TheStoryComesAlive

[thestorycomesalive]

I Wish I Was

Din x Reader

Based on the song by the Avett Brothers

SUMMARY: While living on the Razor Crest with Din, he finds even your most simple acts to be the complete perfect declarations of his love for you.

Din was always pretty quiet. Before you and Grogu came along, there was never any need for him to voice his thoughts or actions. He would simply just do. Do whatever he thought he needed to, letting the silence seep into every crevice of the Razor Crest, until the inside of the ship itself became naturally soundless. The only sounds echoing off Din’s helmet came from outside the ship. The engine and the hum of hyperspace.

That was until you came along. If Din gathered anything, it was that you were much more willing to talk and fill his noiseless space with sounds of your own. The idea once annoyed him. But now, rather, he finds himself searching out for the small sounds you made. Whether from your own voice, the blabbers of the child, or the signals of either of your simple, daily actions. The sounds became a comfort. Where he once craved being alone, in his silence, he now craved the reminder that he wasn’t. He craved the everyday knowledge that the sounds that came from you or Grogu gave him. They were the sounds that reminded him that you were near. Although, he would never admit this to himself… and especially never to you. He told himself he sought out these sounds simply to ensure neither you nor the child were getting into trouble. But every great once in a while, he found his mind trailing down a path he often labored so hard to keep it from.

...............................................

He wasn’t sure precisely when it started. But he became familiar with the tug he felt when his heart pulled his ears and his mind towards the sound of your existence. The very first time he noticed it, was a night that Din sat, resting in his pilot’s chair of the Crest, staring out at the quickly fading streams of light that were tied to hyperspace. The lights had blown on the Crest, earlier that day, leaving the ship pretty dark and hallow. Din had mumbled out, alerting you that he would find the right repairs on Nevarro when you landed. For now, you and Grogu had spent most of the day searching the ship for any source of light. You kept Grogu latched to your hip, so not to lose the small green baby. He had a streak of curiosity, and you knew the moment you let him out of your sight, it would be a riot finding him once more. So there he sat, attached to your hip, as you distracted him, turning your search into a small scavenger hunt for the doe-eyed baby. Din had heard the muffled sounds of you opening doors and cabinets from the cockpit all day. He had sworn to himself that your mission was going to be fruitless, considering he had never found any reason for flashlights or candles since his helmet provided all of the visibility he needed. That was until he heard the shuffling stop and the creak of the ladder to the cockpit start.

He didn’t turn to look at you when your footsteps stopped next to his chair. Instead, he knew that if you had something you needed from him, you would undoubtedly voice your concerns aloud. But you stepped in front of the line of view, next to his chair, the child on your hip, and a small lantern with a tiny flame in it, held in your other hand. This did catch his attention. He was surprised that your search had been successful, but he was even more surprised that he did not recognize the small lantern or the candle within it at all. He figured he must’ve plucked it off of a random bounty years ago, when disarming them before flushing them through the cryofreezer. He watched as you gently placed the lantern next to him on the dashboard, ensuring the lid was on safely, once more. He bit back a small smile under his helmet, recognizing your anxious tendencies as you ensured the flame would stay within the small lantern under any circumstances. Once it was settled in front of him, you took the child and moved to your passenger’s chair, placing Grogu happily on your lap, as your arms wrapped around him. Once you were seated, you simply turned your chair towards Din’s as you routinely did, with a soft smile gracing your face as you studied his T-shaped visor. He watched the flame dancing being the tiny glass shields with curiosity, his attention breaking from it when you started.

“I know you have your helmet, but I thought we could share it anyway…”

He turned to look at you, taking in the sight of you and the baby bouncing on your lap. Your gaze held his, the soft smile lingering. Once you felt his eyes on you, you felt all confidence drain from your body, your eyes faltering to the side, studying the carved, plated glass that held the small flame. He tilted his head slightly. You hadn’t always done that. In fact, you had been so bold, so outgoing when he met you. It wasn’t until recently that your gaze would falter after meeting his. And it was more often than not. He began to wonder if he made you uncomfortable. He knew you weren’t scared of him, although he thought you likely should be. Or perhaps you truly just were so entranced by the beauty of the small trinket, that your gaze had been true and purposeful, though, deep down, he knew you better than that. So his eyes lingered as he contemplated where your possible sudden timidness had originated from. After a second, his eyes shifted back to the candle. And as you three sat in the warm glow, he too let his eyes study the small trinket. Not the glass, nor the candle. But rather, the flame itself.

He let his thoughts take over once more, as the sounds of the crackling whisp filled the air. With you so close to him, under the warm, romantic glow of a single, small fire, he couldn’t help but feel his brain take him away to that place that he so desperately kept himself from. He couldn’t help but find beauty in the small fire… but what truly tore him apart, was that the small fire made him think of you. You were much the same. A small flame, contained like this, lights up his ship, warms the pit just enough to keep them happy. But if he truly let go, let it in, and rid himself of the glass. He was sure he would burn. Consumed in the flames of you, setting him alight, burning his every being. But once he let it burn, should the flame ever go out, he was sure he would never be able to live without it again. Cold, dark, alone once more, the remnants of everything he once had, lost to the fire, obliterated… So, he would have to keep it small, confined in its beautiful cage. He would have to ensure he had just enough of the light and the warmth to not be alone, but not so much that he risks it all.

But then his thoughts shifted. Did you look at the flame and think of him too? He thought he’d prefer it if he were the flame instead. You would light him, give him your attention, as you did every day you were with him. And then one day, you would leave him, put him out, when you were done. He figured it would save him the pain. It would protect his glass walls so that he would never burn. You would give him a glimpse of a life with you, just enough to enjoy it, and allow him to return to his confinement and solitude. He figured that would be the best case for both of you. He let his mind trail to all of the times that he felt your eyes falter under his in the past weeks. He wondered if you thought this might be the best too. If one day, he might get his wish, and his candle would return the hollow of whatever cupboard you found it in, never to be plucked out again.

He pulled himself out of his trance and stole a glance at you from the corner of his visor. You were in a trance of your own, studying the flame in your own way. Your eyes concentrated, and a small, gentle, beautiful smile silked to your face. Tiny snores sounded out from where Grogu slept on your now steady lap. He turned back around, trying to push away his own smile he felt creeping up his face, like an unwanted visitor.

...............................................

The next time he recalled his thoughts taking a path towards the heart of you, he had been on a bounty for a few weeks, and he had wanted nothing more than to find his way back to the Crest and Grogu… and begrudgingly, most of all, you. But he reminded himself he just longed for the sounds echoing through the ship instead of your actual presence. The thought itself made his betrayed heart push against his chest plate with a vengeance.

He walked up the ramp of the ship, quickly tucking the bounty away in cryofreeze as he always did, away from where you would be, ensuring the safety of you and the child. His heavy, tired footsteps trudged up the small, indoor ramp to the tiny living space where his pace stalled. His breathing hitched once he heard it. It was a sweet song, echoing off the walls of the ship, a pure, melodic voice, tracing over every inch of the room. He’d know that voice anywhere. And for a moment, he thought he might head straight to the cockpit, avoiding you and your siren song all together. He wasn’t sure his walls could withstand the sweetness of your singing. But as if a hypnotized sailor, his footsteps carried him through the doorway, his mind racing with what visual he might find.

And the reality was nothing short of his fantasy. There you were, standing in a beautiful sundress, Grogu on your hip. You were swaying your body as your hair nestled around Grogu’s face, that held a toothy smile. The song came soft and sweetly from your honeyed lips, as you nestled the side of your face into the top Grogu’s head lovingly. The sight nearly brought Din to his knees. He stood there and let the syrupy sound taint his ears and fog his brain, his mind going to the place he dared not go. That sweet song. How he longed to be the words and the notes flowing from your lips. He felt a pang of envy. They were awarded the taste of you… the feel of your lips upon them, and that was something he would never have. If given the chance, he would gladly trade his life for the life of your song. He would trade his long, lonely, broken life, for the short life upon your lips, ending whenever you’d choose, at your mercy of quieting down. It was the sudden silence that pulled him from his mind, clearing his throat slightly, pulling himself back down to reality.

You stood in front of him with wide eyes, Grogu still on your hip, your movements frozen, as you breathed for a beat and that familiar gentle smile lifted those same lips he had longed to inhabit. He could hear the sound of your small exhale, your face flushing pink at having been caught.

“You’re back,” you murmured through your smile.

He just nodded his head, swallowing thickly, trying to remind himself that he cannot afford to let his mind linger on you the way it so terribly wants to.

“Yeah,” was all he was able to mutter out.

He couldn’t stop the warmth he felt when he saw your smile grow bigger.

...............................................

Din was scheduled to abandon the hearth of his home for a bounty on the cold, torturous climate of Carlac. He worried about leaving you and The Child, frightened that his absence would leave you vulnerable and weak to the frigid air around you. He knew, sensibly, the ship was heated, and you would be safe, but he could not stop his wandering mind from fearing all of the fatal possibilities. What if the ship’s heat broke while he was gone? What would he come back to? His two great loves frozen in peril, his own heart freezing once again with their deprivation. No. He wouldn’t let that happen. When you next saw him, he was digging frantically through his collection of unwanted things for anything that could keep you warm, should any impending dangerous circumstances occur in his leave. He plucked a large sweater that looked like it once belonged to a creature the size of a Bantha, and a woolen blanket, just as big. You stood, giggling at him. And that’s when his ears were hit with your sweet melodic sound.

“We’ll be fine, Din.”

He practically grunted. You were too naive. How could you be so sure? No. He wouldn’t take any chance. He couldn’t afford any chances.

“You don’t know that. Carlac is a dangerous place… Here, take these. I want you to wear it. No questions asked. The blanket is for the baby.”

He handed you the large sweater and blanket, your warm fingers brushing his gloved ones, the contrast making him shiver. Your sweet gentle hands that tended to The Child, daily. They ensured life and prosperity. His gloved hands prepped to deliver death and violence, ready to end the same things you nurtured. He watched as you took the objects, knowing better than to argue with him, sensing it would be futile. You lifted the sweater over your head, without even placing The Child down. Simply shifting Grogu in your arms, Din watched the sweater linger over your fingertips, falling tranquilly over your knees. The whole sight was much too domestic for his heart, watching as you wrapped the baby in his own blanket. Din scanned the sweater with a hum of approval. It would be suitable enough to sustain your warmth. To protect his heart’s very owner. And once again, he found himself longing to take the place of the sweater. Wishing to stay on the ship with you, to hold you, to be the one to provide you warmth and shelter, protection. He wanted to swaddle you in love and fortification forever. And although he knew, in reality, he must abandon the ship and leave you to the confines of your knitted pattern, he found himself internally promising to be your sweater, the moment your little clan left Carlac. He would surround you, guard you, always.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a pink tinge on your cheeks. Why were you blushing? Had he been staring? He was thanking his Maker that his helmet was forever glued to his face so you would have no way to guarantee. Perhaps the sweater was uncomfortable.

“Are you alright?” he worried.

You took a breath, murmuring, “Yeah, sorry. It’s perfect, thank you.”

He just nodded, hesitating. He turned to trudge, leaving awkwardly, bluntly, his thoughts filled with images of you.

Maker, he was in deep.

[thestorycomesalive]

Abstract

Remus Lupin x Reader

Based on the song Abstract (Psychopomp) by Hozier

Summary: After your death, Remus pulls himself from his grief for just a moment by recounting a distant memory of you. He recalls a specific night before a Full Moon when, upon a walk on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the two of you happen upon a dying creature.

TW: Mentions of death, blood, grief, implied suici*al thoughts (if you realllllyyyy squint, really up for debate)

******

On one particularly rainy and cold night in December, Remus felt himself jostle awake in a state of pure terror, his heart rate beating faster than the surge of rain outside. On instinct, he turned over to the right side of his bed to search for your peaceful, sleeping form. His outstretched hand was met with the bareness of sheets and silk. The feeling alone was enough to send that pit of grief straight back to the very center of his being. He felt his chest clamp down on itself and without any warning, he felt the hot rush of tears flood down his cheeks, painting his pillow with their own pattern, mirroring that of the flooded windows that stretched around the small, dark room.

            In his unyielding gasps for air, for the tiniest glimpse of relief, he found himself, with his hand on his chest, trying to bring himself back to his own mind. He listened to the trickle of the pouring rain outside and shakily closed his eyes. This seemed to be his ritual on nights like these. He searched through his memory for any image of you. It wasn’t conjuring up the image of you that was difficult for him. Remus had memorized every single detail of you. Every piece of your beautiful body, your wonderful mind, and golden soul. No, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was searching for a new memory. It was trying to escape the one that would always find its way to him, haunting him endlessly. The one that made him want to take his hands; now planted on his chest; and reach in, just to rip his own broken, tattered heart out.

            In his grief and panic, he knew he would take any glimpse of you, even this particular one, just to hear your voice again and to feel your touch for another agonizing moment. As he felt himself give in to the memory, he felt the ghost of a brush towards the pocket of his sweatpants. This was it. This memory played on repeat in his head, not matter how hard he tried to desperately search for another. This was the one that would serve, for tonight and for forever, to bring him back to you. No more pain. Just getting through. He let himself be taken away from his bed. He allowed himself to be tangled up in the image of you, your invisible hands pulling him from the dark of his lonely, hallow bedroom.

*****

            It was a particularly rainy and cold night in early December. The frost had come in earlier that day with the sunset, but with the moon nearing its fullness, neither Remus nor you had been able to sleep. You found yourself walking, mindlessly down the stairs of the Girl’s Dormitories to the warm glow and hearth of the Common Room. Of no surprise to you, you were greeted with the light auburn hair of the very boy that consumed your sleeplessness, head down in a book, on the sofa, his face lit by the orange hue of the fireplace in front of him. You smiled to yourself at the sight.

            “Can’t sleep either?” you spoke up, questioning the young boy.

            He looked up at the sound of your voice as you made your way over to him.

            “Not really,” he shrugged softly.

            You gave him a warm smile as your arms wrapped around yourself.

            “Are you up for a walk?” your soft voice called out to him.

            He raised an eyebrow at you, a ghost of a playful smile crossing his lips.

            “I’m a prefect, you know,” he stated.

            “And are you going to tattle on me, Mr. Prefect?” you quirked an eyebrow back at him, smiling in that playful and nearly seductive way that he always loved so much.

            “Have I ever?” he asked, getting up from his seat on the sofa and crossing over to you.

            “Never. And I sure hope you don’t start now,” you let out a gentle, airy laugh.

Your laugh reverberated in his mind, echoing in his chest as he felt a familiar warmth light up his body. This warmth, he knew, was not from the fire beside him. No, this warmth was a feeling that spread through him, only when your presence was near. He could never quite place the feeling, but he had his suspicions.

Walking to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest had slowly become a ritual for Remus and you. It was a special routine, saved solely for the pair of you, on the nights before the glowing moon entered its fullness. It helped to alleviate both of your anxieties, never completely, but just enough. Perhaps it was the reminder that neither one of you were alone that bared you comfort. That you had each other and you always would. Or so you both had thought at the time.

********

            Just as quickly as Remus had started to feel his breathing find a more repetitive rhythm, he found himself being washed away by unevenness and aching once again. He felt his heart catch and squeeze once more, reminded of the empty spot next to him. Your spot. He clenched his chest in one hand and exhaled loudly, trying to find your invisible hand once more. Trying to let you pull him back in. And after a few minutes of trying, the ghost of your fingertips brushed the pocket of his pajama pants once more. And he was with you again.

********

            Remus and you had escaped the confines of the castle, thanks to the familiar passageways unveiled to you by the Marauders Map. As you stepped into the cold and frigid air, you felt yourself shiver slightly at the contact of the snow on the back of your hands. You hadn’t known that the snowfall had appeared overnight, and you felt your heart sink even more at the thought of Remus having to go through tomorrow’s moon under the cruel laughter of the sharp wind and frozen sleet. James, Peter, Sirius, and you would be with him tomorrow as well, but you had no care or worry for the frost for yourself. Especially when it came to Remus. He was what mattered most to you, and you knew that James, Peter, and Sirius felt the same way when it came to Remus on nights of full moons.

Remus was almost always adorned in a sweater and long pants of some sort. Even now, in the dark of the night, he had a fleece, knitted sweater covering his long pajama pants. You, on the other hand, were clothed in pajama pants of your own, with a thin black, long-sleeved shirt to cover your arms. You shivered and shook with the contact of the cold air on your skin, but just as you would tomorrow night, you took no notice of it. As always, Remus was what mattered most, and your habitual walk would take precedence in the forefront of your mind. However, Remus was quick to pick up on the blue of your fingertips and the pink of your cheeks.

            “You’re cold,” he hummed. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, rather.

You smiled up at him.

            “I’m fine.”

            “Here,” he said simply, taking your hands and enveloping them in the large, warmer embrace of his own. He began rubbing his hands against your entangled ones, trying to build warmth from the friction of his movement. You smiled at the gesture watching as his beautiful, scar-mapped fingers, wrapped themselves around yours. When he slowly pulled away, you quickly felt a part of yourself feel a bit empty at the loss of contact. And just as this thought flickered through your mind, before you could begin to truly feel the loss, he took the hand that paralleled yours and entwined them together. He then took his and your clasped hands and gently guided them into the soft, cotton pocket of his pajama pants.

You felt your already pink cheeks burn bright red at the action. You had been close to Remus both emotionally and physically before, but this was new. You had to remind yourself that he was just trying to keep you warm; that he wanted you to be comfortable as you kept him company tonight, and that was all. You decided that he probably thought nothing of the action. But oh, were you terribly mistaken. Remus felt his bravery dissipate as he waited with bated breath for any sign of response from you. He had taken a risk, a big step, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way. He didn’t know what propelled him to take such a step in that moment. Looking back, he would throw his head into your shoulder laughing about the obviousness of it all, as the two of you would reminisce on that night in the years to come. He would grin, remembering that your response hadn’t been one of rejection. It had been quite the opposite, rather. You turned your head to peer at your interlocked hands in his pocket and then peered up at his face, your eyes searching his as you gave him a big, beautiful smile.

            “Thank you,” you said softly.

            “Of course,” he muttered as his heart missed a beat in its pace.

            The two of you remained tangled, hand in hand as you walked the edge of the forest for some time. Neither you, nor Remus said a word. But it wasn’t awkward or unfamiliar. This silence was one of understanding. It was an unspoken agreement, a comfort to the other. A place where both of you could escape the reality of what was to come. A place where you could let your minds wander to the wonderous places that they couldn’t before, when you had pointlessly attempted to drift into a light sleep hours ago. You kept on walking, leaving two pairs of footsteps in the falling snow behind you. The shallow marks would be covered quickly by morning with new fall, as if you two had never been there at all. But just as easily as your silence and footsteps were fashioned, they were quickly broken as well.

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of a mellow, agonizing moan. At the forced stop of your footsteps, Remus felt himself get pulled back by your distracted, distant self.

            “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he spoke out to you, concerned and worried as his eyes searched your face, neck bent to bring his eyes closer to yours.

Not once have you ever torn yourself from your continuous pace through the forest. You have never been one to break the simple but constant escape that the two of you had created. You whipped your head around, too distracted to respond to Remus. You didn’t even look at him. You knew it was the feeble sound of something in pain. You felt your heart squeeze at the possibilities of what you might see as you desperately searched for the source of the weak sound. You took a step closer to the band of trees lining the forest, still hand in hand with Remus, as your movement gently pulled him with you.

            “Y/N…” he called. “What is it?” He felt his other hand go to his wand just in case you sensed danger. He would do anything to protect you and the way you were walking head-first towards the trees sent a shiver of fear and panic down his spine. Just briefly you noticed the glow of two bright eyes on the floor of the forest. They were so small, that if you hadn’t been searching so relentlessly, you would have missed them. Your eyes were quickly drawn to the glisten of a puddle surrounding the hopeless, golden glow of the eyes in the trees. Blood.

            You ripped your hand from Remus’ pocket as you rushed in between the trees fearlessly, unfazed by the imminent dangers and endless possibilities of fatality that lurked in every corner of the forest. He felt the chill that had been sent down his spine earlier electrocute every piece of his body this time. He fled after you, heart beating in his ears, wand in his hand, eyes searching desperately for you, needing to protect you.

He had never worried about bringing you out here with him before. You had always listened to him when he confided that he’d rather you two stay on the outside of the forest, familiar with the dangers that find their home inside. You’d never given him reason to believe that you would so foolishly put your life on the line, against his request. At least, on nights that you shared with him, like these. You had a reckless side to you, especially when it came to protecting those you loved. But you also had always been so considerate of Remus and his worries and fears. You had always shown him that he could trust you to make wise decisions when he requested for such. So why now did you run so decidedly into the deadly Forbidden Forest, without an ounce of hesitation?

            Remus’ eyes finally locked in on your form. You were seated on the wet, grassy ground of the forest floor. But you weren’t alone. In your embrace was the weeping frame of an injured unicorn, it’s golden eyes weak with pain. It was then that Remus noticed the blood that seeped and stained the green grass of the forest. Fear shot through his body, but it left as soon as he realized that the blood was not yours. He sighed. It had taken one glance at the state of the beast in your embrace to determine that the blood was its own. Obviously, it wasn’t yours.

He looked back to the anguished eyes of the small, sleek body of the unicorn before him. You held the infant foal, halfway in your lap as your docile hands ran over the tip of its nose to the top of its head in a never-ending cycle. The baby unicorn’s blood coated your pants and made the blackness of your shirt appear wet. Remus heard the light, humane sound of your voice hum helpless words of comfort to the poor thing.

He stepped on a branch, sounding behind your curled frame. At the sound of the broken wood, you turned your head to look at Remus. He noticed the tears that shone in your eyes, tiny droplets coating your cheeks as you looked painfully at the tall boy behind you. Remus felt a pain more unbearable than that of his every bone breaking every month during a full moon. The sight of beautiful you, broken, covered in blood, nose wet from the cold, shining tears drenching your face was a sight he wished he hadn’t seen, and he hoped he would never see again. Life hadn’t been so kind to him as to grant him that hope.

            You turned back to the dying animal, desperate to hear its breathing regular and full of life. It was as if you were trying to breath your own life back into the baby as you forlornly traced the outline of its face and cooed words of comfort into its ear.

            “It’s okay, baby. I’m so sorry. You’ll be okay. I’m here,” you hummed through undeniable tears.

            Remus watched on, wanting to comfort you, but not wanting to disturb you. He dared not to take another step, entranced by this moment. Here you were, a passerby, unfamiliar to the creature before you, but you treated the innocent thing as if you were its own mother. You cradled that baby like it was your sole purpose in this life. There was no other explanation other than the fact that you had to be an angel. You were this baby’s angel, sent to comfort it, to guide it, as it passed on from this life. Remus stayed still; eyes glued to your form. All he could see was light. He saw light surrounding every piece of you, the angel. He saw light in the shimmer of the blood that seeped the ground. He saw light in the dimming glisten of the golden eyes of the beautiful creature. He had seen light on the tip of your nose, on the surface of your cheeks. He realized now that you had always been made of light. Every flicker of your eyes, every curve of your lips. You were his light. And he loved the light… He loved you.

            It wasn’t a choice given to him. Perhaps it was you and your very being. Maybe you had cast some sort of spell on him, entrancing his soul to belong to you forever. No. That wasn’t it. You hadn’t known. You were so beautifully, truly you. No. It was a fate cast upon him by the whatever god had sent you to him. To this weeping, fading creature. There was no choice. But oh, it was an enchanted fate. To love you.

            You watched with petrified eyes, as the breathing of the gentle creature began to slow. Your silent tears turned into imperceptible pleas.

“Oh, baby. Please, baby,” you whimpered out.

As you watched the golden eyes, move painfully, heavily, you felt a pang of guilt in your chest. It’s too late. It would be unfair to plead with the poor creature to stay. The sweetest thing, the kindest thing for it would be release. So, with a deep, broken breath, your pleads turned into a somber understanding. You began to comfort the little creature in its last moment.

            “O…okay, love. It’s okay. You can let go. I am with you. You are not alone,” you whispered. “You are not alone… I’m right here,” you repeated.

            And finally, as the light faded from its eyes for the last time, completely, dimly, darkening, you felt your pent-up sobs finally release as you hugged the baby’s empty, lifeless body. Remus finally allowed himself to move. He swiftly embraced you, sitting on the floor of the forest, permitting his arms to wrap around you, his grip holding you into place like the unwavering foundation to a crippling home. He pressed you closely to him, rocking you slightly as you sobbed, your body still refusing to pull away from the dead infant unicorn.

            “I’ve got you. I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry,” he murmured in your ear, words reflecting the very ones you had used to comfort the creature before you, just moments ago. His tone was much of the same. He spoke to you as if you were the helpless, fading creature. And one day, a few years later, you would take that very place. The one of the innocent creature, fading and dying. But for now, in the comfort of his words, you finally let go of the foal. You turned and placed your weak head into Remus’ chest, your hands clutching onto his sweater for support.

            “I’ve got you,” he repeated.

            The two of you remained like that for what felt like a lifetime. You leaned into Remus as he held you in his strong, encasing arms. When you finally caught your breath, you lifted your face from Remus’ chest, lifting your head to look at him through your hazy eyes. His gaze caught yours and he looked at you with an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before. It was different, it was new. And you couldn’t place it. There were a few, small, quiet tears that fell from his doe-like eyes and you lifted your fingers to wipe them from his cheek in wonder. Remus had always been so strong. You had only seen him cry once before. It was the night before a full moon. The night you started your tradition of walking with Remus along the edge of the forest in comfort and silence. It was the very reason you were out here in the first place. But here you are, in his arms, and wiping the muffled tears from his face. You caught how the moonlight reflected of the wet off his cheeks, shining in an iridescent glow. The shine of his tears confirmed something you’ve always know. It confirmed that Remus was the only person in this world who would truly ever, fully understand you. He understood every thought, every feeling without so much as a single word. And in this shine, you felt your chest fill up with that all too familiar, unfamiliar feeling. A warmth that you had felt for him for a very long time, but a simple name to the feeling, you could not place. In retrospect, a part of you had always known that you loved him, and Remus often said the same. But this night was the moment he realized. It was the moment he discovered what that warm feeling truly was. You were not too far behind him in your own epiphany, he remembered.

**********

At this thought, he felt himself being pulled back to reality. The earth felt so very far away as your body was taken from his embrace. His arms felt cold at the absence of your figure. And the sheets on top of him felt unsympathetic and empty once more. His breathing had slowed. It was not normal, but a part of him truly wondered if it would ever be normal again in your absence. No. He didn’t believe it would ever be. But it was just enough. Enough to get him through. Enough to keep his promise to you. Enough to open his eyes and blur his way through another, endless, dreadful day.

All of his days were dulled now. Your light, his light; it was all gone. You had taken it with you. Afterall, angels are not meant to stay on this ground forever. Their light is too good, too pure for a world like this. The same divine fate that had given you to him, had taken you from him. And now, he had to live every single day without light. What a soulless way to live. But he did it anyways, always trapped inside a memory, replaying it constantly in his mind. Remus was stagnant, never leaving that forest ground, with you in his arms. And the same way he had held you in his arms, you had held everything else in yours. You held his love, his soul, and his greatest fear come true. All of it laid in the shining light of your eyes. All of it died with you, the day that light went out.

[thestorycomesalive]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby

George Weasley x Reader

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

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

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

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

.....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you parted ways.

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

“Here you go,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Georgie,” you simply murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

[thestorycomesalive]

And I Would Do it Again

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: When you stick up for George in front of your whole Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Umbridge has a certain consequence in mind for you.

Angst and Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

TW: Mentions of Blood

****

“Eh hem, Mr. Weasley,” hummed a trilling voice from behind the tall red head next to you.

“Professor?” George raised an eyebrow to the pink clad woman behind him, wondering what in the world the small, angry lady could possibly want. Afterall, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he knew better than to test her at this point. Or at least he knew his limits. Ron had told him of the tragic events that took place in Harry’s detention. Ever since then, he and his twin brother had gotten quieter and cleverer about pulling their tricks around school. Of course, they hadn’t stopped altogether. George wouldn’t be George without his pranks. But George knew he couldn’t get detention. Not out of a kindness for himself, but rather for your sake. He knew you’d worry too much.

But this time, he hadn’t done anything to provoke Professor Umbridge. He racked his brain for a moment, but he couldn’t think of one thing that would call her attention to him.

“You have received a generous amount of our class time today to complete your writing assignment, and while even Ms. L/N next to you has come up with a few paragraphs, you seem to have nearly nothing on your page. Care to explain what you’ve been up to all of this time?” The woman teetered to the front of your table, peering down at George.

He gave her a look of disbelief. “Well, it is not for lack of trying. I just have a hard time learning on paper. And you don’t let us use our wands,” he pointed out.

She giggled a single, ugly giggle. “Mr. Weasley… I can’t say I’m surprised. Afterall, I have come to expect less than from you. You shouldn’t need your wand to learn. Perhaps it is time for you to accept the fact that your own stupidity is to blame for your shortcomings. I really do my very best, but some students are just purely unteachable.” She hummed the last part to herself, shaking her head.

Your eyes shot up to her instantly. You had been watching her for some time, but in this instance, your eyes had been on the boy next to you, offering looks of kindness and sympathy without words. But now you were angry. Practically fuming. “Excuse me,” you muttered sharply, grabbing her attention with a whip of her head. “That is not, in any way, fair or warranted. George is one of the smartest people I know.” Your eyes were shooting darts at her as a piercing, condescending smile crept up to her ears.

“Ms. L/N. Talking out of turn will not be tolerated in my classroom. Especially not when it is used to talk back to your superiors,” she huffed.

You felt the smallest sensation of George’s pinky finger entwining with yours, as he tried to simmer down some of the anger, he knew was bubbling within you. You sighed and decided to leave the subject, having said your piece.

“You shall not question my knowledge and wisdom in any sense. If I say he is stupid, he is stupid, and if I say you are a flying Niffler, well then, you must be a flying Niffler. Do you understand, young lady?” she grinned, clearly having been satisfied with what she thought was winning the argument. You feel the heat and anger rising even higher than before at the mention of the sweet boy next to you. And then you finally realized what it is she was asking of you. She was asking you to agree with her cruel assumption about your George in front of the whole class. She cocks an eyebrow in the air with a wild smirk on her face. The rage pools over as you finally let it escape your mouth.

“No. I do not. I do not understand how you can call someone so bright and creative stupid, simply because you lack the skills and empathy to teach them what you would like them to know. Or because their knowledge simply extends beyond concepts that you can understand. You might not agree with me, Professor, but not everyone is like you. Not everyone wants to sit in a dark room and just pretend to learn for the rest of their lives. You want to give me detention, Professor? Fine. But I will not stand by while you abuse really great wizards, let alone, the ones that I love.” You cock your eyebrows back at her, knowing she has you right where she wants you. You don’t have a care in the world as the steam almost rises from your ears. It is now you notice that George’s hand had moved from your pinky to your wrist, gently trying to stop you from making the decision you had just made, his eyes pleading with yours with a gentle sadness and slight shock. However, for the briefest moment, you thought you could make out the tiniest glimpse of pride pass his eyes at the same time.

“Detention, Ms. L/N. I will not have anyone tell me how to teach in my classroom or question my abilities and judgement as a witch. Let alone someone so new to magic, as yourself.” She smiled smugly as she returned to the front of the classroom continuing her lesson immediately, not giving George or you a chance to respond to her. It was this act that left George hunting her down with a glare that could kill for the rest of the class, hand still in yours.

****

George spent every moment away from you that day, skipping his classes, trying in every way to get himself detention with Umbridge as well. However, every attempt ended with a quiet humph and scolding from her filled with cruel and nasty words. It was clear that even though she dreadfully wanted to, she was not going to give in and give George the detention he so desperately desired. She knew his punishment would be far more effective if she let you suffer and put him in a position where he would not be able to do anything about it whatsoever. It was the only time that he had the freedom to do nearly anything he wanted at Hogwarts, to break almost any rule he wanted to break, and get away with it. The painful irony is, he hated every second of it.

*****

Your detention arrived quickly that night when the corridors of the castles quieted. You had spent all day since your class with Umbridge quiet by George’s side. On the moments that you would be separated, you would go find a place in the Gryffindor Common Room to sit and wait for him to return from his classes or what you thought must be prank trials with Fred. But you weren’t worried about your detention like most people probably assumed you had been. Hell, you probably should’ve been. No. You were furious. Furious at Umbridge for targeting George, furious at her for backing you into a corner until you couldn’t take it anymore, furious at her for hurting Harry, furious at her for getting away with all of the terrible things she has done… furious.

When darkness befell the Common Room, only George, Fred, Lee, and you remained. You hadn’t told Harry or anyone else about your detention. You didn’t want him to worry. However, Fred and Lee, of course, had known of your soon-to-be punishment, considering they had been in the class when you received it. When you left the classroom, George pulled you into his side protectively and Lee had given you proud pat on the shoulder. With an exaggerated wink, Fred had run up and exclaimed, “Blimey, that was amazing, L/N! Nice craftsmanship, excellent execution.” Fred had tried to wipe some of the anger from your face throughout the day with a few, “don’t mess with that one, she’s fiery” and “Oi, Lee, careful. Catch yourself even looking at ol’ Georgie too long, and you might have to answer to that one,” with a point in your direction. These usually earned a genuine, soft smile from you as you chuckled to yourself. Freddie was the one person in the world who could make any person laugh no matter the circumstances. George would blush, and if he saw you laughing, he would also laugh to himself at the mention of the last joke from Fred. Part of you wondered if he may have enjoyed feeling your protectiveness over him. And you didn’t mind. You liked that he liked it. Even now.

But as the four of you sat late in the quiet Common Room, you felt the jokes wash away as George twiddled with his fingers, your head on his chest. You could tell he was feeling worried and helpless as you waited for your time to leave for detention. When that time came, you gave them a gentle smile and said, “Alright, I’m off. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Don’t go worrying about me too much.” You gave Fred and Lee a wink and kissed the top of George’s head.

As if on instinct, George grabbed your hand, pleading with his face, as if he were trying to keep you from going. But he knew that if you did not show up tonight, it would only earn you an even bigger punishment with the nasty, pink-shoed woman later. You took his hand and held it to your cheek as you gave him a little smile and whispered, “I love you. Goodnight.” And off you went, George watching your back as you left.

*****

As you creaked through the half open door of Umbridge’s office, you heard her squeal in delight. She toned out, “Do come in, Ms. L/N.”

You walked in without a word, eyes piercing through the small woman as she continued. “I do hope tonight will serve you nicely. You will be writing lines for me, dear.” You nodded your head, eyes still shooting at the Professor. This is what you had expected to hear from her. “Take a seat. There is a quill and parchment already for you at the desk there.”

 You took a seat at the desk she pointed to as she tutted. “Hmm… What lesson is to be learned tonight, do you think?” You, of course, didn’t answer. “There are many lessons I believe you could benefit from learning, Ms. L/N, but I have chosen to be generous to you, for reasons unbeknownst to me. I believe the lines, ‘I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors’, will do just fine.”

 Your mouth dropped. You were expecting to write lines, and you knew the pain that would come with that, but you had not expected the number of words she would give you to write to be so extensive. You only prayed that the number of lines she would have you complete would be less, to even out your sentence to compare to the stories you had heard from others, including Harry. You dared to ask. “How many- “

“One hundred,” she interrupted without hesitation.

You nodded, eyes still a bit wide from shock. You assumed that you had really struck a nerve with your defiance towards Umbridge. Afterall, why else would your sentence be nearly double that of any other student you have heard from so far? You figured that you also were being used as punishment towards those you loved as well. Those who have also unmeaningly struck a nerve of Umbridge’s too: Harry and George. But you wouldn’t be used as bait. No, you quite refused to be used as such.

As you dared to hover the dry quill over the paper, you prepared yourself for the pain that would inevitably begin once you touched them down to meet. And when it did, the pain was one hundred times more unbearable than you had even begun to imagine, just like the number of lines you were to complete.

By the time you had arrived halfway through your assignment, blood was dripping down your fingertips, drenching your parchment along with the tears crawling down your face. Finally, soft whimpers that you had tried to hold back for so long, began to escape.

 The clock ticking echoed in your ears, taunting your brain with the idea of freedom. After what felt like an eternity, you had finished the lines, and you were a both dry and wet bloodied mess. You sat up from your seat and handed the now quiet professor your scarlet stained parchment full of scratches reading, “I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors”, front and back.

“May I leave now?” you uttered.

She simply nodded with a conniving grin plastered on her face as she watched you walk out the door.

*****

You held your breath until you arrived back past the portrait into the Gryffindor Common Room, not wanting that evil woman to hear you cry. When you stepped into the room, you pressed your back to the cold wall next to you and grabbed your wrist, blood flow never-ending, and finally let the tears and sobs escape you, as your back fell down the wall. You were so blinded by the pain that you didn’t even notice there was someone in the room with you. They ran up from the couch, over to your place by the wall, and sat right next to you, pulling you into their lap. From the moment you discovered the figure, your brain and your heart knew it would be your George. Part of you had a feeling he wouldn’t sleep until you were back, and you didn’t want him to see you like this. You fought your brain which told you that you were allowing yourself to be the live weapon that Umbridge wanted you to be. You just hadn’t expected the pain to be so much. You hadn’t expected that you would collapse right in front of George. You so desperately wanted to be strong. To stay strong for him. For yourself. But, oh merlin, did it hurt.

His big arms wrapped around your shoulders and brought his hand to pull your bloodied one into his line of sight. His breathing hitched and he felt his blood run to his cheeks and his ears as his other hand clenched into a fist. He was seeing red at the extra bloodied hand you fostered, much worse than he had ever seen, even on Harry. But the rage he felt was nothing compared to the crunch of his heart splitting in two as your cries of pain reached his ears. He didn’t know what to do, he felt so helpless, just as he had all day, but a million times worse.

“Darling, I know. I’m so sorry. I’m- I’m so sorry. Please. Please, I have to wrap this. You have to let me wrap this,” he struggled, pleading with you.

Your head heard his words, and it told you to move, to stop crying, to say something. But your skin was on fire, and the roar of the flames outspoke the language of your brain trying to reason with your body. You were able to lean your head into his shoulder, as you tried to compose yourself as best as you could, but the best you could do was quiet your sobs ever so slightly, as any and all words fell silent in the back of your throat. Your tears soaked through his shirt and coated his upper arm that still held you. He began to take his arms and pull himself up, untangling himself from you. He moved to sit on his knees in front of you, eyes searching for yours as he tilted your chin up to look at him.

“My love. Please. I need to wrap your hand. Can I bring you to the couch?” he asked, peering through your eyes for an answer.

You slightly nodded your head, barely noticeable. But George, he saw it. He always saw it. He could read you better than anyone in the world. The moment he saw your head move, he scooped his arm under your bent legs and placed his other one across your back and under your arms. You turned your head into his shoulder as he gently move to place you on the couch, your back pressed to the arm of the chair. You pulled your knees up on the couch, moving your heels to touch your bottom. Splayed out across the table in front of you were bandages and a wrap for your hand. As the tears began finding themselves more and more scarce at the hope of relief, the smaller of the words at the back of your throat began to find their way out.

“Georgie?” you asked, coming out in a high-pitched whimper.

His deep, worrying eyes looked to you, hands finding your cheeks. He followed your eyes to the table and the equipment laying on it. An embarrassed blush came to his cheeks as his brows furrowed. Supplies. It was pathetic, he thought. He should’ve been the one being punished. But instead, it was you and there was absolutely nothing he could do except for find some simple supplies. Unable to even think about sleeping, he had snuck his way over to Madame Pomfrey in the medical wing as soon as you had exited the Common Room. He asked her for some supplies and after more than a lot of convincing that everything was okay and that he wasn’t up to anything that would get her in trouble, she suspiciously obliged. He knew you would refuse to see her anyways, not wanting to take up her time. And deep down, he too knew that there was not much she would be able to do for you, no matter how much he begged. Afterall, this was a punishment enacted by Umbridge herself, and no matter how much she wanted to, Pomfrey could not disregard the rules set in place by the self-proclaimed headmaster and inquisitor.

He turns back to you quickly trying to cover the look of shame and guilt on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” his voice breaks, tears of his own forming.

You could see him fighting with his own mind over something that you were sure would split your heart right down the middle.

“George?” you squeaked out once more.

“I’m so sorry…It’s my fault. I was behind in class. It should’ve been me. Not you. I should’ve protected you, I-,” he finally lets it all come rushing out.

You cut him off by placing your good hand on his cheek, giving him a difficult and very broken smile. Your voice comes out raspy from the sobs you had forced down but determined now, as soon as you hear the pain in George's own voice. “No. This decision was mine, George. All mine…” you give the faintest of laughs, almost in disbelief. “And yet, I can’t find the mind to regret it… I would do it again… and again.”

He leaned into your touch, eyes wincing as you revealed to him that you would take this punishment and this pain for him once again.

“Look at me?” you whispered.

He brought his eyes up to meet yours. Your voice was a little bit clearer now, although wavering ever so slightly.

“My decision. Please do not take that away from me, Georgie. It was my decision to make, and I am so glad that I did. You are so smart. You know that, right?” You looked up at him from under your eyelashes through the now silent and mild tears that streamed down your face.

He shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to even begin to describe himself as smart. If that were true, he thought, he would’ve found a way to be there with you. If that were true, you wouldn’t have been there at all. He couldn’t understand, how through all of the terror and pain, you were the one to comfort him. He simply began to unwrap the bandages from their place on the table and started to wrap them tightly around your hand to stop the blood from dripping any longer, a lot of it starting to dry already. When he was finished, you took your good hand and placed it on his cheek once again. You pulled him into a sweet, soft, salty kiss.

“Smart. Clever. Kind. Brave. Gentle,” you muttered these words in his ear as you rested your head on his shoulder, and he once again pulled you into his lap, this time, towards him.

“The strongest girl I know, so beautiful, so loving…,” he muttered back, caressing your hair, trailing off into magical, sweet nothings that mean quite everything to both of you.

“I love you, Georgie,” you whisper.

“I love you, darling,” he says.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” you ask the beautiful, ginger boy that you love so dearly.

“I will always stay with you, my love,” he says as he begins to lift your body from the couch to carry to your dorm. There the two of you find comfort in each other’s embrace, finally drifting off into a deep sleep.