Pairing: George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader
Summary: George Weasley completely fails in Transfiguration and is about to never play Quidditch again. Fortunately (or not) for him, McGonagall makes you help him.
Warnings: a guy being weird, no use of y/n
Wc: i wrote this on notes this time and couldn’t count, sorry!
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4 (soon)
It was obvious you noticed George’s strange behavior. The fact he was practically ignoring you was bothering you, and you didn’t even know exactly why.
Normally, he’d throw you a wink, flash that stupid little grin, or walk over to the Ravenclaw table to ask what new torture method you had prepared for him during tutoring.
But there he was, head lowered, focusing way too hard on his food. Seriously, what was wrong with him? It was hard not to frown at how weird he was acting.
You turned your attention back to the Ravenclaw boy, trying not to think too much about George.
You couldn’t quite remember his name. Something like Roger? Probably. He was just another one of the many students who asked for your help with classes, and you’d heard he’d managed to get the grade he needed to pass.
“Congratulations,” you said with a small smile, once again trying to hide the uneasiness in your chest.
“It was all thanks to you,” he replied.
“Oh, no it wasn’t. What actually helped you was your effort.”
“Well… I’ll have to disagree. It takes quite a bit of effort not to get distracted by you.”
“Huh?” You looked at him, visibly confused.
You heard a muffled giggle somewhere nearby, probably Charlotte. You ignored it.
“No need to get shy. I’m not the only one who thinks that.”
You gave him something that vaguely resembled a smile, trying not to look uncomfortable.
Completely oblivious to your discomfort, Roger leaned in dangerously close.
“I was thinking… now that I’m finally free from that class, maybe you’d like to grab a butterbeer with me sometime?”
“Um… I guess that wouldn’t be a bad idea. I could use some relaxing. Who’s going?”
At your question, he smiled in a way you immediately disliked.
“Me, you, and your pretty…” you noticed his eyes shamelessly scanning you up and down, making you even more uncomfortable. “Face,” he finished with another grin.
“The thing is… I have to…”
Before you could finish your sentence, a strong hand landed on your shoulder. You immediately turned your head to see who it was.
“Sorry, mate. She already has company.”
“Oh yeah? Does she know that?”
He looked at you as if fully expecting you to reject George on the spot and go with him instead.
“So? Do you actually have plans with… him?”
“Yes,” you answered immediately.
You felt George’s hand relax slightly on your shoulder.
“You heard the lady,” George said with a grin stretching from ear to ear.
Unlike what you expected, Roger smiled even wider.
“Well, that’s a shame. But I guess we’ll still see each other there, won’t we?”
You had no idea what to say, but George only smiled more.
For a second, Roger’s smile faltered, but he simply nodded and stood up.
You stared at George in disbelief.
“You don’t actually think we’re going out, do you?”
“Of course we are,” he answered casually.
“I’ll pick you up at five.”
And just like that, he walked back to his table.
Your friends immediately started bombarding you with questions like “Since when did this happen?” and “Have you two kissed already?”, but your mind was still trying to process the fact that you were apparently going on a date.
As everyone started leaving the Great Hall, you quickly rushed after George, who was already walking ahead with Fred and Lee.
Without thinking twice, you grabbed his sleeve and dragged him into an empty corridor, shoving him lightly against the wall with a deadly glare.
You noticed his face turning red almost instantly, though that smug grin never left his lips.
“Couldn’t wait until the date, huh?”
Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms.
“So, are you going to explain what that was? Everyone saw!”
“And?” George asked as if publicly announcing a date in front of the entire school was perfectly normal behavior.
“And now what are people supposed to think? What if they think we’re…” you trailed off, feeling your face grow hotter by the second. It was probably bright red by now.
That only made George grin even more. Of course he knew the effect you had on him, but seeing you like this, shy and blushing because of him, made him feel strangely better about himself, especially after all the insecurities and doubts that had been eating away at him lately.
“So what? Since when do you care about what people say?”
“It’s not that I care, it’s just that… we don’t exactly would make the best couple, do we?”
The words slipped out before you could stop them, and the moment you realized what you’d said, you turned quickly to look at George.
The smug smile he wore everywhere disappeared immediately. His lips pushed into the most offended little pout imaginable, and for a second, he genuinely looked hurt.
“And why not?” he asked, frowning dramatically.
“Do you seriously want to talk about the possibility of us becoming a couple?” you asked, secretly hoping he’d say yes. But if he did… what exactly would you even say?
“George, it’s nothing personal, but you’re so… and I’m so…”
You opened your mouth almost immediately, ready to answer, but nothing came out. The words got stuck somewhere between your throat and your pride, and judging by the way George was looking at you now, he noticed.
He was still leaning against the wall, but the smugness from earlier had faded into something much softer. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, lips pushed into that offended little pout that would’ve been ridiculous on anyone else. On him, somehow, it only made your chest feel tighter.
“You’re popular,” you finally said quietly, avoiding his eyes for a moment. “You’re… you. Everyone knows you. Everyone likes you.”
“And I’m not.” You let out an awkward little laugh, shaking your head. “I mean, look at us.”
The second the words left your mouth, George’s expression changed again. The pout disappeared completely now, replaced by something sharper, almost offended in a way that looked strangely genuine. He pushed himself off the wall properly, standing up straighter as he looked down at you.
For a second, George just stared at you.
Then his eyebrows pulled together so fast it almost looked painful.
You frowned slightly at his reaction. “What do you mean, what?”
“You think I’m the popular one here?” he asked, sounding genuinely baffled.
“George, literally everyone knows who you are.”
“Yes, because Fred once accidentally blew up a corridor and somehow people blamed me for it too,” he said immediately, waving a hand dismissively before narrowing his eyes at you. “That doesn’t explain why you’re acting like you’re some sort of social outcast.”
You opened your mouth, then closed it again.
George pushed himself properly off the wall now, looking at you like you’d just said the most absurd thing he’d ever heard in his life.
“You cannot seriously think people don’t notice you.”
A nervous laugh escaped you. “They don’t.”
George stared at you for a long moment before letting out a short, disbelieving laugh of his own. He dragged a hand down his face dramatically, shaking his head.
“You actually are,” he insisted, stepping closer. “Do you know how many people talk about you?”
Your face scrunched immediately. “I don’t think I like where this conversation is going.”
“Oh, I do,” George said quickly, pointing at you. “Because apparently someone needs to inform you that half the boys in this school are terrified of you.”
You let out an incredulous laugh. “Terrified of me?”
“Yes.” His expression remained completely serious. “You’re pretty, clever, and you have this look on your face like you’d hex someone for breathing incorrectly near you.”
“I do not look like that.”
Your mouth dropped open in offense, but George only grinned slightly now, clearly pleased with himself.
“You walk around carrying seventeen books against your chest like some judgmental little librarian,” he continued. “And every time someone says something stupid in class, you get that expression.”
George immediately mimicked you, lifting an eyebrow and pressing his lips together in an unimpressed stare that was irritatingly accurate.
You shoved his shoulder at once. “I do not look like that.”
“You do,” he laughed. “It’s terrifying.”
Despite his teasing, there was something warm in his expression now. Something softer underneath the amusement.
“You really don’t know, do you?” he asked more quietly.
Your confidence faltered slightly at that.
George looked at you for a second like he was trying to figure out how someone could possibly be this unaware of themselves.
“That people stare at you all the time,” he said simply.
The smile immediately slipped from your face.
“I’m serious.” His voice softened now, losing most of its teasing edge. “They just don’t approach you because they assume you’ll reject them.”
“It’s true.” George tilted his head slightly, studying your expression. “Roger practically looked like he was preparing for battle just to ask you out.”
You snorted despite yourself.
“He absolutely did. I think I saw him reconsider his entire existence when you looked at him for too long.”
You tried to hold back your smile, but failed miserably. George noticed instantly. There it is, his expression seemed to say.
And suddenly he was smiling too, softer this time, almost fond.
“You have no idea what you look like to other people, do you?” he murmured.
The question made your chest tighten uncomfortably. Because no, maybe you didn’t.
And the way George was looking at you right now certainly wasn’t helping.
Suddenly neither of you knew where to look anymore.
Your eyes dropped somewhere near the collar of his sweater instead, painfully aware of how close he still was. Close enough that you could smell that faint mix of parchment, smoke, and something warm that always seemed to cling to him after long days.
“You’re thinking again,” George murmured quietly.
You looked up immediately. “What?”
“That look.” The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “You get this crease right here.” He pointed vaguely between his own eyebrows. “Means your brain’s about to explode.”
Your hand instinctively moved to your forehead. George laughed softly under his breath.
“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” The words slipped out casually. Too casually.
George seemed to realize it at the exact same moment you did because his entire expression froze for half a second afterward.
Then his ears turned bright red.
George stared very intensely at the wall beside your head.
“…I meant scary,” he corrected weakly.
A smile tugged uncontrollably at your mouth.
He let out a long sigh, dragging both hands down his face dramatically. “Merlin, this is humiliating.”
“You flirt with everyone. How are you suddenly bad at it?”
George looked at you again then, properly this time.
And annoyingly, the teasing disappeared from his expression almost immediately.
Your stomach flipped so fast it was genuinely unfair.
He said things like that so naturally sometimes, like he didn’t even realize the effect they had on you afterward.
Judging by the way George immediately looked nervous after saying it, maybe he did.
The silence stretched again, warmer now somehow.
George shifted slightly beside you, suddenly seeming very interested in the sleeve of his sweater before speaking again.
“I had this whole thing planned, by the way.”
You blinked. “What thing?”
“You know.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Being charming after saving you from Creepy Roger.”
“He looked at you like he wanted to write poetry about your eyelashes.”
“That is oddly specific.”
George shrugged. “I notice things.”
You looked away quickly before he could notice how much that answer affected you.
Unfortunately for you, George noticed everything.
His smile softened slightly as he watched you avoid his eyes again.
“You’re doing that thing,” he murmured.
“Getting shy and pretending you’re not.”
“You literally can’t look at me right now.”
“That’s because your face is annoying.”
George laughed quietly again, softer this time.
You hated how nice his laugh sounded when it wasn’t loud and exaggerated for once.
For a moment, neither of you said anything again. You could hear distant voices somewhere further down the corridor, students heading back to their common rooms, but here everything felt strangely still.
Then George spoke again, quieter now.
“You know… if this date goes horribly, we can always pretend it never happened.”
You looked back at him immediately.
For the first time since this conversation started, George actually looked nervous.
Not jokingly nervous. Really nervous.
Like despite all the flirting and teasing, a part of him genuinely thought you might still change your mind.
And somehow that made something in your chest ache.
“It’s not going to go horribly,” you said before thinking too hard about it.
A/n: comment if you want to be tagged on the next part!