CW: Kissing, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking.
Others: Not proof read, no use of y/n, Ravenclaw!Prefect!reader, fem!reader, kind of in denial George.
Summary: Your obvious crush on George doesn't go unnoticed by him, but does he reciprocate said feelings?
A/N: Request by @casserole-from-dads-asserole!I really enjoyed writing this fic, so I hope you will too. Also, we deviate from the canon here as Quidditch season is still going despite the Triwizard Tournament, so please keep that in mind. This took longer than I expected so sorry for that.
Fred and George walked down the endless hallways of the castle, swiftly making their way to their dorms amongst the shadows that the moon cast over them through the windows. The air was freezing and Filch was out there, probably looking for them, but their steps remained measured and calm despite the thrill that sneaking out and their latest prank had given them
“Can’t believe she let us go just like that.” Fred mused, relatively relaxed as he held his arms behind his head carelessly. “I was sure she’d snitch us to Snape when she saw us and gave us that stare.”
“Yeah…” George agreed, but his mind was elsewhere. For someone who was constantly taking points from the houses like candy, you had seemed exceptionally nice that night. He was half expecting you to torture them with your death stare and give them life-long detention, but instead, you had smiled and let them go on the condition of going straight to their dorms. What was even stranger was the way your gaze had shifted when you realized it was them. George noticed things, and this wasn’t the exception. The way your eyelids had dropped slightly, the small, barely contained smile that had clearly formed on your face against your will, and your usual stern tone, which, as firm as it had remained being, carried an unusual tone of kindness or perhaps even playfulness hidden underneath that made George doubt this was a common behaviour of yours.
The two brothers silently entered the now empty common room, and made their way up the stairs and into their dorm without so much as the sound of footsteps audible. As Fred settled into bed, George checked the Marauders Map one last time, suddenly quite curious of your location. Perhaps it would give him the answers he was looking for. Instead, he saw your footsteps rapidly approaching the Grand Staircase and entering the Ravenclaw Tower. His eyes narrowed, but a resigned sigh left him and he closed the map, disposed to sleep.
Upon entering your dorm, you leaned back against the white wooden door, letting out a heavy, rather smitten sigh, holding your hands close to your chest—you could feel your heart pounding against it mercilessly. Your entrance, quite disorderly for your usual manners, had woken up your friend and roommate Jacinta, who groaned audibly and rolled into a sitting position on the higher bunk bed she slept in.
“You’re back early.” Jacinta noted with a yawn as she rubbed the tiredness from her eyes with her fists.
“Jaci,” A wide, rare grin made its way onto your lips, which elicited an excited gasp from the ebony-haired girl. “It was them.” You drew closer to the bunk and climbed up onto Jacinta’s bed to sit with her.
“Did you ask him out?” She wiggled her brows, making space for you on the bed.
“Shh, I’m getting there.” A small giggle left your lips. “He looked a little surprised when I let them go, but I think I made a good impression. I hope I did, at least.”
“That’s good.” Your friend agreed, nodding along as she spoke. “Did he flirt? That pair is known for that, aren’t they…”
“He didn’t really speak much.” You made a face. The slight disappointment wasn’t going to get to you, though, and you shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe he’s intimidated?”
“You still can’t get past what Davis said, can you…” Jacinta shook her head, letting out an almost disappointed sigh.
“How else was I supposed to take that?” You complained. “I’m not scary, am I?”
“I mean… maybe you could be a little less… strict. It’s not a bad thing, just makes it harder for you to seem… approachable.”
You sighed and hopped down the short stairs, landing as quietly as you could on the wooden floor. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I think you’re doing a great job though.” It sounded more like a question than an affirmation, but you returned the awkward smile and wished Jacinta a good night and got ready for bed. By the time you turned off the small light by your window, you could already hear her soft snores coming from above you. You smiled slightly to yourself and set your book down before pulling the blankets over you and closing your eyes. It wasn’t long before you had dozed off into a deep slumber.
The next day was as lively as ever. Students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang mingled together in the Great Hall and engaged in eager conversations. The sweet aroma of Pumpkin Juice filled the air, owls swept in with mail, and the tables filled with students. You and Jacinta made your way to the Ravenclaw table, ready to claim your usual spot, a thick book tucked under your arms and an almost hairless cat cradled in Jacinta’s.
“Excuse me.” You muttered in an emotionless tone as you stared at the first-year who was sitting on the bench. They quickly scrambled away to make some space for you two, stuttering unnecessary apologies. As soon as you realized what the look on their face meant, you noticed your furrowed brows. You instantly eased your frown and showed the kid the kindest smile you could muster in the moment. “Thank you.” Your tone sounded too forced for your liking, but you figured it would do. Jacinta snickered by your side and sat next to you with Celeste, her cat, on her lap.
Failing to find the Weasley brothers in the ocean of red-clad students sitting in the Gryffindor table, you shifted your gaze to the imposing doors of the Great Hall, eyes narrowed as they fished for the gingers in the crowd. They didn’t go unnoticed by anyone when they entered, loud as always, and your face was already going numb due to the idiotic smile that formed on your face when you saw him. George Weasley.
You weren’t quite sure how it started, really. You knew of their existence—the twins—of course you did. It was impossible not to. But somehow you had managed to never cross paths with them until the beginning of this year. You remember it clearly: how you had to drag George out of a fight with his own brother after an aging potion went wrong; the faint scent of cinnamon, gunpowder and sweat that lingered around him, the effort it took you to carry his tall frame away. He had been fairly quiet, odd as that was for him, when you had to speak with them both about the incident. From then on, your encounters became slightly more frequent. You would find them charming a third-year’s hair into being alive and rat them out, you would occasionally be paired with George for a project, as you had found out you shared Divination with him—a class you would later learn that the twins had joined out of sheer and deepest belief in said practices, as opposed to other similar subjects—and you would somehow inevitably bump into them in every Yule Ball practice session. It was odd, how quickly you had grown fond of George from afar, considering the last crush you had had had probably lasted no more than a month and had been around your second year in Hogwarts.
You started noticing things. How he would comfort kids when a joke wasn’t nice, how he would flirt like his brother did but in a much more appropriate tone. You supposed his underlying kindness was what drew you in. Then were his dashing looks, which you were sure he and everyone in Hogwarts was aware of. His silky, now long ginger hair, his tall frame, his undeniable strength from playing as a Beater in Quidditch, the freckles that dusted his whole skin and highlighted the sparkle in his beautiful eyes the rush of adrenaline a prank would give him. You were sure you were absolutely screwed by this point, with how much you liked him given the few instances you would actually hold a conversation with him.
By this point you weren’t the least bit ashamed of your crush on George Weasley. You figured, if you couldn’t get him now, you wouldn’t get him ever.
As the duo walked past you on their way to the Gryffindor table, George conveniently on the left and at your reach, you took your chance to wrap your fingers gently around his wrist. “Good morning.” You put on the warmest smile you were able to gather and looked up at him. Both brothers stopped at the same time and looked at you, ready to speak until you did first. “Did you two get back safely to your dormitories last night?”
“Why, yes, we did, beautiful.” Fred cut in before George could, grinning, as per usual. Your disappointment didn’t inherently mean you were at all surprised by this.
“We went straight to them.” George finally smiled, not pulling his hand from your relatively loose grasp. “Worried we would break our promise?” There it was. That spark of playfulness that flooded his tone whenever he would speak. You figured this reaction was a good sign. Maybe he didn’t actually think of you as intimidating.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Fred added, once more interrupting your little moment with George. You knew he didn’t mean to, but Merlin, did you wish you could put a silencing charm on him and for once only listen to George’s angelical voice. You tried not to glare too hard.
“Just making sure.” You figured now was your chance, and you smiled once more. “Be careful next time, yes?” You could see George’s eyebrows lift and his grin fall as he felt your thumb rub his wrist oh so gently. “But call me if you ever need out of detention, George.”
“Oh, uh.” He seemed confused at your change of tone. You couldn’t be bothered to notice Fred’s lifted brow, and instead focused on the puzzled expression on George’s face and the faint flush that formed on his cheeks. “Sure, will do.”
“Enjoy your breakfast.” You tried your best to wink, and let go of him. He chuckled awkwardly before leaving with his brother, who made sure to call after him as they both walked away.
“Have a nice day, ladies!”
An embarrassed squeal left your lips as you buried your face into your hands, cheeks burning. “That was awful.”
“It was alright!” Jacinta laughed. “I’m sure I saw him smile. He’s just not used to you being all sweet, so give it some time.”
You groaned and averted your gaze, exhaling deeply through your nose. “I suppose you’re right. Still, though.”
At the other side of the Great Hall, Fred and George took their seats amongst an enormous group of other sixth-years at the Gryffindor table. Fred greeted everyone back individually, making a show of it and lacing his words with little jokes or compliments as he went. George, on the other side, simply waved a general greeting and took a seat. He was still thinking about last night. When Fred sat down, his tone changed.
“Mate, did you see how she was glaring at me? I swear she hates me.” He whispered lowly as he served himself a full plate of every pastry on the table.
“If she did, she wouldn’t have let us go like she did last night. Don’t think too much about it.” George rolled his eyes and took a sip of his Pumpkin Juice.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it.” Fred quipped back. “If looks could kill, hers would. She’s ruthless. And last night? She acted like the sweetest little angel. Don’t get me started on just now. Something’s definitely up.”
“Fine, I’ve thought about it. But, you know, maybe she just gave up on us? That’s usually the reason anyone lets us go without punishment.”
“She was looking at you like you hung the moon, mate.” Fred scoffed.
George blinked. “You’re suggesting…?”
“I think she fancies you.” His brother nodded, stuffing his mouth with food. Then, a wide, shameless grin drew across his face. “Imagine you with the strict prefect. Nice couple, eh?”
“Shut up, she does not.” George rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she hates everyone.”
“She clearly doesn’t hate you though. Look at her.” Both brothers looked across the Hall, and saw you and your friend staring their way as well. Fred waved with a smirk, and you quickly turned back to your food. “Heh.” Fred then made a vague gesture with his fork. “Imagine the possibilities! We could get away with anything.”
“I’m not sure I like where this is going.” George huffed. “I know what your plan is.”
Fred laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you don’t want to jump to conclusions or hurt her feelings.” He leaned back then. “Don’t worry, I don’t want anyone else with an eye on us. Filch’s already enough.”
George sighed and nodded. “I’ll see how this plays out.”
After breakfast, Fred and George walked as quickly as they could to the Gryffindor common room. “Balderdash.” Fred almost shouted at the Fat Lady at the door, slightly out of breath from running up the stairs.
“Such manners.” The Fat Lady scoffed, but let the brothers in regardless. They were in a rush; them and Lee had been planning the biggest Gryffindor party yet and it was planned for the upcoming weekend, so they had to be quick if they wanted to have everything done by Saturday, when the first Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match would take place. If they won, fireworks would be in order, which would need meticulous preparation for a perfect execution and evasion of the obvious detention they would get after.
“Lee,” George panted as they stumbled into the common room, immediately spotting thor friend sitting on the couch. “Have you got the food?”
“It’s all under the beds.” Lee nodded, gathering his playing cards from the table and putting them back in their packaging.
“Good.” Fred smiled and plopped down on the couch, when he saw George sneak away and towards the stairs. “Hey, where are you going? We still need to plan the fireworks.”
“I’ll be down in a minute.” George muttered and left without another word.
Lee’s and Fred’s eyes followed him until he disappeared from their line of sight. Lee lifted a brow and turned to look at Fred. “What’s gotten into him?”
“We believe that Ravenclaw prefect likes him. You know, ice queen?” Fred chuckled, his arm draped over the back of the couch like he owned the place.
“You mean Silverstone?” Lee’s eyebrows shot up, and he hummed. “I thought she just hated everyone but that Jacinta girl.” He looked around before leaning in. “Did he spike her drink with Amortentia?”
“I would know if he did, believe me.” Fred rolled his eyes. “But yeah, she’s been a proper sweetheart around him. She was the one who let us go without punishment last night.”
“Hmm.” Lee nodded. “Reckon he fancies her back?”
“He would’ve told me so if he did, of course not.” Fred shrugged. “Besides, he usually goes for the shy ones…”
“True, true.” Lee agreed and leaned back. “Well, might as well get back to work while he does whatever up there.”
Upstairs, George paced around the dorm. It was impossible for you to like him. Silverstone into a Weasley? Never. However, there was that lingering feeling in his gut that said maybe… maybe you do fancy him. It wasn’t the fact that he thought anything bad of you that held him back, but perhaps what the thought of you actually liking him that much made him feel. It was common for girls and boys alike to practically swoon for the brothers, what with their charm and looks, but the attention was more often than not focused on Fred—the louder, flirtier, more extravagant twin. George, on the other side, albeit still a prankster and outgoing, was noticeably the more quiet one of the two. Calculating, kind and slightly more reserved when it came to both pranks and relationships, George wasn’t exactly the first Weasley people thought of when they thought ‘twins’. And despite all of this, you seemed not only quite keen on him and him alone, but also unashamed to show your supposed attraction towards him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like the special treatment; in fact, he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. George couldn’t help but remember the feeling of your thumb rubbing the skin on his thin wrist, how the gesture had shot an unexplainable warmth up his arm that simultaneously blossomed from deep within his chest and spread across his body, its effect visible on the light blush that had then washed over his features. He hadn’t meant to act awkward, but the unexpected treatment had had said effect on him.
“Merlin…” George finally mumbled to himself as he ran a hand through his long ginger hair, finally halting in his incessant pacing and rushing down the stairs, where he found Lee and Fred still sitting on the couch in the common room. “Fred, Lee—”
“Woah, what’s up?” Lee lifted a brow.
“We need to get Silverstone to go to the party.” He panted, a determined look on his face.
“That’s gonna be a hard one.” Lee hummed.
“Is there a reason for this?” Fred lifted a brow.
“Just— it’s important.” George nodded. Lee and Fred shared a look before shrugging.
Fred and Lee, always by his side, had been harder to spot next to him and you would find George wandering alone more often than usual, which was quite uncommon, as the trio would usually be surrounded by a big group. Of course, by the third time you saw George walking alone down the main corridor, you couldn’t miss your opportunity. As soon as you finished taking ten points from a Hufflepuff boy for messing with a group of Slytherin girls, you made a beeline in George’s direction.
The ginger boy noticed you first as you approached with an almost eager grin on your face. “Good afternoon, George.” You were quick to take place next to him, and walked as fast as you could without jogging to keep up with his strides. He seemed to notice this, and slowed down, which you were extremely grateful for. “Looking good today. Where are you headed, if I may know? Not to be nosey or anything, but I was just wondering what you might be—”
A small chuckle left George at your over-explanation, and he responded before you could spend an eternity explaining and justifying your question. “I’m going to the library. And thank you, you look stunning yourself.”
You couldn’t help but smile and gnaw on your bottom lip slightly, letting out a content little giggle. “Thank you.” You leaned into his side. “I didn’t know you read. What do you like to read?” You batted your lashes, both hands wrapping around his arm as you two walked. You could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly, and his muscle tensed ever-so-slightly.
“I’m not going there to read, exactly…” He looked at you and tilted his head as you batted your eyelashes at him. “If I tell you, will you snitch on me?”
“You know I won't, handsome.” You hummed, rubbing his arm. He gulped once more.
“Okay.” He nodded, and you both stopped outside of the library. “We’re hosting a party this Saturday, and I’m meeting up with somebody who will give us firewhisky.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “You’re invited. And yes, I know we’re not supposed to drink. Blame Fred and Lee.”
“Of course it was him.” You muttered, before turning back up to him. “You won’t drink though, right?”
“Hmm…” George simply looked around and pulled away from your arm. “I won’t.”
You smiled. “Good.” You followed him towards the back of the library, where a Durmstrang student waited with three bottles of firewhisky in his hands. You waited, an uneasy feeling in the back of your mind as you watched George return with the alcohol. “George?” You called his name as you walked back.
“If I see you drinking I’m ratting you all out anyways.” You weren’t even able to muster your usual stern frown around him at this point.
George let out a sigh and pulled away. “Fine.”
You glanced to your side, and were quick to notice two students skipping class. You sighed and gave George a smile. “This is my stop.” You kissed his cheek and swiftly walked away, leaving the boy flustered and confused in the hallway.
“Well.” Fred hummed as he appeared from behind the pillar next to George. “That went surprisingly well. Think she’s coming to the party?”
George nodded softly, gaze fixed on where you had been just a second ago, his hand against his cheek. “She is.”
“You’re staring again.” Jacinta giggled as you two ate in the Great Hall, this time facing the twins. Fred was engaging in lively conversation as usual, but George and you seemed to have a staring contest going on. You weren’t able to tear your gaze away when he caught your eyes on him, and, for the past eight seconds, you hadn’t looked away from each other.
“I know.” You smiled at George and waved at him, at which he waved before quickly averting his gaze and focusing back on his food. You sighed and rested your chin on your palm. “Do you think he already has a date for the Yule Ball?”
“What I think is that you should ask him before he does or you’ll be mourning the rest of the school year and possibly as long as you like him.” Jacinta mused as she shoved a spoonful of porridge into her mouth, her free hand gently petting Celeste’s head.
“I will.” You huffed. “Just give me a day or two.”
After Transfiguration, you gathered your belongings and kept them in your bag before standing up and pulling your chair in. George was snoring, head tilted back and arms crossed over his chest as he slept at the back of the classroom. A small, amused huff of air left you—he wasn’t even attempting to be subtle. You approached and gently tapped his shoulder. He jolted awake and looked around frantically for a brief moment before his eyes landed on you.
“Oh.” A tired smirk made the corners of his lips twitch upwards as he stretched. “Need something?”
“I think you do.” You laughed, gently chewing on your bottom lip. “Here.” You placed a copy of your notes down on the desk in front of him. “You slept the whole class. Thought you’d need this.”
George blinked, a confused smile on his face. “Why, thank you.”
“You stayed up last night, didn’t you?” He watched as you moved to stand behind him, and your hands posed on his shoulders.
“Is that important?” He tilted his head back to look at you. “I was working on something.”
“You must be tired, is all.” The sudden pressure on his stiff muscles elicited a small, content noise from George, whose eyelids fell slightly, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape.
“Does every tired bloke get this treatment?” He hummed as you massaged his shoulders. “Because if so, I might just stay up every night.”
“Don’t be silly. Only you do.” That made his eyes open and look up at you. It was a new, exciting feeling, to have someone reserve this much attention to him alone. The warmth spread across his body, and he suddenly felt useless under your touch. The way you acted around him was making him feel fuzzy inside, making him a loss of words for once. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t quite know what to say. He loved the gestures, of course. The last week had been excellent in that sense. But whenever you acted like this, all jokes would leave his brain and be replaced with a slight shyness at the thought of being taken care of like no one besides his mother had before.
“Oi, are you coming?” Fred pressed from the door, his eyebrow lifted impatiently. You gave him a slight glare, at which he grinned.
“In a minute!” George groaned, standing and messily gathering his things before stuffing them in his own bag. “Thanks for the notes and the massage, princess.” He paused to grin at you.
Sensing the opportunity, you stood on your tiptoes and pecked his cheek, hand cradling the opposite side of his face. “It’s no problem, Georgie.”
“Right. Ha ha…” George rushed to his brother’s side, barely glancing back at you as you waved with a smile on your face.
Fred clapped a hand on George’s back with an obnoxiously loud laugh. “‘Georgie’? What, is she your girlfriend already?” He smirked as they walked to their next class, Herbology.
“She’s not.” George rolled his eyes as he followed Fred. “I still think she’s just given up on us. You know, so she’d save herself the trouble of, I don’t know, being a target for our pranks.”
“Are you joking?” Fred cackled. “She didn’t act like that last year.”
“... hm.” George looked away, not quite knowing how to argue at that very moment. His mind kept drifting back to the feeling of your thumbs rubbing his sore shoulder blades and the numbing smell of your floral perfume. He really liked the way you smelled, he could admit that.
“Since when are you this quiet, mate?” His brother inquired for what felt like the millionth time during the week, at which George could only groan.
“I’m just thinking, okay?”
“Just don't let all this ‘thinking’ distract you during the match tomorrow.” He said. “We have to win.”
Saturday morning came around quickly, and every student took their places in their respective house’s stands. The cheering was loud, the breeze was strong, and the fog promised disaster. Yet, everyone remained at the edge of their seats, waiting for the game to start. Trouble bloomed in the benches, where each team captain spoke with their teams. As Wood spoke, however, George’s eyes searched for you on the stands. He couldn’t let himself be distracted again, as he had the last couple of training sessions, when you would wave, cheer, and wink at him. Just the day before he had paid too much attention to your gestures and nearly took a bludger to the head.
Higher up in the stands, you and Jacinta made your way to an empty spot in the Ravenclaw section, clad in thick, warm robes to cover you from the cold air. You adjusted your scarf, wondering how George was doing with his thin Quidditch uniform, although you were sure his body heat after some movement would prevent him from catching a cold. The usual frown remained on your face as you watched from the stands, waiting for the players to take their places and for the game to start.
Jacinta chewed on some mysterious sweet as she spoke. “Think they’re gonna win? Gryffindor, I mean.” She eyed you lazily as you kept your eyes on the pitch.
“I hope they do.” You mumbled in a pensive tone.
“Hm.” Jacinta hummed. “You don’t really attend parties… Are you sure you want to go?”
“George will be there.” You whispered sheepishly. “Besides, I promised I would keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t drink.”
“You care for him, we get it.” Jacinta laughed softly, offering you a nougat. You accepted the sweet and lazily munched on it as you waited for the game to start.
As soon as you spotted George raising in the air on his broom, your face lit up. You could hear Jacinta snort, but you didn’t pay any mind to her; something else had your attention now. You searched his eyes, and when he caught yours, you waved excitedly. You thought the way he waved back with his free hand was adorable. Even from afar, you thought George looked fantastic, more so with his Quidditch robes on. You wished you could fly there and hug him, make sure he was warm, and comfy, and—
The sound of the whistle going off cut your running thoughts off, and you disposed yourself to watch the game instead. The players slashed through the cold wind, dashing from side to side with expertise. Your eyes remained on George, although it was a little harder to tell him apart from his twin when they both moved so fast. It didn’t take long for the Gryffindor team to score their first goal at the hands of Angelina Johnson, who came tearing down through the air and tossed the Quaffle through the loop expertly. Fred and George, racing at the other side of the pitch, alternated passing a Bludger between them, the impact of the ball against their Beater bats resounding throughout the whole area loudly. They then redirected the Bludger to speed down the way of the Slytherin Seeker, who was attempting to pass Harry and catch the Snitch. Distracted, he drifted away from the Harry, who took his chance to extend his arm and—
“Gryffindor wins! The Snitch had been caught!” Lee Jordan shouted, adding a hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor. The cheers are loud and numbing, but despite them drowning out your own, you kept screaming George’s name like you never had cheered before. The moment you saw the players lower to the ground, you dashed down the stands and rushed in the ginger’s direction.
“I’m telling you, it’s the fastest we’ve ever—” Fred trailed off when he saw you running towards him and George, and peeked over his brother’s shoulder, a devilish smirk forming on his face. “Seems like Miss Head Girl wants to congratulate you, little brother.” He hummed, watching George turn his head. “I’ll see you at the party.”
“George!” You smiled as you bunched up your robes to run more easily. “You did amazing!” You practically shouted as you threw yourself into George’s arms, lunging forward and earning a harsh huff of air from him.
“We did win, didn’t we?” George laughed slightly, peeling himself from you. “Are you coming to the party tonight?”
“I promised I would.” You kept your hands over his shoulders, contemplating kissing him right then and there. Instead, you stepped back and smiled. “I’ll see you there.”
He smiled, and nodded. “See you.”
As you walked away, you blew a kiss at George, who, after a few seconds, pretended to catch it and place it on his chest. The giddiness you felt inside followed you as you made your way towards Jacinta, who waited for you at the exit. You would take your sweet time getting ready.
“It’s so loud in here!” Jacinta yelled over the music as you covered your ears with both hands, already uncomfortable with the constant noise. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Don’t worry about me!” You replied, nodding before wandering away from her, squeezing through the sweaty crowd and standing on the tips of your toes to try and find a familiar head of long, ginger hair.
Your senses were flooded and completely overwhelmed—the music rumbled violently in your ears, the heavy air, filled with the smell of sweat and spilled drinks, numbed your nose, and the colorful lights flashing around you made it almost impossible to see through the sea of people that took over any possible corner of the Gryffindor common room. This was exactly one of the main reasons you didn’t attend parties; that, and your role as prefect. You walked, not really noticing the way students around you let you move at the sight of your badge and deep-set frown. As you slid between bodies towards the back of the common room, a strong grip on your wrist stopped you. When you turned around, you saw George emerging from the group of people behind you, his hand around your wrist.
“George.” Something in your face changed; you could physically feel the tension on your face ease instantly. “Wait, come here.”
“Silverstone, I didn’t think you’d…” He trailed off when you placed both hands on his face and pulled him down slightly. “... come. What are you doing?”
“Let me smell your breath.” You murmured, bringing him down to your level. As confused as he looked, George blew softly on your face regardless, letting you take a whiff. “Good.” You pulled back after confirming he hadn’t been drinking. A soft smile made its way onto your face, and you laced your fingers with his.
“Thought I’d break my promise?” George chuckled, squeezing your hand after a few seconds of skepticism. “You need to start trusting me more.”
“Hard to do so, Georgie.” There it was. The nickname again. All his life, the only person to ever call him by that name had been his brother Fred. And yet, despite the rareness of it, the way you called him Georgie felt right. It felt… different when you said it. Like you wanted him to feel seen, to feel as loved as Fred probably felt with the attention he got. George wasn’t exactly jealous of that fact, but it was certainly nice to experience said feelings. He let himself be tugged out of the crowd with you.
You and George were about to reach the snacks table when Fred and Lee intercepted you, both of them wearing wide grins on their faces. “Well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Perfect.” Fred hummed, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your soft, comfortable smile dissolved into a scowl. “Don’t look at me like that, we’ve got a proposition for you.”
“I’ve got no time for that—”
“Does it involve explosions?” A grin drew over George’s features, and he squeezed your hand tighter. You sighed. As much as you would’ve loved to pass, you knew George’s curiosity would lead him into whatever plan Fred and Lee had, and you weren’t about to miss the whole night without the same person you had come for.
“Oh, much better.” Lee insisted, leading you both towards a circle in the back of the common room. You grimaced with the bad feeling in your gut, but you dismissed it. “We’re playing with Veritaserum.”
“Oh, wonderful.” You grumbled under your breath, but George was already beaming.
“Count me in.” Then, the ginger turned to look at you, gaze expectant as if he was hoping you would join. “Silverstone?”
Unable to hold in a smile at George’s sparkling eyes, you nodded. “Just this once.”
“Great.” Fred patted your back a bit too harshly and gestured for you and George to sit down. You both sat down next to each other, and Lee and Fred sat on either side of you. A slight ounce of disappointment took over your features when you felt George’s hand slip from yours.
The circle was made of around eight other people, all of them holding an empty shot glass in their hand. Fred handed you an identical glass as you eyed the bottle sitting in the middle of the circle suspiciously. “I don’t like this.” You murmured to George, leaning into his side so that only he would be able to hear you (although the loud music and constant chatter made it almost impossible to hear anything at all).
“You’re not breaking any important rules.” George mused back, smiling in an almost comforting manner. You beamed lightly, a slight flush shading the apples of your cheeks.
“You better not tell anyone.”
“Alright, everyone!” Fred announced, clinking his small glass with his wand to call the attention of everyone in the circle. “You know the rules. Bottle lands, you get a dare and a question, and drink Veritaserum. I will go first.”
With a flick of Fred’s wand, the bottle of the Veritaserum spinner on the floor. Everyone’s expectant gazes followed the tip of the bottle as it came to a stop, landing on you. The colour drained from your face, and the small smile that has been harvesting within your little interaction with George immediately vanished. “Pass.”
“Nuh uh, you can’t pass.” Fred smirked, already snatching your glass from your grip and filling it to the brim with Veritaserum. You gulped. “Just down it in one go, the rest will be a piece of candy.”
“I dare you to…” He continued before you could complain, and shared a look with Lee and George before finishing his sentence. “Kiss the most good-looking person in this circle. Now go on, drink.”
Your frown eased, and an uncharacteristic smirk formed on your lips. “Like I need a truth potion for that.” The opportunity had been laid for you and presented on a platter, so why waste it? Turning to your side, you fisted your hands around the collar of George’s jumper and pulled him into you. A strangled gasp left his parted lips when his mouth connected with yours harshly, but he quickly closed his eyes and went along with the kiss. The cheers and laughs around you blurred out for a second as you tried to drag out the moment, but George grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back gently to gasp some air into his lungs.
“You…” He blinked, his beautiful, thin lips parted as his eyes traced over you. Fred looked like he had won the lottery, which, knowing of his and Lee and George’s habit of betting over every little thing, he likely had. George backed away when you tried to reach his mouth once more, and stood up. “Just wait here.”
You had a feeling no one in the circle would miss you much, so you followed George outside while his brother laughed. “Georgie.” You reached for his arm, and he turned to you, panting slightly.
“You do think so.” George acknowledged, finally. “You do like me.” It wasn’t a question.
A giggle left you before you could hold it in. “Did I really have to kiss you for you to realize that?”
“I didn’t think someone would like me separately from liking Fred.” He averted his eyes. Clearly, being vulnerable didn’t come as naturally to him. “Or that someone like you would feel anything but hatred towards me.”
“Now, where did you get that from?” The look he gave you made you both laugh lightheartedly.
After the small moment of laughter died down, George looked into your eyes and smiled. “Godric, I think I love you.”
“Bad idea,” You mused, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Loving a prefect as such a troublemaker.”
“Bad idea,” George mimicked, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “Loving the troublemaker you were supposed to give detention to.”
You stole a peck from his lips before pulling back. “Go back in. I don’t want them to think we’re still snogging.”
“Would that really be an issue?” George hummed as he approached the entrance to the common room.
You simply chuckled. “See you by the Black Lake next Tuesday at six. Don’t be late.” Your hand left his. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” George murmured before going back to the party.
It was in fact a bad idea.