Whelp, that's me!

Finn has taken her into his home, introduced his circle to her and his intentions (to regain the crown and be crowned king, as it is his birth right) were clear from the beginning. Brie was trained by them and told as much of the truth as they could, eventhough she was dangerously close to their enemies. She saw the things the golden queen did.

But her golden prince ✨Bash✨ lied to her since he first said hello! All he desperately tried, was to get into her pants and make her bind herself to him. Like wtf!?

The second she finds out, that - Spoiler - she has the thing all of them desire, she's only suspicious of Finn. Like as though he didn't repeatedly say where his loyalties and intentions lie. But sure, Brie! Don't waste a second being suspicous of the fact that Sebastian wound up next door of your home. Of all the places he could go. And only ever fell for you, when you looked like a sewer rat, never leaving your basement except for when you're stealing, while being surrounded by wealthy and beautiful people.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word count:1.2k

Age: George is in 6th year you are in 4th year.

Type of fic: Fluff

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Summary: You go to Hogwarts and You’re best friends with Ginny Weasley. You fell in love with her older brother George and he had fallen for you but neither of you knew how the other felt until now...

You pulled your mid-length brown hair back into a low messy bun, allowing the smaller pieces to fall out and frame your round face. Your eyes traced your reflection in the mirror starting with the green irises of your almond shaped eyes below your perfectly arched brows, moving to your freckled covered button nose and rosy cheeks and down to your plump heart shaped lips which you applied a tinted gloss to.

You straightened your green and black tie and pulled on your black robes that proudly declared you were a Slytherin. You let out a sigh before you crept over to the door of your dorm. It was 5.30am at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and the others in your dorm were fast asleep. Sleep had eluded you for the past 30 minutes and you couldn’t bare to stare up at your ceiling any longer. You’d decided to head down to your favourite spot with your copy of Emma by Jane Austen. You had just over an hour before breakfast would be served and the boathouse provided a serene atmosphere for submerging yourself into any piece of literature; your favourites being muggle works of fiction.

You snuck out of the castle and followed the winding path down to the boathouse. The air was crisp and cold pinched your cheeks. In the darkness, the smell of freshly cut grass was overwhelming. You stumbled a few times before you pulled out your 11 inch Ebony wand with Phoenix feather core and you whispered “Lumos” as if someone would hear you.

You’d finally made your way to the boathouse using your wand as a guide but still managed to stumble a few times. You put your wand away whispering “nox” to put out the light and as you walked up to the part of the dock you normally sit at, you noticed the silhouette of a tall boy.

“Hello?” You called out, sounding more like a question than a greeting.

The boy jumped slightly before he turned towards you. The moonlight bounced off his face and you recognised him as one of the older brothers to your best friend Ginny.

He was one of the twins and normally you needed to get closer to discern which one was which but you already knew that it was George Weasley who was an avid fan of late night/early morning strolls.

“You joining me?” He called to you, his voice still husky revealing he’d not been awake all that long either. The scratch of his voice had made your stomach flip. You’d been in love with George since 2nd year. You’d been staying with the Weasley’s for a few weeks that summer whilst your parents went on a work trip. As usual, the Weasley boys were competitive and they’d decided to have a game of Quidditch. It was during this match you’d taken a fall from your broom because of George. He’d felt so guilty he spent the rest of the week taking care of you and making you laugh. You were convinced that he thought you were nothing more than his little sister’s friend.

You nervously put one foot in front of the other and made your way over to him. You sat yourself down, your left knee gently touched his right and you had almost let out an audible gasp at the contact. He smelt of fireworks, the wood of a broomstick and a touch of butter beer. You inhaled deeply, not knowing the next chance you’d ever get to be this close to him.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He asked you, breaking your dazed state. All you could manage was a nod. You’d found yourself too scared to speak and hardly being able to focus on anything other than his leg on yours. He looked down at you, curiosity on his face. Speechless was not your usual state. His eyes took in your appearance and you felt a blush creep across your cheeks as if you were being scrutinised. You looked up to meet George’s eyes and a mischievous grin flickered across his face.

“ Is there a reason you’re so tongue-tied?” He teased you as his eyes glinted daringly. He leaned back on the palms of his hands, this pushed his leg further into yours.

“Oh, just tired.” You manage to stutter out. You decided to lean back on your own palms so you were more comfortable and so it appeared casual. George’s eyes had followed your every move. You played to it as you found his attention deliciously intoxicating. You stretched out a little forcing your chest out slightly. He cleared his throat and withdrew his gaze, shifting his eyes to the water that was gently rising and falling.

George shifted on his palms and his little finger grazed yours. He lingered there for a few seconds before he rested it in the ground, still maintaining contact. You studied his face unsure of what your next move should be but all you could think about was how much you wished his lips were pressed against your own.

His gaze fell to your book that you had placed on your knee when you’d sat down.

“Emma? You and your muggle books” he laughed. “What’s this one about?”

You had then launched into a 10 minute speech telling him the entire plot in extreme detail. As you fawned over everything from plot devices to character development, George had listened intently, his eyes occasionally dropping to your lips before he refocused them on your eyes.

“Sorry.” You had apologised after you’d exhausted your knowledge on the novel.

“You wanted a brief description not a whole essay.” You chuckled nervously, breaking eye contact as heat returned to your cheeks. As you’d looked away a strand of hair that had escaped your messy bun had fallen across your face.

George reached up a long, slender finger and tucked the piece behind your ear.

“No need to apologise. You’re never more beautiful than when you talk about something you love.” His tone had become serious.

You’d frozen in place as you’d tried to register what he’d said. You’d all but convinced yourself he wasn’t paying you a compliment when he continued talking, this time more nervous.

“You do this thing where, urm, your nose scrunches and your eyes go wide and sparkly and you make really big, expressive hand gestures.” He had then paused. “ I always find myself jealous of the things you talk about.” He sighed and then gently turned your chin, his fingers barely touching your face like you were the most delicate thing on the planet, so that you were forced to meet his deep brown eyes.

“ I find myself longing for you to be talking about me in that way. Passionate, full of love.”

He’d let his voice trail off, scared that he’d confessed too much but he continued to search your eyes for any clue of what you thought.

Without even realising it, you had found yourself leaning towards him. Your lips found his in an explosion of heat and longing. This had said how you felt in a way that your words never could. Desire and content had flowed in every movement of your lips on his. Every gasp and every hitch of your breath and only encouraged George to deepen the kiss more until you both pulled away breathless.

A Harry Potter Fanfic.

Rating: 18+

Prologue

You soaked in the warmth of the sun’s rays as you laid on the grass in the middle of a meadow. You had a flower crown that you crafted yourself especially for today, gently resting on your waist length, lilac curls that were sprawled out in all directions from your head, like your own rays. You stared up at the clouds trying to decipher any hidden messages the sky tried to tell you. Litha, your favourite holiday. You’d been raised by two amazing adoptive parents since infancy and you were brought up a pagan. The summer solstice fell on the 20th June this year. You could feel the power of the sun soaking through your pores, it’s energy tingling through your body.

You’d always been a little different from the other witches that were in your coven. Your spells worked a little faster for one and secondly, strange things seemed to happen often and you were always at the centre of them. This meant that the other children in the coven didn’t want to play with you as much when you were younger and now you’re 11, they avoided you almost entirely.

You let out a sigh deciding the sky had nothing to say to you today and decided to make your way back home, collecting wild flowers as you went adding an extra 30 minutes to your journey.

As you walked through the front door you could immediately tell the vibe was off but you were unsure what to make of it. You made your way to the kitchen, the strong scent of the sun cakes your mum had been baking earlier making your mouth water. When you walked into the kitchen you were met with your parents sat at the table staring at a letter.

“Mum? Dad? What’s going on?” You asked, concern growing in the pit of your stomach.

Your mum looked up, a little teary but smiled. “We knew this would come for you, we just weren’t sure when this summer it would arrive, go on, open it.” She said gesturing to the letter.

You went over to the table and picked it up. It looked like a class project you did once, almost as if it had been stained by a teabag. The writing on the front was in cursive and read “Miss A Scott, 24 Mercury Way, Estone, Sheffield”. You turned it over to find it sealed with a wax stamp of the letter ‘H’ and a logo with “Hogwarts” and a Latin phrase underneath it. You looked at your parents confused. They just smiled at you encouragingly. You opened the letter but you didn’t read past the first sentence.

“Dear Miss Scott,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

A school of magic? You didn’t remember applying and you were pretty sure the British government expected you to have a proper education.

Your father took a deep breath and began a monologue.

“We’ve wanted to tell you for ages, you’re special. Your parents, your real ones, were a witch and a wizard. They do a different kind of magic to us, it’s more powerful. You’re just like them. And now you can go and learn how to perform and control it, it’s something you were born with. Your parents Ava, they died in a war in the wizarding world. They lost their lives protecting you and others like you. We are so proud you got in sweetheart!”