”

you groaned, and looked down at your state. you were only in your bra and underwear, trash bucket in your lap, nausea getting the best of you... again.

but, you figured seeing your three best friends would bring you some comfort. this wasn’t their fault, and you didn’t want to take it out on them anymore.

“um... you can come in, but warning! i’m—“

before you could warn them, the door flew open,

“naked...” you breathed out, looking down at the trash can.

they all went wide eyed, and neville covered dean and seamus’s eyes with his hands, and closed his own.

“close the door, you gits!”

neville did so with his foot, still covering everyone’s eyes. you let out a small chuckle at the fact, and shook your head.

“you guys can look, you know. you act like we haven’t been best friends since first year.”

“b-b-but you’re—naked!” dean responded, through neville still keeping his own hand over the boy’s face.

you pursed your lips as you felt vomit climbing it’s way up your throat, “who—“

that’s when they heard it. the violent sound of puking. neville thanked merlin that his eyes were closed, because he probably would’ve puked too.

“who cares?” you breathed out, wiping the slobber from your chin. that’s when seamus took neville’s hand away from his eyes, and realized how you looked.

you looked unrecognizable almost. you looked exhausted, pale, and like you had just been hit by twenty cars at one time. your eyes were all puffy and red from crying, and your hair was definitely not put together like it usually was. makeup was smeared all down your face, makeup from the day before that you simply didn’t have the motivation to get up and wash off. but, seamus couldn’t help but notice your bra and underwear.

“you—“ he chuckled, “you have teddy bears on your undergarments, y/n?”

you clenched your jaw, and tightened your grasp around the trash can, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes widened,

“kidding! i was only kidding! they suit you well!”

finally, dean shoved neville’s hand off as well, and neville opened his eyes back up reluctantly. neville and dean took in your state, much less of a laughing matter to them, as they were more of the calm friends.

“merlin, y/n... are you alright?” neville asked, approaching you slowly. you shook your head,

“i’m dying...”

the three boys gasped, and you looked at them funny, “i’m kidding... but i feel like i might...”

that settled their nerves a bit, the theory of you dying slowly fading away. you spit in the trash can, and set it back down on the floor. of course, seamus being the curious cat he is, looked in the trash can.

“don’t look at my vomit, finnigan! don’t you have any manners?”

he jumped back, and nodded his head.

“what are you guys doing here, anyway?” you asked, laying down fully on the bed, stomach and legs exposed.

“well—we know—you—you sorta—“

neville sighed at dean’s awkwardness about the whole situation, “we know you’re on your period. and, we know that you’re in a lot of pain. and, we just wanted to come and check up on you.” he glanced at the other two boys, “right?”

“yeah, definitely!”

“totally!”

you giggled at seamus and dean, “oh, what gentlemen. how could i ever thank you?”

seamus couldn’t hold it in. the comment just slipped from his lips,

“well, seeing you in your bra and underwear is thanks enough in my book!” he joked, nudging dean.

surprisingly, the only one who laughed beside seamus... was you. this surprised the boys, as you were sure that would earn seamus that book to his temple, or at least a smack to the face. but, it didn’t.

“see? i told you guys she’s fine! she’s laughing like she always does!”

neville seemed to look over at you for reassurance, just to make sure that seamus hadn’t crossed a boundary with one of his crude jokes. it was something that seamus had done quite a few times, without even realizing it, but it was simply because he didn’t know how to put a filter on. you knew at the end of the day that seamus wasn’t trying to disrespect you. plus, it was something you had go get used to, being one of his best friends and all.

at one point, the boys had eased into the floor, getting things for you if you needed it. seamus even asked why exactly girls even got periods, and you explained it to him in full detail.

“so... like—the inside of your uterus is actually tearing? i thought dean was joking about that!”

you shook your head, “unfortunately, it’s not a joke, finnigan. it’s very real...”

“well, is it this bad for all girls?”

“no, actually. some girls only bleed for a couple of days, and it’s very light. they can go without cramps, puking... lucky bitches!”

that’s when the boys fell silent, even seamus himself. until he raised an eyebrow,

“is it bad that i’m kinda curious? you know—to see how it feels to... bleed... down—there...”

dean furrowed his eyebrows, but neville nodded his head in agreement.

“well, boys... i can’t make you bleed out your dick for seven days straight... but, i can punch you guys in the stomach with full force and show you how cramps feel!”

collectively, they all disagreed, which caused you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“but—it can’t be that bad, right? i mean, everyone can get a stomach ache...” dean questioned, but unsure of what he had just said.

“let me put it to you like this, thomas. imagine the weasley twins sneaking a muggle laxative into your morning pumpkin juice...” you started, “but that stomach pain for a whole week.”

dean put his head down, finally understanding. no wonder you had talked about almost shitting your pants.

that’s when the door swung open, revealing a surprised hermione,

“y/n! where are your clothes?! boys are in here! and plus, they’re not even supposed to be in here, anyway!” she snapped, immediately storming over to your closet, and pulling out a random shirt, throwing it at you.

“but, it’s too hot! and, any tightness hurts!”

“i don’t care! i couldn’t imagine sitting around with ronald and harry with my—lady parts hanging out!”

you chuckled at her hidden shaming, quite used to it by now. “oh, whatever, granger! it’s the same difference as a bathing suit! lighten up!”

seamus and dean snickered at the look on her face, and the way she stormed out.

“she’s right, y/n. not about—you know, we don’t care... but, just—seamus will be talking about it for the rest of his natural life if you keep your clothes off any longer.” neville stated, standing up and taking his sweater off. he passed it to you, making sure not to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable.

you smiled at the kind gesture. sure, it was a sweater, and you probably should choose the lighter t-shirt that hermione had snagged out for you. but, it was neville’s sweater, so, how could you refuse?

you slipped it on over your head, and pulled your hair through the hole. it was quite comfortable, and you were just the right amount of warm and cool. so, it worked out in the end. “thank you, longbottom. that was sweet.”

his face turned red at the small grin etched upon your face, but he shook it off and sat back down on the floor.

you all began talking again, not even noticing when seamus had gotten bored and ancy, and started snooping in your drawers. but, his eyes went wide at the sight of something in your drawer. he picked it up, and stared at it for a moment.

“uh... y/n...” he started, voice a bit shaky, “what’s this?”

he held it up, and you, dean, and neville all looked over.

“that’s a tampon, finnigan. i use it when i’m on my period so the blood doesn’t leak out.”

he took a beat of silence as he connected the dots, and his eyes seemed to widen even more,

“and... you have to put this where exactly?”

[al-longbottom]

Bill Weasley and His Relationships With His Family Members

These are headcanons I have about Bill Weasley and his relationship with each member of his family. This is entirely opinion and not at all canon. It also follows the headcanon of Neurodivergent Charlie and Autistic Percy.

~~

Bill and Molly

Bill always felt that Molly expected something different from him than he was willing to be and while he always wished they could be closer than they were he knew that it wasn’t his fault she couldn’t accept him for who he was.

When he was older he tried to maintain a happy relationship with his mother while keeping her at arm’s length, not wanting her to try and meddle in his life or try and persuade him to become what she wants for him and not what he wants to be.

Bill and Arthur

When Bill was born Molly had to leave her job to take care of him, since they couldn’t afford a babysitter 5 days out of the week. This made Arthur the only source of income, and they had another mouth to feed now, so Arthur took a lot of overtime. This, unfortunately, meant he wasn’t home much when Bill was young and therefore didn’t get much of an opportunity to connect with Bill, especially when Charlie and then Percy came along, meaning Arthur had to work harder and longer to support his family.

Bill doesn’t hold it against his father, but there’s a slight amount of bitterness when he thinks about his childhood where he wishes he had more than just his mother’s influence, or when he thinks about what could have been of Arthur and Bill’s relationship had they been better off, richer than they were or given more time to allow their relationship to grow.

Bill and Charlie

Bill and Charlie bonded over their rejection of their mother’s ideas for who they should be and formed an extremely tight bond. The two were nearly inseparable when younger, always going off on ‘adventures’ in the fields surrounding the Burrow, rescuing dragons and fighting off bad guys, pretending sticks off the grounds were wands and large rocks were dark wizards and dragon poachers.

Bill and Percy

Bill and Percy are possibly as opposite as two siblings can get. Where Bill is adventurous Percy is a homebody, where Bill is a thrill-seeker Percy is careful, where Bill is fun-loving Percy is serious. Percy is infinitely aggravated by Bill’s carelessness and Bill just can’t stop himself from teasing his little brother till he’s red in the face.

Bill and Fred

Bill loves Fred’s jokes and fun-loving personality, and oftentimes had a secret hand, even if it’s just a distraction or providing the supplies, in their pranks around the burrow while he still lived there which made the three of them very close.

He shows up for the grand opening and is even their first buyer, purchasing a Pygmy Puff as a gift for Fleur.

Bill and George

Bill, as I said before, loves the Twin’s pranks and oftentimes would take part in them while he still lived at the Burrow, but out of the two twins, Bill feels sort of more… protective of George. He sees how Molly treats him, trying to meld him into her image like she tried to with Bill and every time he hears Molly try to guilt him into ‘behaving’ he quickly changes the subject or makes up something he and George have to do in the other room.

Bill and Ron

He sees his brother’s desire to get approval from his mother and while he doesn’t get as much time with Ron as his other brothers when he does see him he tries to let Ron know he has value even if he doesn’t fit their mother’s image, talking to him about things like quidditch, challenging him to games of chess, and bringing him back a signature dessert from any place he visits.

Bill and Ginny

Ginny was born when Bill was 10, far too old to be hanging around with younger sisters… or so he told his friends. Within the first year she was born Bill was enraptured, a little sister! But then he was at Hogwarts and only saw her on vacations and she barely remembered him by the time she was old enough to form a true bond, and unfortunately they didn’t get close until after the second war against Voldemort when Ginny would come over to have dinner with him and Fleur.

[citydreamgrls]

a christmas treat

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 5,243

a/n: a very seasonal one for you,, hope you enjoy !! :)

warnings: swearing , smut , 18+ 

It had been a drunken mistake. A situation she should never have been in at all. But one final party before the summer break had caused that fateful moment she wished had never occurred. Y/n had been in the library all evening, in a lazy attempt to avoid the Gryffindor party altogether, but decided she would need to return to her dorm at some point.

She’d hoped that maybe they would have calmed a bit now that it was later in the night, but to her dismay the excited shouts sounded the second she reached the common room’s door. With one breath she slipped inside, wanting to pass by the group huddled by the fire unnoticed.

“Hey y/n?” A voice called out.. Her friend Angelina leant over the back of the sofa with a beer in hand and a smile on her face. “You joining us this time?”

“I’m pretty tired, but thanks.”

“Oh come on, you said that last time. It’s the end of term, just have one drink with us?” She pouted, but the girl held her ground and shook her head.

“I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“So do the rest of us!” Lee groaned, “Just stay for an hour then you can escape us again.” He joked. She took the bait, leaving her books on the table and slipping next to Angelina.

She noticed the twins, unfazed by their presence at any sort of party. But she’d never really paid much attention to them, at most times she could barely tell them apart. But with a few drinks in her system, and the need to sleep fading with each one, she noticed one of them in particular. George.

She studied his face subtly as it glowed beside the fire’s light. His was skinnier than Fred’s, with a slightly different jaw shape. His voice was deeper than his brother’s, and she noticed it more as he laughed with disregard for how loud it was and was always the one to start a joke. Then the mole, on the right side of his neck. That was the last thing she noticed before he caught her staring.

But he just did what he always would when someone looked too long, and winked carelessly. Then it was an internal battle not to blush like a child as she quickly looked anywhere but him.

He’d introduced himself not much later while she was pouring herself one last drink before heading up to bed. She’d almost choked at the sound of his voice, surprised that he was taking time to speak to her when he had a whole room of people at his command.

She was drunk, so was he. And she liked the way he smirked and leant down to her from his towering stance. Y/n let him take her ‘somewhere more private’ and fuck her.

That was it. But she reminded herself that he was drunk, so was she.

Nothing more.

So the next day she woke up earlier than the other’s and made her way down to the train alone, in case everyone knew what she’d let that tall redhead do to her the night before. But when they eventually joined her in the carriage, the only questions were about her rushing off so early.

Maybe he was embarrassed, she wondered as the castle went out of view and the lake came in. All that ran through her mind was him, everything she had done was fresh in her memories. So much so that she could barely remember herself being there, if it wasn’t for the hidden bruise he’d left on her shoulder she may have believed it was a dream.

He had felt like a dream.

But he was just drunk, maybe so much so that he had forgotten it all.

It seemed so when they returned after the summer, and he acted as though he’d never even met her that night. So her and the twins remained strangers.

At least until the Christmas break came around.

-

“I can’t believe they’re making you stay here,” Angelina huffed, often being the first to critique y/n’s muggle parents and their choices.

“It’s just a precaution, I’m fine with them. But when the rest of the family come round, all I want to do is hex them to oblivion.” She laughed.

“It’s wrong though, they’re scared of a witch who isn’t even permitted to do magic outside of the school!”

“It’s only a few weeks, plus I can start studying.”

“Oh good, get all the studying out of the way so we can actually have fun when I get back.” She grinned, snapping her case closed and looking round the room.

“Go, or you’ll miss the carriages.” The girl laughed and pushed her out the door.

“Please don’t spend the whole break alone? And write to me!” She called before rushing out of the common room.

Later that evening she finally did what Angelina had asked of her, both requests. But not quite by choice. She was sitting in the great hall having dinner, the handful of students that remained making it a very peaceful meal. Her hand alternated between eating, flicking the page of her book and writing to Angelina to tell her how boring it was going to be.

She wouldn’t have noticed the two boys in front of her if one of them hadn’t coughed to get her attention. Her eyes looked up, wide and caught off guard as they smiled back with the same face.

“Hello y/n” They said in unison, making it harder yet again to tell them apart.

“You've been left here too?” One of them spoke.

“I don’t mind it,” she said quietly, turning her head back to the book.

Her heart was racing, of course George would tell his brother about the party, she was dumb to think otherwise. But neither of them were letting on about it. Still, they knew her name. He must remember.

“I’m Fred,”

“And I’m George, the better looking one.” He winked, and she froze.

“You okay?” Fred asked, frowning at how she had stopped at the sight of George.

The girl just nodded, resuming her letter to Angelina.

Now it was confusing, she couldn’t tell whether they were pretending to be strangers. Or they actually believed they were. The twins stayed in front of y/n as she carried on her multiple tasks, they didn’t dare interrupt her until she finished her letter and sealed it in the envelope.

“You know we’re the only ones from our year staying here?” Fred told her.

“Oh right, how come you two are here?” She asked them.

“We were hungry,” George said, waving his fork in front of her.

“She means hogwarts you dimwit!” Fred slapped his brother on the head, making y/n giggle sweetly. She had always thought they were annoying, with their pranks and lack of care for anything. But seeing them tease one another, she realised they were in fact quite funny to be around.

“Mother said she’d had enough of cooking for us all, so we’re stuck here this christmas.” Fred explained, not seeming too bothered by his family’s neglect.

“Ron’s here too, and Ginny but I haven’t actually seen her yet.” George frowned, looking round to see if he could spot his little sister.

“Maybe she’s been eaten by that troll hagrid’s hiding in the woods,” Fred said calmly.

“That would be our luck, all mum told us to do was look after Ginny this year.” George groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Back up, a troll?” The girl asked, but both twins just nodded, as if this was known information. “Never mind.”

-

From then on they sat with her at every meal, always telling her about tricks they would play on the few remaining teachers at the castle. It was four days into the holidays when Fred and George asked her to hang out, a difference to the studying she’d been doing previously.

“We’re heading down to Hogsmeade later, you wanna come with us?”

“You know, seeing as there isn’t really anyone else for you to spend time with,” George had added. The girl still hadn’t figured out whether he remembered the summer party seeing as the only time she saw them was when they were together, but regardless she decided to take Angelina's advice and make some friends.

“Yeah sure,” She closed her book and finished her toast before standing up, “I’ll meet you guys in the common room then?”

-

It was snowing heavily and y/n was glad she’d put on an extra layer to walk to Hogsmeade, especially when the twins forced her to defend herself from an impromptu snowball fight. Even when she’d hit them both in the face they didn’t give up.

Being away from the castle felt much more fun, even more so with Fred and George taking turns to tease her. Which, surprisingly, she didn’t mind too much. It was never malicious with them, and if they gave it out it was only the rules that they took it too.

They spent the whole afternoon scouring the shops and drinking butterbeer until y/n’s legs felt like jelly and Fred had to give her a piggyback ride up the hill again. Not that he was very trustworthy after him and George raced to see who could drink a pint quicker, five rounds of it.

“Don’t fall asleep y/n,” George had warned as the girl’s head bounced lightly against his brother’s back. “Or Fred will dump you in the shrieking shack!” The girl pretended to be scared, but tried to reach out to push the boy away. Instead she fell off the side of her ride and brought him down with her.

All three of them burst into fits of laughter and spent the next 40 minutes drunkenly trying to complete the 15 minute walk back up to hogwarts. When they finally made it back to the common room, after dodging teachers in the hallway, they fell onto the sofa in front of the fire.

“Fuck, marry, kill…” George started, making y/n and Fred groan in fear of his next few words. “Snape, Lupin, Dumbledore.”

“I think this one might be for you y/n,” Fred laughed.

“Okay,” The girl thought for a second, “right, I would fuck Snape, Marry Lupin… I can’t kill dumbledore though. I’d be evil!”

“You’d FUCK SNAPE?” They cried out in unison, disgusted by her final decision.

“Yeah, I think he’d be a good fuck.” They nearly screamed at what she said. “What…” she laughed, “all that rage has to go somewhere,”

“Stop stop!” George begged, unable to listen any longer. But the girl liked how it bothered him.

“Anyway, I like a deep voice.” She, not really, joked.

Fred started up the hysterics, suddenly unable to stop picturing how Snape would look naked. Something he was not proud of.

“Oh don’t I know it,” George had said.

She hadn’t registered what he’d said, too busy laughing with them both still tipsy from their day in the village. But later on when she sobered up, y/n thought whether George was trying to hint that he did in fact remember everything.

Ron and Harry came down from their dorm room while the older three were still in fits.

“God what happened to you lot,” The twins’ younger brother had called out over the noise, “We can hear you from upstairs.”

“You’ll never guess what y/n said about Snape!” Fred had wheezed out, but was quickly muffled by the other two who decided that both Harry and Ron were too young to know about their game.

“What? I wanna know,” Ron had whined.

“Don’t be so nosy Ron.” George had teased.

“Fred was gonna tell me.” He pointed out, but George kept a tight cover on his twin’s mouth.

“He most definitely will not.”

The two of them left with slumped heads, admitting defeat, and Fred was freed from his temporary prison. He slapped both of his friend’s heads.

“What was that for?” y/n complained.

“I couldn’t breath you idiots.”

They couldn’t help but start laughing again, something which would recur throughout the day until they eventually sobered up before dinner.

-

Y/n came to terms with the twins and their drinking habits, as it was really the only thing to do to pass the time with so little people around. But when Fred and George were around they always had fun.

The girl watched them whizz about the empty quidditch pitch on their brooms, tossing a ball between themselves. She slipped the flask from her coat and took a sly sip of firewhiskey to keep herself warm. Normally she wouldn’t drink at all, not having done so since the dreaded party where she and George had- you know. But she decided she wanted to do whatever she felt like, it was a rarity.

George flew over, hovering in front of her as she hid the whiskey back in pocket.

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” He raised his eyebrows, he’d been trying to convince her to get on since she’d taken a seat on the stands.

“Not a chance, Weasley, neither you nor Fred are sober enough. I’m precious cargo.” She smiled. The boy’s hair was blown away from his face, held back by the amount of times he’d run his hand through it. She watched his brown eyes sparkle in the winter sun, and was reminded of why he had ever caught her attention in the first place.

“You wanna talk about sobriety eh? Empty your pockets then y/n.” Her stomach filled with butterflies at the sound of his voice speaking her name, but she did as he asked.

“I’ll let you have some if you stop trying to get me on that deathtrap.” The girl sighed and he nodded, taking the flask when she offered it out.

“Nice doing business with you,” He winked and flew off.

-

The next week went by quickly, and y/n had pretty much forgotten about her worries with George. And now, sooner than any of them had realised, it was Christmas eve. Both twins had burst into the girl’s dorm to drag her out of bed, throwing her around the room until she threatened to vomit on both of them.

“Hurry and get dressed or we’ll miss breakfast.” They called, leaving her dizzy in the middle of the room.

Fred discussed their plans for the day while y/n drank endless cups of coffee, not having the stomach for any food. Not to mention, George had been staring at her for the past 10 minutes, making her too nervous to move much. She much preferred it when she had something stronger to drink.

“I heard from Harry that Ron fancies Hermione,” Fred spoke up, no longer interested in our day's activities. That was very him, he would make a decision then immediately change his mind.

“Well that’s obvious,” George scoffed, having yet another bowl of cereal. She wondered how he could burn off all that he ate. “He’s looks at her with stupid puppy eyes,”

“You have stupid puppy eyes,” The girl joked, earning a look from the twin.

“Oh really?” He laughed. “You practically pout whenever you want something from us?”

“At least it works for me,” I winked, making George choke a bit.

Fred laughed, rarely seeing his brother flustered. They’d discussed crushes before in the past, but y/n had never come up before. He watched the two of them tease one another over the table and thought that they suited each other in reality. Plus, he had never seen George pay as much attention to a girl as he had y/n, even ones that he’d admitted to liking.

-

That evening had proved Fred’s theory right as they once again sat in front of the fire, the three of them sharing a bottle of y/n’s muggle alcohol. It burnt like hell and tasted like shit, but they had never gotten drunk quicker so decided it was the logical choice.

George had made sure that y/n was warm enough, without expressing too much concern for her that she would notice. Fred had to hide his smug smile as he watched his brother start to flirt shamelessly with their newest friend.

“What do you mean Hogwarts is scary,” He had laughed, “We’re the only things to be feared.” Fred had added.

“And now you’re one of us!”

“As much as that is a very sweet sentiment,” The girl stroked their heads jokingly, like dogs. “But it’s when it’s quiet, like now. My dorm’s just me, and I had the silence. It feels like someone’s always watching.”

“Aww little y/n’s scared.” George had teased, reaching down to tickle the smaller girl. She kicked and wriggled but he was bigger and stronger and could hold her down.

Those hands, holding her arms in place. It almost threw her straight back into the memory of them in secret passageway, him gripping her as he kissed her neck. If it hadn’t been for the tickling, the boys probably would have noticed her shiver at the reminder. But it was lost in their laughter.

It wasn’t long before Fred decided he would give his, slightly older, brother a chance to talk to y/n alone. So he overemphasised his drunken state and wobbled up to bed, leaving the pair by the fire.

-

They sat in silence for a while, George letting the girl curl into his side as they passed the bottle between them. She watched his hands play with the sofa’s arm nervously and giggled slightly.

“What?” He asked, feeling the need to whisper amongst the silence.

“Nothing,” She dismissed.

“I’ve had fun this holiday,” y/n admitted.

“We have too,” George told her, smiling down sweetly. His top lip curled up ever so slightly, making her blush again like she had done the first time he’d noticed her. “It’s been better than being at home really.” He laughed.

“My family are pretty boring,”

“Oh I can tell,” y/n glared up at him. “I’m kidding darling don’t worry.” Her stomach did multiple flips, not only at the nickname, but at the way he took the arm that was around her shoulder and stroked her cheek. In fact, he didn’t stop. It just became normal after a few seconds, as if he’d always shown her this kind of affection.

“Why didn’t you go home this year?” He asked y/n.

“My parents are muggles, as you know,” she raised the bottle with a gentle laugh “they don’t quite get magic.”

“Oh right,” he was truly invested in her as she spoke, taking in every word with genuine interest.

“They were worried I would let slip to the rest of the family when they came to stay, and well, they haven’t really told anyone else about me.” y/n felt ashamed to be telling George about her family in such a negative way.

“That’s a shame,”

“I don’t mind, they’re just careful people.”

“Still, they should be proud. Not everyone can be a witch,” He laughed.

“I’ve had more fun here anyways, so I won’t complain.” She leant her head on him for a few minutes, watching the flame from the fire disappear over time.

“Can I ask you something?” George suddenly said, making her stiffen up. She just nodded.

“Do you remember, before the summer break, there was a party here?” It was the moment she had been dreading ever since the night itself.

“Uh, yes I do actually.” she gave in, seeing no point in lying to him.

“And you can remember us going off to-”

“Yes George,” she cut him off, embarrassed that she had never mentioned it to him.

“I never told anyone about it,” He told her, making the girl relax ever so slightly. “I didn’t want to just in case you were embarrassed.”

“Thanks, I wasn’t embarrassed as such. Just more scared, that you’d think it was a mistake.” Admittedly she had felt the same, but only because she presumed he would’ve never gone for her had he been sober.

“Why would you think that?” He asked.

“Come on George, we’re different.” The boy had always appreciated how she said his name, and even now it made him giddy with happiness. “You’re friends with every Gryffindor, and they all adore you. I would much rather have my head in a book all day every day.”

“Unless me and Fred are involved.” He wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah well that’s different,”

“Different how?”

“You two are fun,” she admitted.

“And everyone else isn’t?” He smirked.

“You know what I mean, it’s just different.”

“Because of me and Fred? Or… just me?”

She watched his face as he studied hers, taking a deep breath as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re only saying all this because you’re drunk,” y/n scoffed, getting up to leave but he took her hand and kept her sat down.

“Maybe, but that doesn't mean I haven’t been thinking about it.”

His eyes were deep and made the girl’s heart tense as he spoke genuinely. “I thought you hated me after that party, so I just never bothered you. Until Fred decided to befriend you, and then I got to know you and realised why I introduced myself that night.”

“Because you wanted to fuck me?” She watched his face get closer but remained unfazed, refusing to move away from him.

“Of course, but also because you’re beautiful and quiet. Not to mention I’d had a thing for you ever since first year, but you were always in the library and I never got that chance to know you well enough.” He explained softly, their faces now dangerously close.

George glanced down at her lips and y/n couldn’t help but blush.

“I should go to bed,” She whispered, not moving closer or further away.

“Yes you should.” He pulled back with a smirk, seeing her finally let out a much needed breath of air. “Don’t get too creeped out tonight,” He teased as she stood up and walked round the back of the sofa leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

“Come keep me company then you fool,”

With that y/n left, her footsteps going up to her dorm and into the room. George waited exactly a minute after the door shut, counting the seconds one by one. It felt like a lifetime until he reached 60, but then he stood up and smiled to himself. He made his way up the tower, one step at a time to try and make her wait a tiny bit longer. Ignoring the fact that he had been wanting to have his way with y/n ever since that night all those months ago. Having her around had been a joy, but it made his desire grow every time she smiled at him with those lips he couldn’t forget the feeling of.

The lips he noticed first when he opened up the door, not bothering to knock. She was sitting on her bed, just a nightdress on, waiting for him.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He had groaned, promptly closing the door behind him and taking off his shirt.

Y/n struggled not to drag him down as he stood over her body, his abs completely mesmerising her. She knew quidditch was good for something.

“You gonna stand there all night?” She teased.

“No, I’m gonna fuck you like I’ve been wanting to all month.” This time she couldn’t help but gasp at how his words made her feel, her thighs clenching together as a reflex.

George pushed them apart as he climbed on top of her, pressing a leg between her own two. Making the girl moan out at his mercy.

“You���re desperate aren’t you?” She nodded, giving him those perfect eyes he’d been teasing her about only that morning. He dragged his fingers over her face, lifting her chin up so he could run them down her neck. This simple action antagonised the girl, who struggled not to beg for him with each finger slowly gripping her tighter.

Soon he was squeezing, making her moan out effortlessly.

“Hmmm, I love those noises baby.” She could barely hold herself back from pushing herself against his thigh, that remained propped between her legs. It felt like heaven to be touched by him again, and she kept her head held back in ecstasy.

“Please George,” she whispered to him, although there was no real need for them to stay quiet. He slowly moved his mouth to her ear, kissing below it and making her jolt with pleasure.

“What is it darling?”

“Please touch me,”

He took the hand from her neck and pushed her down flat onto the mattress.

“Strip” he demanded, watching her closely discard her nightdress and throw it to the ground. George let her eye him up as he took off his trousers, finally revealing the extent of his bulge as it pressed tight against his boxers.

Y/n could feel it against her pussy as he moved back on top of her, her neck being sucked hard by the boy. He loved the way she reacted to every touch, every finger that ghosted her body, and every kiss placed upon her. It all garnered a gentle moan. George wanted to hear it more and more, he felt entranced by her noises and internally begged for it to never stop.

He pushed himself against her pussy, rubbing slowly with no rhythm to catch her off guard, which god it did. Y/n was all his in that moment, letting herself be whatever George needed as he teased her to the edge. Her breath held as the boy took two fingers and ran them from her neck, freeing her from that euphoric feeling just to replace it with yet another as he slipped them between her folds. Y/n threw her head back, unable to control herself as he played around with her, slipping one finger in and out.

His other hand propped his body up, his biceps big and tensed near her head. She reached up and gripped his arm, moaning out as he pushed in yet another finger inside her, knuckle deep.

“You’re perfect darling,” He told her, “I would have given anything to hear these noises weeks ago.” His voice was deeper than usual, almost a growl as he removed himself from her completely. She whined slightly, making him smirk with how powerless she was.

George reached down to pull out his cock, causing the girl to yet again almost choke. She was amazed at how thick it was. She could feel it perfectly in her memory, but it had been a while and she’d never really gotten a chance to see it in all its glory.

But now there it was, thick and big and waiting to be thrusted inside her. She locked eyes with the boy towering over her body as he teased her with his tip.

“Please George,” She begged, “Please.” Her grip was back on his arm, tightening as he pushed inside. He was drunk on power as she begged for him, begged for him to fuck her even better than he had done months ago.

“Relax baby,” He whispered, pushing it all the way in. The sound that y/n made was nothing short of a scream, finally feeling him all the way in. Her pussy was dripping wet, and gripping onto George’s cock like it was going to be taken away.

The boy pounded into her like he’d been wanting to, ruthlessly and all the while he kept a hand tight around her neck. He thought about how good she made him feel, how small she was compared to him. He loved being able to throw her around and use her as he pleased. But most of all, he loved that she enjoyed it too.

“G-george, George I’m gonna-” Her pussy tightened, making George falter slightly but he didn’t dare stop when she was this tight. Instead he thrusted faster, an animalistic pace, making her scream so much louder than he’d ever heard. Then he felt himself get closer, just from the way her body reacted and he chased that high within her.

“Cum inside me, please.” She begged breathlessly, struggling to keep her eyes open. But when George finally let loose in her pussy, she couldn’t help but widen her eyes in the pleasure of it.

The boy fell to her side, his head resting on the pillow beside her as he caught his breath back slowly. She watched him brush his hair from his face and sigh happily.

“What are you looking at?” George asked, wrapping an arm around her naked body and rubbing his hand against her side.

“I just think you look very cute,” She giggled, high from the feeling of him.

“I fucked you like that, and you call me cute?” He huffed, half joking.

“I can do what I like now, you like me.” She teased him.

“Come on, I’m gonna get enough teasing from Fred when we tell him. I don’t need it from you too.” He groaned.

-

The next morning, Christmas day, the pair were rudely awoken from their pleasant sleep by Fred bursting into the room.

“I knew it! I could’ve bet good money on you two!” He shouted, shaking his brother as if he hadn’t already heard him come in.

Y/n groaned and rolled under the covers.

“Come on lazy get up,” Fred pulled George out of bed and onto the floor, groaning at his naked brother.

“Good thing you got George before me,” Y/n called out from beneath the covers.

“Get dressed you idiots, there’s presents downstairs let's go!” Fred ran off again, leaving his brother to pull on some clothes. He leant down to pull the covers from y/n’s face.

She felt him place a kiss on her cheek and she giggled at the cold air.

“You getting up?” He asked, passing her a jumper to pull on. She nodded silently, rubbing her head. “Hungover?”

“A little,” She blushed at his messy hair.

“I’ll carry you then,”

The girl put on some pajama shorts and held her arms out for George to lift her off the ground. He groaned happily and took her down to the common room to find Harry and Ron already opening gifts sent from Mrs Weasley. Ginny came racing down not long after, begging Fred to give over her presents.

“These ones are for you y/n,” Harry said when she was plonked on the sofa, warmed by the fire’s heat.

“Thanks Harry,” She looked down at the tag on the packages.

Hope you’ve had a good holiday darling, see you in the summer!

Y/n had spent the best holiday anyone could ask for with her two best friends, and couldn’t imagine having to leave them when the summer came around. She frowned, but the boy with his arm still on her waist saw the note before she could unwrap anything.

“You’ll have to come home with us next summer, not a chance am I letting your parents steal you away.” He joked, but his offer was sincere. She never had to worry about George hiding her away like her parents had done.