Cherry Pie

gonna kms rahhh okay smut time i surpose

Boyfriend!Sal who, despite your efforts, doesn't like taking off his mask during sex. You two are at a point in the relationship where, yes, he'd be perfectly fine taking his mask of around you, but he just doesn't think you seeing him drooling and panting would be appealing.

Boyfriend!Sal who is extremely sensitive. The first time you guys had sex, it lasted 45 minutes solely because he was trying not to cum every 20 seconds and kept whimpering about needing to stop.

Boyfriend!Sal who is not into degradation. like, period point blank. He'd feel so bad for shaming you, and there's a good chance he'd get all sad if you called him some demeaning name. That being said, he's definitely into reassurance/praise.

Boyfriend!Sal who almost cried when you said no to him playing metal music in the background.

Boyfriend!Sal who adores your body. Chest, stomach, thighs—you name it and his hands will already be there, watching his fingers sink into the skin with reverence.

Now, it wasn’t like they hadn’t interacted, of course they talked throughout the year, and studied in the library together. However, being in different houses helped with the distance that Neville wanted to keep. Y/n was a Hufflepuff, the house a lot of people thought Neville should’ve been placed in. Y/n thought otherwise, she trusted in the Sorting Hat’s judgement very deeply, her loyalty never faltered. 

Y/n loved her brother endlessly, and was happy to oblige with whatever wishes the boy had. So when Sirius Black had miraculously escaped from Azkaban prison over the summer, and Neville had insisted they would stay close together in fear of the man, she was glad to do just that to make him feel comfortable. She knew exactly why he was terrified, Sirius Black was the cousin of Bellatrix Lestrange, their parents’ torturer. 

While Neville had been the one to request her to stay away, he was also the one who gravitated towards her when he felt afraid–which was half of his time at Hogwarts. Y/n would never deny him anything, she was his big sister, how could she ever? So, even though they were not together for most of their time at Hogwarts, they had been seen around each other to note that they were in fact siblings, it was a mystery how none of his fellow lions seemed to realise it. 

It was the first breakfast of the term, the Longbottom siblings walked down the aisle arm in arm, hooked intertwined with each other. “Do you think Sirius Black would ever try to enter the castle?” 

“I highly doubt it, Nev. The castle is protected by talented Professors, it’d be an idiotic mistake to attempt to.” Y/n logically answered, visibly calming her brother’s nerves as they walked through the grand doors of the Great Hall. Y/n was very good at grounding Neville when he was feeling especially anxious. Y/n walked Neville down all the way to the Gryffindor table where his friends resided. “Alright, Neville, I’ll be off at Hufflepuff table, I’ll meet you at the courtyard for lunch, okay?” 

Neville nodded. “Alright.” Y/n nodded happily, before kissing Neville on the forehead, and turning her heel to leave. Neville went pink of embarrassment, one of the reasons he had asked Y/n to keep her distance was because she was very affectionate, hugs, and kisses on the cheek and forehead were her go to greetings, and biddings. Not that he minded, however things that seem little in private, and the comfort of your home seem different under the gazing eyes of your peers. 

Neville brushed it off, and sat down. “Morning guys.” He was now seated across from Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron’s older twin brothers Fred, and George. 

“Morning, Neville.” Ginny Weasley chimed from beside him, Hermione Granger echoed her one seat down. 

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Neville?” Said Ron, through his mouth of sausage. 

Neville, Ginny, and Hermione looked bewildered staring back at Ron. “Girlfriend?” Neville asked. 

Fred, and George looked at each other knowingly. “The Hufflepuff that just dropped you off.” Fred teased. 

“Meeting you in the courtyard for lunch?” George raised his eyebrows in amusement. He was quite a bit jealous of Neville, the Hufflepuff he had never seen before was quite gorgeous to him. The four boys laughed, and Neville looked at Ginny, and Hermione. 

“That’s his sister!” Ginny cackled, and shook her head. 

“Sister?” All of the boys said in a synchronised surprise, how is it that they’d known Neville for three years now, and had never known he had a sister?

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Do you ever pay attention? Her name is literally Y/n Longbottom. Honestly.”

“Older, or younger?” George asked, he was trying to see if it was appropriate to grow a crush on the girl. 

“She’s a fourth-year.” Neville answered. “We’re together all of the time…” Sure they hadn’t spent every waking moment together, but they were together enough to put two, and two together that they were related. Longbottom was a particularly easy name to miss. 

“A fourth-year?” Ron repeated. 

“Yes, Ron, he just said.” Fred jokes, causing them to laugh. But George was distracted, his eyes across the room looking at the boy’s brother. She was gorgeous, and there was something about her that made him want to find out more. He knew her last name, and that she was a Hufflepuff, but that was just about it.

“Oi, Georgie’s staring.” Lee whispered to Fred. Fred looked at his brother, and followed his gaze. 

“No way…” Fred whispered to Lee, Fred sat in between the two. “Georgie’s got it for Neville’s older sister!” 

After the first day of term, George had started to see the girl everywhere, in places he had never noticed her before. 

He began to notice her when she walked past the Gryffindor table with her friends in the mornings, and afternoons. He saw her on his way to Potions in the corridors while she was on the way to her next class as well. And most of all, in the library– well exiting the library when he was on his way back to the common room from Quidditch practice. He began to make it a point to try and see her whenever he could during these times. It was a small, simple crush, one he figured he would let go of once he realised she was the type of girl that would never give him the time of day for his personality that was seen as immature, and loud. 

George Weasley, and Y/n Longbottom were opposites, totally, and completely. 

2, Year 5, 1994

George Weasley thought that his crush on Y/n Longbottom would dwindle, but no…oh no. 

During the summer he hadn’t given her much thought, but once he saw her at the train station on September 1st, he remembered why he had liked her so much. She was glowing, and was with Neville. He berated himself for nor noticing her sooner. 

“Oi.” Fred whispered. “You’re staring.” 

George furrowed his eyebrows. “Am not.” 

“Are too.” Fred teased. 

“So what?” George rolled his eyes as they stepped onto the train. 

“So. You’ve got a crush on Y/n Longbottom.” Fred chuckled. 

“It’s not a crush…” George looked back onto the line of students waiting to also board the train. Her, and her brother were just a few students down from himself, and his own brother. “She’s just–” George tried to find the words. “Intriguing.” 

“So…you like her.” Fred shook his head, and shared a look with Lee. 

“Oh, he’s got it bad.” Lee snickered. 

Later on in the train ride, George really, really had to go pee. He wasn’t sure why he had held it for so long. Perhaps it was his extremely short attention span that made him put it off, afterall the conversation he, Fred, and Lee were having was quite remarkable. A conversation of which Slytherins they were to prank this year, and the mysterious “event” that was going to occur at Hogwarts. 

He was walking down the aisle extremely fast to get to the lavatory at the end of the aisle, that was so close, yet so far. He was walking so fast that he didn’t realise one of the compartment doors had opened, and a girl had walked out. In his defense, the girl was not looking into the hall either, and would not have seen the redhead that was zooming to the bathroom because her head was turned to her friend.

Of course, as all people do when they aren’t paying attention to their surroundings, the boy, and the girl crashed into each other. The girl George crashed into? Y/n Longbottom. Great, George thought to himself, not only did he need to pee extremely badly, he had also just embarrassed himself in front of the girl he had a raging crush on. 

The girl, being so different in body mass from him, fell straight to the floor. George was mortified. “I am so sorry–” Until she started laughing. It was melodic, and George could've sworn he’d just heard a chorus of angels sing. George let out a hand for her to take. 

She continued to laugh while she took it. “It’s alright. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She sighed, dusting herself off. 

George looked at her, no, not looked, inspected. He could not believe how that just played out. There was a moment of awkward silence, George forgetting how to function completely, even the feeling of the uncomfortable need to pee was gone. Finally he realised he hadn’t even checked on her. “Are you okay?” He asked, hoping she didn’t notice the effect she had on him. 

She nodded. “Nothing but a bruise on my bum, I’m sure.” She joked. She hadn’t really hit the floor that hard, she was fine. 

George nodded, and began to walk backwards. “Sorry again.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head, with a small smile. A small smile that went a long way for George, as his cheeks went pink once he turned around to make his way towards the lavatory again. 

Of course, there was a line he could now see as he approached. He curiously looked back, just to see if Y/n was still in the aisle. He wasn’t expecting her to be just a few paces behind him. He now realised she needed to use the restroom too. He internally panicked. Things had just been adding up, he needed to pee extremely badly, he had just practically knocked the wind out of the girl he had a very big crush on, and now after just knocking her over, had to stand in line for the bathroom with her. 

George gulped now that she was caught up to him, and standing in the line as well. He leaned on the wall, and looked up before huffing. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t expecting her to make conversation. 

He looked down at her, she looked really concerned. She could definitely sense his uncomfortableness. He nodded. “I feel like I should be asking you that, considering–” He wasn’t trying to make her laugh, but she let out a small chuckle. 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I'm a-okay, I promise.” She reassured him. The conversation went idle, before George gathered up his courage to keep it moving. 

“You’re Neville’s older sister, Y/n right?” Smooth George, ask her questions you know the answer to already, he mentally berated himself. 

She smiled at the mention of her little brother. “Yes, he’s my little brother, he’s in your house, and you’re one of the Weasley twins.” George opened his mouth to confirm which twin he was when she cut him off. “Wait, let me guess!” Neville had told her that whenever he wanted to differentiate the twins he always looked for a mold on either one of their necks, because George had one, and Fred didn't. 

She inspected his neck subtly, and quickly found the freckle Neville was talking about. “You’re George.” She confirmed. 

George raised his eyebrows in a pleasant surprise. “You’re right.” He chuckled at her excitement, albeit she cheated, but who cares? Not him. George was a little sad when the line got to him, and he entered the lavatory. 

Finally, he was able to empty his bladder. Once he got out, Y/n was patiently waiting outside of it for her turn. Y/n smiled, as she entered the bathroom. “I’ll see you around, George.” 

“Alright then.” He said, although immediately regretted it. Alright then? He could’ve said anything else, but that. He could’ve said, “See you around.” or “See you too” instead he said, “Alright then.” Before he could redeem himself, the lavatory door was already closed. 

He groaned. He was less of a lady’s man then his twin brother was, but he was still not bad when it came to getting girls in his court. What was it about Y/n Longbottom that made him so…nervous?

3, Year 5, 1994

The Yule Ball was in full swing, the date was confirmed for Christmas day, and the halls were buzzing on who was bringing who, or who they were asking. George was stumped. After the incident on the train ride to Hogwarts with Y/n, they had become good acquaintances. They waved to each other in the halls when they passed by each other– George had changed some of his class routes to align with hers, and they would even have short conversations in the mornings sometimes when she would stop by to talk to Neville. 

George was the last one in his friend group to not have a date. Lee was going to Alicia Spinnet, and Fred had coolly asked Angelina Johnson to go with him on a whim during study hall, leaving just him. 

George wanted nothing more than to ask Y/n to the ball. Especially when he’d caught wind that Ginny was going to the ball with Neville. Now that there was no Quidditch due to the Triwizard Tournament, he didn’t see her coming out of the library like he used to, but figured she might be there at around the same time. 

Last year practice would end at around 7:00 pm. So that’s where he went at 7:00 today. He went to the Library corridor, and waited for her to exit. He had it all planned out, he would make it look like chance that he was there when she came out, and then he would say hi, and bring up the ball, and ask her. It was simple, but he was nervous. Very nervous. 

Finally he saw her walking out of the library with her things. He walked opposite to her, and greeted her. “Y/n! Hi.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, she never saw George around the library anymore especially now that Quidditch was paused for the year. “Hi, George.” She had gotten pretty well at telling the twins apart, mostly because Fred didn’t really speak to her. “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh you know just walking, but– now that I have you here, I was hoping to ask you something?” George started, he could feel the words getting stuck in his throat. 

She nodded, she wasn’t even expecting the words that were going to come out of his mouth. “Yeah sure, what’s up?” She asked curiously, giving him her undivided attention, whatever it was it seemed important. 

George gulped. “I was just wondering if…” He paused, and she waited patiently. He took a deep breath. “If you wanted to go to the ball with me?” George immediately regretted even coming to the corridor when he saw the look of rejection flash onto Y/n’s face. 

“Oh…I’m sorry” She started, George sighed. “I really would’ve loved to, George. Truly. But someone’s already asked me to go, and I’ve already said I’ll go…with him.” She explained, a Durmstrang boy she’d gotten to know a bit from her Magical Creatures class had asked her just a couple of days ago. But she also would’ve loved to go with George if he had asked her sooner. 

“Oh.” George sighed, the sting of rejection was laced in his voice. “Well, that’s alright, then. I’ll just–” He turned to leave. But Y/n stopped him. 

“I really am sorry, George.” She said in a sorry tone. “I would’ve loved to go with you.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for. I guess I should be sorry for asking so close to the ball.” He scratched the nape of his neck, the ball was next week.

Y/n’s expression remained sour. “Maybe we both can be sorry.” 

4, year 6, 1995

George’s crush on Y/n had somewhat mellowed down this year. It was still very much there, but as they became closer friends throughout last year, her presence seemed to dull his big feelings about her. 

When he was abruptly woken up in the night to the news that his father had been attacked in the Ministry, he was distraught. Groggy, and achy he and his siblings made it to the headmaster’s quarters, where they had gotten news that his father was attacked brutally, but was found, and was now safe. 

Which led him here during his winter break. At St. Mungos Hospital to visit his father. Himself, Fred, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry walked aimlessly around the hospital, they weren’t allowed to visit Mr. Weasley until he had awoken. Mrs. Weasley had told them to spend their time “exploring”, whatever that meant. They’d gotten to a room, it had many old witches, and wizards in the room, the plaque on the door was labelled as, Permanently Magically Incapacitated. That sparked the group's attention, but their interest deepened more when Ginny recognised two people in the room. 

“Is that, Neville, and Y/n?” Ginny said to her brothers, and friends.

“Neville, and Y/n?” Ron repeated. 

Hermione peaked through the window’s blinds. “It is.” She pointed out. “And that’s their grandmother.” 

“Why are they here?” Harry asked, and the others shrugged. 

“We should say hi.” Ginny suggested, making her way to the door. Before any of them could stop her, she had knocked on the door, garnering the attention of Neville, and Augusta Longbottom. 

Somehow, in the five seconds it took for them to get to the room, Y/n had disappeared, which saddened George. Neville seemed nervous that they were all there. 

“Uhh oh! Hey guys.” He acknowledged them, once Ginny waved. His grandmother eyed him. “Oh, grandma, these are my friends, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George Weasley.” 

His grandmother, a tall intimidating woman, reminded George of Y/n. She had the same perfect posture, and the same piercing intimidating gaze. “Why are you here, Neville?” Ginny curiously asked.

“My parents live here.” Neville shortly said, he sounded scared to reveal the truth. 

“They live…here?” Harry asked. 

Neville nodded, he wasn’t expecting his grandmother to give them his parent’s whole biography. Towards the end of her long rant, George had caught sight of Y/n. He must’ve lit up or made a face, because his grandmother turned to where his gaze was. The sight was despairing, as Y/n walked arm in arm with a frail thin woman, she looked just how their grandmother explained how their parents ended up here. Insane from torture. 

“Neville, Mum has something for you.” Y/n quietly said, her face surprised to see all of the familiar faces looking at her. 

“Again?” Her grandmother said. “Very well, Alice, dear. Very well. Neville take it– whatever it is…Very nice, dear.” Her grandmother said to her mother. 

“Thanks, Mum.” Neville said, taking the small bit of paper from her hands. It was a gum wrapper. Y/n let out a small smile. 

In that moment all of the others realised why Neville was, the way that he was. And why Y/n was so protective, and respective of him and his boundaries. George admired Y/n at that moment. He realised she probably had to have had a lot of self resilience to have grown up the way that she did. 

George wanted to converse with Y/n, but her mother was pulling her elsewhere into the room. As if on cue, Neville’s grandmother had excused the two of them from the conversation. “Well, we’d better get back. Very nice to have met you all.” She began to follow Y/n and her mother. “Neville put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough to paper your bedroom by now.” George heard their grandmother instruct. 

Just as George was about to follow the others that were now filing out of the room. Y/n shortly told her grandmother something before calling out for him. “George!” She said, slightly jogging over. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” He smiled, happy that he was able to speak to her just for a bit. 

“Just wanted to say hi. But I ought not to keep your family waiting…” Y/n snickered, seeing an amused Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Fred staring at them through the window of the room. 

“Ignore them.” He rolled his eyes, there was an awkward silence between them, there was always an awkward air that surrounded them mostly due to George and his feelings for her, but also her blooming ones for him. 

“So, what are you guys here for?” She asked curiously, trying to fill the awkward air surrounding them. 

“Uhm, my Father. He was attacked while working in the Ministry. He’s okay though.” 

“I’m glad to hear. Well, I better get back to my parents. I hope your Father feels better soon.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it in comfort. “See you at school, George.” She smiled, before letting go of his hand, and happily walking over to her parents, brother, and grandmother. 

George had thought his crush on Y/n Longbottom had mellowed, but the way his heart pounded out of his chest from the way she held his hand. The feeling was something he’d never felt before. He’d held hands with tons of girls, kissed tons of girls, but never had they once made him feel how she did. 

When George had finally joined the others in the corridor outside, he was teased relentlessly, mostly by Fred, and Ron. However, he didn’t seem to care nor deny the fact that he did in fact have feelings for Y/n, because quite frankly it was undeniable now. George Weasley was deeply, utterly in love with Y/n Longbottom. 

5, year 6, 1996

After Dumbledore’s Army had been caught, George, and Fred had cracked a plan to end Umbridge's madness once, and for all. Of course, with the plan came dropping out of school, and beginning to work on their joke shop. 

Y/n was currently helping younger years with their wounds after having their detention with Professor Umbridge. As most Hufflepuffs were, and like her brother, Y/n was good with herbs, and plants. One of the plants she grew in her own dorm was Dittany, a plant that was used in many healing potions, and had many magical healing properties. 

She sat in the Gryffindor common room, because most of Dumbledore’s Army was Gryffindor students, healing the students’ wounds. George watched her, waiting for his turn, all of the older students collectively decided to let the younger students go first. They could handle the pain for much longer than the younger ones could. 

Y/n looked like she was in her element, healing people. She had once confided in George that she wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos. He could definitely see it. George admired how she could be so maternal at her age. She was very mature. It made George insecure about his feelings towards her, he felt they would never be reciprocated just because they were so different. 

But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Y/n had grown to like George just as much as he liked her, only she was a little bit better at hiding it. It was apparent to everyone except the pair of them. George was next in line for Y/n’s healing. 

They conversed while she did her routine. A couple of drops of essence of Dittany, and then a wrap to prevent irritation. She would’ve done it faster, but because they were conversating she moved a bit slower than usual. 

“How bad is it doc?” George joked, as she dropped the Dittany onto his skin. 

“Horrible, I think you’ll need extensive care after this one.” She played along, now wrapping his wounds with medical tape. 

“I don’t know doc, I think a kiss on the cheek would do it for me.” He was feeling bold, but he wasn’t expecting her to actually kiss his cheek. 

“There, all better?” Y/n asked, her voice was almost teasing. George nodded dopily before allowing the next person to be healed. 

“Why don’t they just get together already.” Ginny asked her brothers, Harry, Hermione, and Neville, watching Y/n start her healing routine. Neville looked shocked. 

“Together? My sister?” Neville questioned, he noticed they were friends now, but it went completely over his head that they liked each other. 

“They flirt with each other all of the time,” Ginny chuckled, and the others agreed. 

“It’s sickening.” Ron added. “George reckons she doesn’t like him back. That’s why he’s so afraid.” 

“Y/n doesn’t really…date. At least from what I’ve seen.” Neville said, now keeping his eyes on the pair, he looked away for a split second. 

“Are you sure about that?” Fred asked, as he looked at his flustered brother. Y/n had just kissed George on the cheek. 

Neville was very unsure.

6, The beginning of the war, 1997

After the twins dropped out of school Y/n hadn’t seen much of them until she joined the Order of the Phoenix as a healer after she graduated. Her parents were a part of the original Order, it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when she happily accepted the invitation. 

George had long forgotten about his crush on Y/n, thinking about her from time to time– it’d been over a year since he’d last seen her. Until he saw her at one of the Order meetings for the first time. All of his feelings came flooding back. She looked older, her face had matured, and somehow she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her head was tilted back as she laughed with Tonks while they waited for the meeting to begin. 

After the meeting concluded, they had a short conversation catching up on their time spent apart. “Longbottom, long time no see.” He cheekily said.

“Hello, George.” She chuckled. “How have you been? I hear you’re a successful business owner with Fred. I knew you could make it out of selling from your trunks in the corridors of Hogwarts.”  

During their years at Hogwarts, George, and Fred sold their products from their dorms, small things like their canary creams. Y/n was the only Prefect that let them off with a warning every single time they were caught. 

George chuckled. “Yes, have you been? I would’ve seen you if you had.” 

“I have.” Y/n nodded, George was surprised, he greets every single one of his customers, he would’ve known if Y/n Longbottom walked into his store, in fact he would’ve been ecstatic to see her. 

“You have? Perhaps you walked in when I was on break. Trust me, I would’ve known if you were in my shop.” George seriously said, but Y/n laughed, making George’s heart swell, it was a sound he hadn’t heard in forever. 

“Fred greeted me when I walked in, so perhaps you are right. I was only there for a few minutes, otherwise I would’ve been late for my shift at St. Mungos. Very impressive what you two have done with the shop.” She informed him. George groaned, having missed her by a few minutes, he would’ve loved to see her sooner than he had now.”Congratulations.” 

“You too, you’ve always wanted to work at St. Mungos.” Y/n was taken aback that he remembered such a small detail about her. 

“Thank you.” She smiled, before catching a glimpse of the time. Her smile dropped. “I’m so sorry. I have a shift at the hospital now. I would love to stay and chat, but I have to go. I'll see you next time.” She smiled, and apparated away with a pop. 

George was left alone; he couldn't even say goodbye. Fred, and Tonks watched with amusement written all over their faces. “He still has a crush on her?” Tonks remembered in 12 Grimmauld Place, the other teenagers would tease George about his crush on the girl all of the time. Fred nodded. 

“Oh he’s in love.” 

That was two weeks ago. It was July 27, and tonight they were transferring Harry to the Burrow. Y/n was a stand on healer, in case anything happened. She was to wait at the burrow for the others with her remedies, and potions for any injuries that might have occurred during the transportation. 

Y/n hadn’t seen George since the meeting, but she was having a deep conversation with his mother as they waited for the others to come to the rendezvous point. Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were nervous. So was Y/n, the anxious air engulfed the room, so much so that after her conversation with Mrs. Weasley Y/n found herself on the front porch. 

The groups were late now, and Y/n was starting to worry. She looked up at the night sky if it were under different circumstances she would’ve thought the summer night to be beautiful, and calming, the way the crickets chirped, and the wind moved the grass. 

The calming sounds broke when the sound of the barrier being broken was heard. One of the pairs had arrived. Ginny was bolting out of the door, and running towards the approaching pair, it was Hagrid, and the real Harry. Y/n let out a small sigh of relief, however that was still six other groups left unaccounted for, one of them being George. 

“Harry! Hagrid!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. Y/n stood behind her with Ginny. “What happened, where are the others?” 

“Is no one else back?” Harry asked, and Y/n shook her head dimly. 

“They were on us from the start, Molly.” Hagrid explained, making Y/n’s stomach churn. “We didn’t stand a chance.” 

“Well, thank goodness you two are alright.” Mrs. Weasley said. 

“The Death Eaters were waiting for an ambush.” 

“Come inside, I’ll have a look at you.” Y/n said, while Ginny walked over to Harry. She figured she would let them come in on their own accord. 

They had barely made it a couple of steps towards the house before another pair came through the barrier with a loud whoosh, catching Y/n’s attention. 

“Here!” Lupin shouted, holding onto a bloodied Harry, transforming into one of the twins, not just one of the twins, George. 

Y/n went straight into healer mode, immediately rushing over to take the other arm of George to act as another crutch, although she wasn’t of much help due to Harry beating her to it. “Quick! Into the house.” Instead of waiting around, Y/n rushed into the house to grab her potions, and healing supplies. 

“Oh, my boy…” Mrs. Weasley said, making room for him on the couch. Y/n grabbed her wound-cleaning, blood replenishing potion, and calming draught for George,ignoring the ruckus from Lupin, and Harry. If it were anyone else she would have remained calm, but she was nervous having to care for George. Mrs. Weasley was hunched over George, but made room for Y/n once she saw her making her way over. 

Y/n placed all of her potions down. “Mrs. Weasley, could you please get me a warm damp towel?” Mrs. Weasley nodded, and made her way to the kitchen. “George, can you open your eyes, I need to see if–” 

George’s eyes opened as soon as she asked. “You’re beautiful.” He abruptly said. 

“You must be concussed…” She concluded, her wand was dimly lit. “Follow my wand please.”  George did as she asked perfectly, meaning he shouldn’t have been concussed. 

“I mean it.” George whispered, he had just almost died, and all he could think about is how he never asked out the woman he loved, out of fear. 

Y/n shushed him, her cheeks pink. “Let me care for you, and when you’re all better you can tell me all about it.” She grabbed her calming draught, and poured a bit into a small cup. “Drink this.” 

George drank it down with a big gulp, immediately feeling lighter, his tense body releasing. “This might sting just a bit.” She whispered, gently wiping away the excess blood from the side of his head. Her expression went even more serious when she realised George no longer had an ear. Still, he inspected her while she worked. She dropped a couple of drops of her wound-cleaning potion onto his wound. He winced. “Sorry, I know. I know.” She could feel the eyes boring into her now that more of the others had begun to arrive. 

She added the blood replenishing potion before sealing his wounds. “Vulnera Sanentur…Vulnera Sanentur…” She waved her wand around his head. Fred now kneeled beside Y/n while she cleaned up her supplies. She stepped away to give the brothers some space, and to grab her wraps to wrap his head. 

“How are you feeling, Georgie?” Fred asked. He still had a lot of blood in his hair, and on the side of his face. 

“Saint-like.” George answered. 

“Come again?” Fred confusedly requested. 

“Saint-like. I’m holey, Fred. Get it? I’m holey?” 

Fred shook his head, and smiled. “The whole wide world of ear related humor, and you go with, I’m holey. It’s pathetic.” 

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” George chuckled, and Y/n came back around with the wraps, and another wet towel to clean the rest of his blood. Y/n kneeled beside Fred, and from behind her heard:

“Mad-Eye’s dead.” Bill Weasley announced. “Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated. 

While they grieved, Y/n continued her job. Moody was a kind man, but a man Y/n hardly knew. She cleaned the rest of the blood off of George’s neck, and head. “Now that I’m all better, can I tell you how beautiful I think you are now?” George whispered. 

“You’re still in a daze, and medicated up. I doubt you’re not kidding me right now, Weasley.” She said, but a small part of her hope he was being serious. 

“I’m serious. I’ve had a crush on you since my fifth-year.” George confessed in a low voice. 

Y/n paused, before continuing to wipe the blood off of his skin. “Mrs. Weasley, he’ll need a change of clothes.” Mrs. Weasley nodded, and walked up the stairs. She began to wrap his head. 

“Let me take you out on a date.” George asked, lifting his head slightly off of the pillow so she could wrap his head.

“A date?” Y/n chuckled, but continued. “Where too?” 

The others shamelessly watched while the two flirted. Ginny, and the trio sharing cheeky glances. 

“Anywhere you want.” Y/n let his head down. 

“Anywhere?” Y/n confirmed. 

“Anywhere.” George nodded, although he was in pain, and a bit dazed, he knew he wanted this more than anything. 

“It took you almost dying to confess your feelings to me all of these years?” Y/n asked, realising how serious George was. 

George smiled. “Sounds about right.” 

“Alright, how about the Saturday after the next? If my calculations are correct, your ear should be mostly healed by then.” Y/n suggested. 

“Sounds like a plan, doc. But I think I’ll be fully healed if you kiss me right now.” George tried his luck, and smiled when Y/n leaned in. 

Y/n paused, her lips practically brushing against his. “Later, not in front of everyone.” She pulled away with a proud teasing smile. “You’re crazy, asking me to do such a thing in front of your family.” She chuckled. 

“Crazy for you.” He whispered. 

The first time one of the Sarentu survivors called you “Ma,” it felt as though the entire forest stilled.

The sound came from Teylan—half-asleep, trembling in the wake of a night terror. He was taller than you, all long limbs and growing strength, but in that moment he folded into himself, trying to make himself smaller. Safer.

You did not hesitate.

You guided him gently down, gathering him into your arms as your own mother once had. You rocked him slowly, humming beneath your breath, an old Trr’ong song, one you had not sung in years. One neither you nor So’lek had heard in what felt like a lifetime.

Still… it felt right.

“I am here,” you whispered, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. “You are safe.”

The word came then—fragile, instinctive.

“Ma…”

You froze. Not from rejection, but from the weight of it. What it meant.

Across the shelter, So’lek saw it happen. He said nothing. But something in his chest tightened… and then slowly settled.

After that, it became natural.

They gravitated towards you without thinking, drawn by something they could not name. Ri’nela sought you out to braid her hair, asking you to weave small decorations through it with careful hands. Nor lingered nearby, quietly asking for your voice when doubt crept in. Tamtey asked for nothing at all—only your presence beside him, silent and steady.

You gave it freely. Because you understood. There were wounds no medicine could reach. After Teylan, the others followed.

“Ma.” “Sa’nu.”

The names came easier each time. And you never corrected them. Never told them they were too old, too strong, too anything for that kind of tenderness. Because you knew better. Survivors did not outgrow the need to be held. You hadn’t.

“You coddle them.” The voice cut cleanly through the moment, sharp, controlled, artificial in a way that never quite felt alive. Alma Cortez stood at the edge of the camp, her dreamwalker form unnervingly still. Watching. Measuring.“They do not need you to play mother,” she continued. “Not you.”

You did not look up, only pausing briefly in your weaving. “They need to feel safe,” you replied simply.

Alma’s expression tightened. “They are not children. They are not your children.”

“No,” you said softly, finishing the weave with careful precision. “But they are not yours.”

That ended it—for now. But the tension lingered long after she left.

So’lek found you later, away from the others. You sat in the stream, hands submerged as the water carried away the remnants of the day. Quiet. Guarded. He approached without sound, as always. And as always—you knew.

“You carry them as though they are yours,” he said, crouching beside you.

“They are not,” you murmured. “But they have no one who is.”

A pause. Then, softer—more vulnerable than you usually allowed: “And I remember what it was to have no one.”

So’lek studied you—the strength in your posture, the gentleness in your hands. The way both existed without contradiction. He reached out, brushing a stray bead back into place along your braid. “You are… different with them,” he said.

You huffed faintly. “Is that your way of calling me soft?”

“Yes.”

You turned to him, mock offence flickering briefly—but it faded the moment you met his gaze. There was no judgement there. Only quiet admiration.

“I like this softness,” So’lek said, his voice low.

Your breath caught. “You do?”

“It is not a weakness,” he replied. “It is… something we nearly lost.” His hand found yours, rough palm against rough palm. “You remind them what it is to be cared for. To belong.” Silence settled between you—but it was not empty. It was full. Steady. Safe.

“They call me Sa’nu,” you admitted after a moment, almost shy.

“I know.”

“It should not mean so much.”

“But it does.”

Your gaze drifted back towards camp, where distant laughter echoed through the trees. “I do not want to replace what they lost,” you said quietly. “I only want them to feel they are not alone any more.”

So’lek shifted closer. “They do not see you as a replacement,” he said. “They see you as what they need now.” His thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles. “And so do I.”

That made you look at him properly. Not as a warrior. Not as a survivor. But as himself. “You?” you asked softly.

He nodded once. “You bring life where there was only survival.” Your lips parted—but no words came.

The forest hummed around you.

Alive. Listening. Waiting.

“When the RDA are gone,” So’lek said quietly, as though testing the thought, “what will you do?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I… do not know.”

A small, rare smile touched his lips.“I think you do.”

Your heart stumbled. “…Say it.”

He leaned closer, his voice lowering to something meant only for you. “Perhaps you will not only care for those who were left behind,” he murmured. His gaze softened—open, unguarded. “Perhaps we will have little ones of our own.”

The world seemed to still. Your breath hitched, something fragile and bright unfolding in your chest. “You would want that?” you whispered.

So’lek did not hesitate. “Yes.” Simple. Certain. Like everything he meant.

Your fingers tightened around his. “Then we survive,” you said, steadier now. Stronger.

“For them,” he agreed. “And for us.”

From the distance, a voice called— “Ma!” You smiled before you could stop yourself.

“I should go,” you said.

So’lek released your hand, though reluctantly. “I will watch over you.”

You squeezed his fingers once before slipping away. “I know.”

And as he watched you return to them—kneeling among them, laughing softly, gathering them close as though they had always belonged to you— he allowed himself, just for a moment, to believe they truly did.

He stood where you had left him, the cool water slipping past his ankles, his gaze fixed on you amongst them. You did not stand above the Sarentu. You folded into them—into their laughter, their quiet questions, their unspoken needs—as though you had always been meant to fill that space.

Not as a leader. Not as a warrior. But as something far rarer.

“Sa’nu, look—” Ri’nela’s voice carried first, bright and eager as she held up a small cluster of woven fibres she had clearly attempted herself. Uneven. Crooked.

You took it as though it were something precious. “It is good,” you said gently, adjusting a strand with careful fingers. “But here—tighten this, or it will come apart.”

Nor lingered close, watching, before speaking low enough for only you to hear. “It is quieter today,” he said. “In my head.”

You glanced at him, something soft and knowing in your expression. “Good,” you murmured. “Then we will keep it that way.”

Tamtey said nothing, only settled beside you, shoulder brushing yours. That, too, was an answer.

So’lek exhaled slowly. He had seen many things in his life—war, loss, survival carved from nothing—but this…This quiet rebuilding.This fragile, stubborn healing…It was unfamiliar.

And yet, he found himself unwilling to look away.

“You stare again.” The voice came from behind him this time—sharp, measured. Alma Cortez stepped lightly across the ground in her dreamwalker body, though there was nothing natural in the movement.

So’lek did not turn. “I observe,” he said evenly.

Alma followed his gaze, her expression tightening almost imperceptibly. “They are becoming dependent,” she said. “It will weaken them.”

“No,” So’lek replied. “It will remind them they are not alone.”

“They cannot afford that kind of attachment.”

“They already have it.” That made her pause.

“They need discipline,” Alma insisted. “Focus. Not this… illusion of family.”

So’lek’s jaw tightened slightly. “It is not an illusion.”

Alma’s gaze flicked back to him. “You think this will last?”

“I think,” he said slowly, “it is the only reason they will.”

She did not answer immediately. And in that silence, the distance between what she understood—and what she refused to—felt vast.

“They are not children,” she said again, quieter now.

“No,” So’lek agreed, his gaze never leaving you. “But they should have been.”

That left her with nothing more to say.

By the time So’lek approached the group, the light had shifted.You looked up as he neared—always aware, always attuned—and something in your expression softened further.

“You have come to join us?” you teased lightly.

“I have come to see if they will allow it,” he replied.

Ri’nela brightened immediately. “You can sit.”

Nor gave a small nod.

Tamtey shifted just enough to make space.

You smiled at that—soft, pleased—and reached out, your fingers brushing briefly against So’lek’s wrist as he settled beside you. A small touch. But grounding.

“They were telling me about their training,” you said.

“Were they?” So’lek glanced between them.

“Yes,” you continued, amusement threading your voice. “Though I suspect some details were… altered.”

Teylan looked mildly offended. “They were not.”

Nor muttered, “They were.” Ri’nela laughed. And just like that—lightness.

So’lek watched you again, but this time from within it. The way your laughter softened the edges of everything around you. The way they leaned into it. The way he did, without even realising.

Later, when the others drifted away one by one—drawn by food, rest, or the quiet pull of evening—you remained where you were, your gaze following them until the last disappeared into the trees.

“You worry,” So’lek said quietly.

“I care,” you corrected. A pause. “…But yes.”

He shifted closer. “They are stronger than they were.”

“I know.”

“And they are not alone.”

Your shoulders lowered slightly. “I know,” you repeated, softer.

The sky dimmed above, the forest settling into its night-song. For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, quietly: “If we have children…” Your voice wavered—not with doubt, but with the weight of hope itself.

So’lek turned slightly towards you. “They will not know this kind of fear,” he said. It was not a wish. It was a promise.

You studied him, something deep and searching in your gaze. “And if they do?”

“Then they will not face it alone.”

That settled something in you. He could see it. The same way he had seen it that first night, when a single fragile word had changed everything.

“Sa’nu!” The call came again—faint, but insistent.

You huffed softly, though your smile returned just as quickly. “They will not let me rest.”

“No,” So’lek said, a trace of warmth in his voice. “They will not.”

You rose, brushing your hands lightly against your thighs before glancing back at him.

She will go hours, even days without eating, only to gorge herself when she has an over abundance of it. Or she'll hide away food around camp or the region, though those tend to be more RDA rations or dry nuts and meats. The other's also have a similar relationship with food but since they have more help, being at HQ and other people, they've been getting more help than Tamtey has.

Surprisingly it's not So'lek or the people at the resistance that notice her relationship with food. Instead it's Ka'nat, Nefika, and Etuwa that notice first, as they're the people she interacts the most in the beginning.

Nefika sees how she buys multiple plates from Relun, the man looking over Tamtey's shoulder in concern, most of them are long lasting meals or meals that can feed multiple people. Later she has hunters telling her that they saw her portioning out the food into smaller and smaller piles, then wrapping them in leaves and clay to be stored for later.

Etuwa notices how Tamtey follows food with her eyes but never daring to ask for even a bite, or how she'll flinch when she's been "caught". When she's able to convince Tamtey to take a plate and eat she tries not to make it obvious that she notices how quickly Tamtey eats, like she's afraid it'll be taken away.

Ka'nat grows concerned, though he won't show it at the time, of how Tamtey will never touch food or drink around him, unless he orders her to. Once she sat by what could be a small banquet during a meeting with him for hours, never once looking at the plates or showing interest, he could hear her stomach growling.

The three decide that they're going to do something about it.

Etuwa goes to Itu asking him to help take Tamtey on more hunts and help the woman portion out and dry the meat so she has a better store available. He tries to complain but changes his tune when she explained why, he even goes so far as to take Tamtey gathering and give her part his kills too.

Ka'nat starts to make sure that they eat before meetings, asking to speak with her when she is at Hometree. He passes it off as wanting to keep track of her progress against the RDA and her involvement with the Aranahe camps. Slowly he stops to order her until she no longer waits for his "permission".

Nefika makes her sit and gossip with her Kitangi, she'll even drag Etuwa in, making sure she has food and drinks. She'll play the "look at you so thin, we must fatten you up" card like a pro. Cooking with her and teaching her foods that are more nutritious and can't be stored for long, this is to make sure she eats them within a day or two instead of hoarding it.

They even get the camps involved, people will make her sit and feed her small portions, adding more and more to her plate as she eats until she's eaten a full meal. Hunters will go into her stashes and make sure the food hasn't spoiled or will add to the small bundles.

Slowly Tamtey stops hoarding and gorging herself, she starts to take actual breaks to eat and actually enjoy her meals. Her stashes dwindle, though never fully disappear. And she starts to share more off her plate then eat it in fear of it being "stolen". Soon she starts contributing more of her food to the camps and Hometree rather then hiding it.

When she goes back to HQ So'lek now makes sure she's eating real food, three times a day, and he doesn't hide the reason either. Because of course he'd got informed by the trio of how toxic and damaging Tamtey's relationship with food had gotten and realizing that, if not for the others still being at HQ, how much more damaging their own relationships with food could have become.

"You are free now Sarentu, no longer will you be starved by those who stole you, nor will I stand by and let you to be starved because of the scars of their abuse."

And the look hed given Alma when the trio informed him could only have been described as soul scorching; riping her a new one when no one was around.