Summary: Having written a letter to George detailing your feelings to him on a sleepless night, you decide he’s never to see the letter you had written, only somehow it ends up in his hands.
A/N: Hi loves! I wrote this one for my lovely friend @megantje123! I did change a couple of bits around from your request for the story, but I hope you enjoy it still! Enjoy 💖
You
rummaged frantically through your belongings, pulling things out of
your trunk and scattering them across your bed and the floor before
you moved over to empty your school satchel. You had been sure you
had put it away before class that morning, intending to drop it in
the common room fireplace later in the day, but the letter seemed to
have vanished.
Panic
filled you as you rifled about for the envelope. Why was it that the
boy that filled you with so much comfort was so difficult to tell
your true feelings to? Perhaps you had been stupid to assume that
writing it on paper was a good idea. What if someone else had found
it and everyone would find out? What if George found out?
“I know, I know. I’m late, Fred made me lose track of time,” George walked over to where I was sitting in the library.
I rolled my eyes and laughed, “It’s fine, Weasley. Just don’t make it happen twice.”
Professor Trelawney asked me to help George with palm reading. Personally, Divination wasn’t my favorite either and to be honest, not my best. I was still willing to help a fellow Gryffindor and a friend. Especially if that friend were George Weasley.
I sat crossed legged on the chair and turned to face George, scooting closer. George looked to be studying my legs. I only had on my skirt and knee high socks. I pushed the thought away to get started.
“Okay, give me your hand,” I held my hand out for his.
He held out his large hand to mind. I saw how veiny his hands and forearms were. My thoughts wandered thinking what else could be more veiny.
“Y/n? You still there?” George waved his free hand in my face.
“What yeah, just um thinking,” I smiled, blushing.
“Can I ask what, only because of your reaction,” he moved his face closer to mine.
I looked George in the eyes tracing one of the lines on his palm, “I was thinking about how this line says you’re gonna suffer for a long time,” I joked with him trying to sound scary.
George pretended to be surprised, “Wow, you’re good at this. I’m suffering as we speak,” he laughed and threw me a wink.
I figured he was just talking about the suffering of studying, or maybe it was between his legs.
I looked through my notes, reading them to George so he’d understand. Each time I pointed something out he’d move his hand there and brush it against mine. His leg touched mine, but I didn’t move.
I bit my lip, wrote a few things down and looked between my notes and George. He seemed to be distracted, but I shook it off.
“Okay, I think we’re done now,” I said to George gathering my things.
“Already,” George pretended to pout like a little kid.
“Well what else did you have in mind? A Potions study session?” I giggled.
“Absolutely not,” George made a face. “Follow me.”
George grabbed my hand, pulling me outside of the library towards the courtyard.
“George it’s dark, why do you wanna go outside?”
“Shhh,” he put a finger to my lips. “You ask so many questions, it’s adorable.
I rolled my eyes and followed him to the forest. It looked pretty at night with the billions of stars and moonlight being the only light. Spors of light floated around, it looked like floating glitter.
“Wow, George I didn’t know it looked so pretty here at night,” I did a 360 of the view.
“That’s why I brought you here,” George said.
I shivered in the breeze, it was getting colder. Too bad I didn’t have my cloak or sweater.
“Here take my sweater,” George lifted my arms up to slip his sweater on me. It smelled like cinnamon and home. I hugged myself feeling instantly warmer.
George put an arm around me and led me down the path. It kept getting darker and creepier. George casted Lumos for some light. What if we accidentally walked to the Dark Forest, I’d kill him before anything could.
“George, mind telling me where were going,” I said half irritated.
“Just relax, do you need a destination for a walk?” George looked down at me.
“Yes, Weasley, you do. And I wish my dorm were the destination. This place freaks me out,” I held myself more, avoiding the trees to the side of me as much as possible.
“What? Don’t think I can protect you?” George laughed teasingly.
I stopped and turned to him and put a finger on his chest. “Right now, no I don’t. If I die, it’s your fault.”
George just kept laughing, nothing about this was funny. “What about from up here?”
George picked me up, putting my over his shoulder. He started walking back towards Hogwarts, leaving me still facing the never ending void of darkness.
“George! Put me down!” I hit his back, and he was unphased.
“I’m taking you to your dorm like you said, silly,” George held my legs still.
I sighed, defeated, “Well do it faster, I think I saw a giant spider.”
All he did was laugh and start jogging. I bounced on his shoulder, each jump made my skirt come up. My maroon thong was definitely on display for George.
“George my skirt,” I called, twisting to try and fix it.
“What-oh! Who’d you hope see those, y/l/n?” George put me down at the entrance.
I glared up at him, “The last person would be you.”
“Well looks like I’m the first, so I think it’s only fair I be the first to see them off,” George smirked at me wiggling his eyebrows.
“How do you know you’re the first? And no you can’t,” I stuck my nose in the air.
“Don’t lie, I can tell when you are,” George spoke more deeply.
All I did was roll my eyes. I truly didn’t know what else to say. George had a way with words, and it turned me on. In fact, I’ve been since the second he came to study with me. Maybe it was how he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, or his big arms and veiny hands, or how his hair got messy each time he ran his hand through it. Images of earlier danced in my mind.
An idea flickered in my mind as George walked just a foot behind me. Smiling softly to myself, I stopped and turned around on my heels.
“Georgie?” I spoke delicately.
“You okay?” He put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me confused.
I put my own hand on top of his, moving my weight to one foot and switching to the other. With my free hand, I slipped the thong off, which gotten soaked with my arousal. George didn’t need to know he was the reason, but it definitely gave him a hint.
I waved it in George’s view, his eyes were wide and dark.
“Because you saved me,” I smiled innocently and winked.
George took it and swallowed. He shifted uncomfortably as I noticed a tent forming in his pants. I began walking back, full of pride. I could feel how wet I was between my thighs, but I had to hold back to continue teasing George.
I toyed with the ring on my finger, twisting it until it fell off my middle finger. I bent down to pick it up when I felt George just behind me. I heard a small gasp leave his mouth at the sight.
“Are you okay?” I asked George this time.
“Oh I’m fine,” he looked hungry, full of lust.
We walked together to the common room, my cunt was aching more and more each time I walked. I needed George to do something now.
“Wait,” I stopped George putting a hand on his chest as I peaked around the corner. “There’s Filch.
“Maybe you can ask him to help you find you’re underwear,” George snickered at his joke.
I turned to face him, glaring, “You think you’re real funny, don’t you Weas-”
George cut me off kissing me and pulling me into a broom closet. I didn’t pull away because I couldn’t deny, I did like it.
“What was that for?”
“You were getting too loud,” George spoke. “And I’ve been waiting to do to it.” This time he spoke in my ear.
I smiled shyly at my feet. Why’d he make me so nervous? I needed to get out of it.
“Okay, I think we’re good,” I led George to the moving stairs.
I started walking up, George still behind, “Are you coming, or do you want detention?”
“Yes, but I’m just enjoying the view,” his eyes pointed to my skirt. He was so going to get it.
The portrait of the Fat Lady let us in, George immediately pinning me to the stone wall.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” his voice was low.
“Oh, but I do know, Georgie,” I let my hands explore his abs. “Wanna know how?”
He looked me up and down, taking in every inch of me.
“That’s how,” I slid my hand down to the rock hard bulge in his pants.
“Fuck y/n…” he gasped out as I palmed him.
“Why don’t we sit down, hmm?” I led George to the large red couch in front of the fire. I straddled him, feeling the bulge against my bare clit.
“George, you haven’t been good today,” I whispered in his ear, kissing down his neck as I unbuttoned his shirt. George’s breath caught when I removed my own, I did it slow enough to give him a show. I unclipped my bra, throwing it to the side with my shirt. George’s hands reached to cup my breasts, I pushed myself to his chest. His skin tickled my hardening nipples.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” George smiled with a cocky look.
“Really? How about you not paying attention studying, dragging me to a dark forest, and let’s not forget almost getting us a week’s detention,” I reminded George, my one hand in his hair, the other playing with my nipple.
“Do you know what that means?” I asked him getting closer to his ear.
“Please y/n, I promise I’ll listen. Just let me fuck you,” George begged, letting his hands explore my body.
I ran my hands over his toned and freckled chest, grinding down into his cock. He moaned at the contact he’d been desperate for.
“Sorry Georgie, good boys get to fuck me,” I kissed him, feeling his moans in my mouth. “Bad boys have to cum in their pants.”
I smirked at George as I started grinding harder against him. I knew he was enjoying every second of it. George was moaning and whimpering against me each time I brushed against his tip. He felt uncomfortably hard underneath me, aching for release. His mouth was gaped open and he furrowed his eyebrows, struggling to keep eye contact with me. As much as I did want him to fuck me, I was enjoying this too much.
“You’re gonna cum in your pants, aren’t you?” I teased George, he was close as I felt him twitch against me.
“Y-yes I’m gonna cum, please” George was finding a hard time to string a sentence together the closer he got to release. His words came out in desperate cries the longer he waited to orgasm.
“Cum for me, Georgie. Make a mess in your underwear for me like a dirty boy,” I held his face with one hand to watch as he came.
George bucked his hips to me, with loud moans and curses. I whispered praise to him as I put my forehead to his.
“Fuck, y/n, you just made me cum in my pants,” he laughed weakly, still recovering.
“You were so good, George,” I kissed him, getting off his lap.
I moved to take his pants down, getting wetter by what I’d reveal. I felt strangely turned on about what I’d just done to George.
“Let me help clean up the mess you made,” I gazed at George, he was still hard even after just cumming.
I slid his underwear down his legs, seeing just how much he had cum. I gathered the bit that was there with two fingers, sucking the substance off. George looked like he was in a trance watching my actions. I brought myself between his legs to lick off what was on his cock as if it were the tip of a popsicle.
“Shit,” George whimpered at the contact of my tongue against his sensitive tip.
“Better?” I asked George, and he shook his head no.
“I think it’s only fair you cum in your underwear now,” George mocked. His dominant side was coming out.
“Can’t, gave them to you,” I lifted my skirt showing George teasingly.
He reached down to get them from his pants pocket, holding them out for me to put on. I grabbed them from his hand, taking off my skirt to pull them on.
George took me back into his lap, this time wanting me to hold myself around his thigh. He lifted his thigh a little, getting hold of my hips. He let his hands glide up and down my torso.
“You’re gonna cum like this, then I’ll be the one to decide if you get fucked or not,” George growled cupping my breasts and pinching a nipple.
I started moving against George’s thigh, whimpering because I wanted to cum desperately. He helped guide me with one hand on my hip, the other resting near my back.
“George, I think I’m close,” I shut my eyes, moving faster and harder.
“I can feel how wet you are for me, darling,” George cooed, giving me butterflies. “Tell me when you’re cumming.”
I nodded in response to George, I felt like exploding any second. Everything about this moment was so hot to me. George cumming in his pants, making me do the same to feel the humiliation, that wasn’t actually all that embarrassing.
“Fuck, I’m c-cum-” I moaned loudly as I felt my release against George. My cunt tightening at the surge of overwhelming pleasure. I held George’s shoulders firmly, riding out my orgasm.
George’s fingers went to my pussy as I leaned against him. I flinched as he moved my underwear to the side, the fabric brushing my sensitive clit.
“You taste so sweet,” George licked me from his fingers.
I slid off George’s leg, putting mine in his lap, holding his arm. He looked down at me smiling as leaned to kiss me.
“Did you decide?” I asked George eagerly.
George took my hand, “What does this tell you?” I felt how hard he still was.
“It tells me you’re really big,” I pointed out jokingly.
“Such a tease,” George squeezed my ass. “Lay down for me.”
I got on my back as he towered over me, positioning himself to slide in my pussy. He held onto one of my hands, putting every inch in.
“Holy shit,” I gasped as George stretched me out, never feeling anything like it.
“Tell me when,” George said gently.
“Now, don’t hold back,” I squeezed his hand. “George, I don’t wanna walk tomorrow.”
He grinned boldly, promising my request. He began thrusting deeply. It wasn’t enough for him as he rested my legs on his shoulder allowing him to go as far as he wanted. He groaned feeling me tighten around.
“Keep doing that I’m gonna cum in you,” he growled, so I did it again.
“I guess you want to cum after me, huh?” George taunted.
“No please, let me cum Georgie,” I whimpered, begging him.
“Good girl,” he rasped sending his hand down to rub circles on my clit.
Sounds of moans and our skin making contact filled the room. I was close to my second orgasm, it felt stronger than the last. My legs shook each time George hit my g-spot and rubbed my clit in the right spot.
“I’m cumming,” I screamed to George, squeezing his hand and side of the couch hard.
“Oh yes, George right there, p-please,” my core tightened and relaxed. My eyes rolled back along with my head. George pulled out as I got off my orgasm.
“Bloody hell, y/n,” George sounded rough and taken back.
“What is it,” I breathed, my head was still back.
“I think I made you cream,” George bit his lip, looking at me lustfully.
I looked down to see my own cum dripping down my inner thighs. I looked at George smiling.
“Just cum in me,” I told George knowing he still hadn’t.
Almost as soon as he put himself back in my cunt, he twitched only a few thrusts from release.
“Y/n-” George moaned loudly as well, releasing the white substance in me. I felt his cum leak out of me onto my thighs.
Using a cleaning spell, he cleaned him and I up. George sat on the couch comfortably pulling me closely into him.
“On second thought, a Potions study session does sound nice,” George laughed only half jokingly.
“Maybe a walk to the Black Lake as well, or a weeks worth of detention,” I laughed with George snuggling into him.
could you please write something about how fred and george would take care of you on your period? like what each of them would do to comfort you? thank you🥺🥺
And wouldn’t understand why you would go from laughing to crying in less than a minute
And he would open his arms and be holding you tight and letting you cry because he wanted you to know that he was there for you, but on the inside he was freaking out because he didn’t really understand
He would try to make a product to get rid of your cramps, if he could cause discomfort why couldn’t he end it ?
Would try to make you get up and move to make you feel better
You would probably yell at him and he would feel bad but then you would be crying and apologising again and he knew it was nothing serious
Would get you anything you craved and would eat it with you so you wouldn’t feel bad
Would not be embarrassed to go get pads or tampons or whatever you use
Would probably make you tell him the difference between all of the products though
Would probably make a joke and ask if you were on your period when you were angry and you would get really mad at him and not talk to him and he never did that again
George
He would want to know literally everything about periods, like he wanted to know how they worked and why you got it
And he would just be staring at you with so much genuine interest and you would just be overwhelmed with so much love
Would watch sad movies with you and cry over them and he wasn’t ashamed to say that these romance movies were the best things he had ever seen
Would make you wear a heat pad and would massage you and caress your tummy and let you squeeze his hand whenever your cramps got really bad
He was happy to stay in bed all day and just chill and listen to you talk about anything you wanted to just to make you happy
Would probably ask his mum what to do to make you feel better
Would bring you tea and biscuits because there isn’t anything tea and biscuits doesn’t cure
You would tell him that it does cure you even though it doesn’t because he is just too sweet
Would never make you feel bad about being on your period and would understand that sometimes you got really angry at him but you didn’t really mean it
Would do anything to get you to stop crying and would hold onto you and cuddle you until you stopped
The first heart break you’ve ever had, you swore that death would come, striking, upon your shoulders. The feeling was everlasting, an emotion you’ve never experienced. A cocktail of painstaking sadness, fueled anger and undeniable hurt decided to place itself in your chest. But, just as every heart break, you mended. It took time for the pieces of your old self to shed into a newly made, stronger person. You had begun to get used to this new self and focused yourself on the comfort of your friends and the distraction of the laughs you shared.
Approximately eight months since your first break up, you were approached by a boy. George Wealsey, to be specific. You enjoyed his presence. He was renowned for his witty jokes and tended to pull the funniest, sly comments during class where he knew you would laugh. And there he was. After class, hands tucked in the pockets of his robe and asking if you’d like to accompany him to Hogsmeade that following week. George was known by his entire family for being the “emotional” twin. It was true. Fred was cool and collected and tended to think more with his brain rather than his heart. George differed. He knew the emotions of a break up from seeing his sister, Ginny, go through the same hurt. He consoled her in the private corridors, holding her hand when she needed to break her strong exterior for a minute.
The first time he saw you, he saw your hunched shoulders. Your eyes were swollen and dry with the tears you had slept through. Your breath was shaky and he noticed that you did not wear the smile you used to. From then on, George made it his mission, you could say, to search for that smile. And so he did. He searched everyday for your smile. And when you finally did smile, it was not like how you used to. No. It was different. It was better, better than anything he could have ever dreamed of. He noticed the crinkle by your eyes and the way your cheeks flushed as you became suddenly hot when you had a good laugh. Oh, from that instant, George Weasley knew he was screwed.
“I don’t know,”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Hermione peeked up from her book, her eyebrows raised.
“I mean. I suppose,” you sighed, “I’m a little wary for tonight.”
“Go on,” she motioned with her hand, placing her book down in front of her.
“It’s just… it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m nervous, that’s all.”
“Of what?”You sat up from lying on your dorm bed to look at her,
“I’m scared.”
Hermione slowly nodded, “It’s a first date, I’m sure everyone is at least a little bit scared on their first date.”
“No,” you shook your head, “It’s not that type of scared. I feel that nervousness, the excitement but I feel the terror as well.”
Hermione pursed her lips and arose to sit on your bed. “I know that last time-”
“Last time it was a nightmare.”
“Yes.”
“And the idea of… the idea of… the idea of being hurt like that again? ‘Mione you saw first hand how awful it was for me last time.”
“I know.”
“So what if I’m left hurting?” you paused and swallowed, “What if it happens again?”
Hermione peered at you, her best friend, and as seriously as she could replied, “What if it doesn’t?”
And so you went. Hermione helped you pick your outfit and sent you a wink before closing the door. It was a date unlike any other. The nervousness you had felt before, sitting in the dorm, faded the minute George made you smile. He spent the entire date being both respectful whilst making the funniest, crude jokes you had ever heard. At one point, you were nearly doubled over, begging him to stop making jokes as your stomach hurt. At the end, as he began to bid you goodbye, he asked you if you’d be interested in another date. Surprising yourself, you blushed and agreed. Each date the two of you had after was nothing short of perfection. Oh, had he filled you full of affection and caring words. He held your hand as if it were a gentle pillow and stroked your hand with the pad of his thumb. He sat with you while he studied, and though he complained that he was “dying of boredom” he still sat and even read to you when your eyes grew tired. The only thing you two hadn’t done was kiss. As much as George wanted to kiss your lips and your cheeks and everywhere he could, he knew, somehow, that you weren’t ready. You were so thankful for that, for him.
It was late. In the astronomy tower, George had pulled a reluctant and hesitant you to the Astronomy tower after hours. You agreed but only with the condition that you would bring your Transfiguration book in order to study for your upcoming exam. The stars highlighted the words of your textbook, George’s red hair tickled your thighs as he laid his head in your lap. He listened to your steady breathing and the sound of the pages turning and studied the curves of your face and the way you looked when you caught him staring. As you began to finish the chapter you needed to read, George huffed a breath of air and stood up abruptly.
“‘right then, get up.” he said.
You looked at him startled, “What?”
“I said to get up,” he stretched his hand out to you and motioned for you to take it.
“I’m almost done with the-”
“Darling, please,” he grinned, “come and take my hand.”
You stood, hand in hand, as he guided you to the open window of the tower. He stood next to you, placing his hand, gingerly, on your hip. “Look at the stars with me,”
“You romantic fool,” you teased, “you’ve pulled me away from my oh so interesting book to look at the plain stars?”
“Plain?” he scoffed jokingly, “I beg to differ. The stars are beautiful.” He gazed at the blinking lights and then turned to you, “Just as beautiful as you.”
You were not used to the compliments or the words of affection that George had given you, you hadn’t experienced it before and he loved the way you feverishly blushed. The redness of your shy reaction reached from your cheeks to the curve of your neck and he swore he’d give up the world to see your blush everyday.
“Is that so?” you asked, looking away from him and to the sky, “They are quite magnificent,”
“Not as magnificent or as breath-taking as you.” he answered honestly.
Your hands began to sweat and your heart could be closely compared to the speeding beat of a drum. His hand pulled your hips gently and you let yourself fall into him. You rested your hands on his chest, your palm against the thump of his own heart. It was, just as yours, beating. Beating. A melody the two of you made was enough to raise a symphony full of beautiful string instruments and the vibrations of a symbol.
His hand raised to cup your cheek but immediately stopped a breath away when he saw you flinch. His eyes immediately moved from the plumpness of your lips to your eyes.
“Please let me,” he whispered. Your fingers clutched onto his shirt, rolling the feeling of the fabric between them. You looked back up from where you hand rested on his chest and nodded. He placed his hand softly on the skin of your cheek. He was smitten.
“I would,” he exhaled shakily, “Never hurt you.”
You couldn’t breath. For a moment, you could only focus on his words through the echoes of your ears.
“I’m scared,” your voice quiet.
George Weasley clenched his jaw, a hurt in his own chest at the mere thought of you being scared of the relationship between you two, being scared of him. The pad of his stroking thumb sent shivers of comfort down your spine. You had, never in your young life, felt as connected with someone as you had with George.
“The day I hurt you,” his voice low and serious, “is the day I no longer want to exist.”
Your eyes began to tear, overwhelmed with the love George outpoured in those simple words. And, with as much courage as you could muster, you peaked up on the ends of your toes and placed a kiss on his lips. The joy you felt feeling George’s smile against yours was indescribable. His hand on your cheek and the hand on your hip pulled you closer. It was slow. George could feel himself implode with happiness.
As you pulled away, your eyes remained closed, basking and memorizing the softness of his lips. George lovingly watched your smile and your blush and swore up and down that you would never be hurt again.
a george weasley x reader blurb wherein soft little moments like this is what makes a certain ginger power through his darkest of days.
WARNING: none !! (maybe curse words but nothing too bad)
A/N: this is for @vogueweasley‘s 1k writing challenge !! i’ve been posting a lot of angst recently so okay, let me give y’all some fluff <3 also MEL !! congratulations on 1k, im so happy for you 🥺💖
The love language of a person can easily be identified through their actions and words; it can heavily vary from their want of quality time with the person they hold dearest to themselves, receiving/making gifts and doing acts of services that show their affection, by saying words of affirmation that is sure to warm the hearts of their beloved and of course, through physical touch.
The rain was pouring outside, while dementors were surrounding Hogwarts, always alert. Fall was almost over and winter began to settle in.
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger were sitting along with Fred and George Weasley and Y/n L/n dry and warm in Gryffindor’s common room, while the logs were crackling in the fireplace.
It was an uneventful day, but the golden trio was quite thankful for that. Getting close to dying wasn’t the highlight of their year.
“So Ron, would you rather” Harry started, taking a bite of the red licorice in his hands “swim in a pool filled with sweat or in a pool filled with pee?”
“Is it my pee?” Ron asked in thought , sitting back in to the armchair.
“what does it matter?” (Y/n) queried confused “it’s still pee” she chuckled in slight disgust. Ron laughed, nodding his head in agreement.
“Pee, I guess. It wouldn’t smell as bad as sweat, I think”
“You know, urine though is sterile the moment it comes out of the bladder, it attracts germs like a magnet.” Hermione stated “So actually , your best choice would be sweat.”
“Right.” muttered in annoyance. “Anyway, George, would you rather constantly have to sneeze but it never comes out or have the hiccups that last for four hours per day?”
“Well, I do hate having to sneeze and not being able to” he run his hand through his hair “so, I’ll have to have the hiccups for four hours every day!”
George turned his gaze to Y/n. She was sitting at the other end of the sofa. The light of the fire danced on her face, making her look absolutely beautiful. She giggled at something Fred was saying to her before her eyes fell back on him.
“ Y/n, would you rather kiss me or let a dementor kiss you?” he asked jokingly, loving the way her smile grew on her face, behind the mug she was holding.
“mmmh” she placed the mug on the small table in front of them, after taking a sip of her tea. “I’ll choose the dementor, for sure! I’ll smooch that thing real good” she laughed at George’s ‘fake’ hurt reaction.
“But you’ll die” he said in disbelief.
“That’s fine” she shrugged her shoulders “I’m ready, I had a good run!”
“So.. You’d rather die than kiss me..” George concluded, trying to clarify what she was actually saying, ignoring the laughing of his brothers and friends. But her smile and the slight blush of her cheeks was saying something else, George could only read it as embarrassment.
But George was blind, as was Y/n.
“Yes, exactly.” she said in affirmation while she couldn’t control her laughter. Besides being kinda hurt by her rejection, George was so proud of himself for making her laugh. He always was.
“You’re so stupid” he joked, throwing a handful of jelly beans her.
“Okay. So, Freddie, would you rather…"she started, chewing on a jelly bean that had landed on her sweater.
_
Y/n was sitting on the couch, doing her herbology homework. The sweater with her initial Molly Weasley had made for her kept her warm from the chill that sipped through the stone walls of the castle, as winter was officially here.
The common room was fairly empty, only a few students were there, most of them were doing their homework in the library.
Y/n preferred doing her homework in the common room, cause she enjoyed the calm and quite of the room during study hours.
But the calm and quiet were ruined by two identical gingers, when they walked through the open painting door into the room, joking among themselves.
"L/n” Fred called her name, as he sat beside her on the couch.
“Are you finished with Snape’s homework?” George asked, leaning over the couch, by her shoulder.
“Yes, I am” she said, not paying them much attention, she knew their antics oh-too well.
“Can we take a look?” Fred asked nudging her shoulder.
“and why do you want to take a look, boys?” Y/n raised an accusing eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her pink lips.
“To check if your answers are correct.” George answered matter-of-factly. Always the diplomat between the two. “Of course”
“And here I thought you wanted to copy of me” she closed her herbology book.
“What?” the twins said in unison, in fake shock. “We would never!”
“I’m so sorry, I misjudged you guys” she apologized, trying to keep from laughing “please, be my guest” she gestured at the dark red notebook that was sitting on the table.
“It’s fine. Just don’t let it happen again.” Fred sighed in exasperation, grabbing her notebook.
“You guys are dorks, you know that right?” she laughed.
“But you love us!” Fred gave her a kiss on the side of her head, before flipping through the pages of her notes.
“That I do” she admitted softly , turning to look at George over her shoulder, but he was already looking at her with a sweet smile.
She patted the seat next to her, before helping him with his potions homework.
_
Christmas was in a few days and most of the students were getting ready to go home for the holidays.
Y/n rushed from the outer grounds to the hallways, trying to get away from the cold and the snow as soon as possible, when she walked into George.
“Hey, I was just looking for you” he said happy to see her, he was holding a letter, probably heading to the west tower.
“How can I help you?” she asked, looking up at him as he was significantly taller. She noticed his blue eyes were brighter today, if that was truly possible.
“Are you still coming to the Burrow for Christmas?”
“Does the invitation still stand?”
“Of course it does!” he assured her “we’d love to have you. We always do”
She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. She had snowflakes stuck in her hair, the white scenery behind her made her look angelic. He was at a loss for words.
“Then I’ll be there!” she said, thankfully breaking him from his daze.
“Great!” it was his turn to grace her with his smile, they stood for a few seconds staring at each other.
“well, I should go and start packing” she muttered, pointing to the direction she was to head to.
“And I should go send this to my parents” he said gesturing to the small envelop in his hand. “I’ll see you later, then.” he waved, watching her walk away. He really wanted that girl to be his.
A million thoughts were running in his head, when he grabbed his wand from his back pocket. He whispered the small charm, watching a mistletoe bloom above Y/n’s head.
“ Uh, Y/n?!” the girl turned to the sound of her name, to see George pointing to the ceiling. She raised an eyebrow, amused.
“would you look at that!” she buried her hands in her warm pockets. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t here a second ago.” she said, staring at him with a smile.
“And it’s just us two.” George stated, looking around, searching for any students. “So I guess I have to kiss you” he said, stepping closer to the girl.
“George, if you wanted to kiss me, you should have just asked” she looked up at him once again, as he stood under the mistletoe with her.
“I couldn’t just leave you hear alone now, could I?”
“You don’t have to do it. I’m pretty sure I can find a dementor around here, maybe I can get Harry, they seem to really lik-” she was cut off by George cupping her cheeks and kissing her. She froze for a moment.
Her hands ran up his shoulders and wrapped around his neck, as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him back just as softly as he was. He was holding her as if she was made of the finest China, as if the slightest pressure would break her.
She was warm underneath his fingertips, a nice contrast to the freezing cold around them. They pulled away after a moment, only slightly, their foreheads against each other’s.
“You know” she breathed “I’d still take the dementor”
“You are unbelievable!” he laughed, pulling away from her, before she grabbed his scarf and pulled him in for another kiss.
you turned to your boyfriend who was leaning against the counter to read over a recipe.
“george we’re making christmas cookies, not potions. what don’t you understand?”
“i don’t know. it just doesn’t make any sense. what does baking soda even do?” george questioned. you let out a light laugh. “it’s so the cookies can be fluffy and not rock hard.”
