Jxwrites

I just reached 50 likes overall, and I would like to just say thank you to everyone who has ever interacted with my stories and liked them enough to like/reblog! I am super grateful, and hope to have more writing out in the near future.

My indents are still not saving :(

Chapter 9

The cameras clicked incessantly as quills wrote furiously charged by the journalists thoughts and words. Everywhere she looked were flashes, and she couldn’t believe her friends- especially Harry and Ginny- had to deal with this most of the time they were out. Ginny had to almost threaten the photographers when they had gone for coffee, and she had sat back and chuckled. Gin was the one witch you did not want to mess with. She refocused as she stood by her team, and smiled- aching for a drink and her muscles to relax from the plastered on grin. Her purple dress glimmered wrapping around her chest, and flowing down to rest on the floor. Her heels were high, and she felt like a million galleons- but Merlin she just wanted to be out of the cameras reach for a few moments. 

Her discovery of Magnifique spread fast and wide, and the museum of Magical Artifacts, threw a party in recognition of herself for finding the relic, but also her team who she insisted take some credit, as they helped her break the curses and spells surrounding it. It was what allowed it to be seen by the masses safely. Champagne glasses were flowing- and refilling- the general merriment soothed her emotions after they finished swarming her. She was happy however, as she now was featured in the paper, a clipping she kept in her box of memories. Her efforts were realized, and she, as well as her team, were reaping the benefits. She smiled as she surveyed the area, grinning at the photographers now swarming the front. It seems as though they have finally arrived. 

Ginny wore a red gown that accentuated her curves, and had intricate details on the number, beside Harry in maroon himself who rested a hand at her waist. They were every bit a beautiful couple, and it was amazing how much they had survived to be there. Next came Hermione and Ron, who were definitely more introverted. From where she stood, she could see Ron puff his chest and Hermione giggle at his buffed bravado. She kisses his cheek shyly and he deflates, wrapping his arm around her waist, smiling small and proud. It would be beautiful if she didn’t want to tear her own heart out at the sight of the wonderful couples. She took a large swig of her Margarita, when Ginny bounded to her. She hugged her fiercely, and her eyes shone with pride. 

“My beautiful best friend has found a priceless legend, you deserve the world and more!” she lifted her glass that she was handed by a waiter. 

Laughing, she cloned her glass, as Harry floated behind her finally catching up to the speedy witch, “So proud of you and Bill. It’s about time you Cursebreakers get your fame.” 

He hugged her and she grinned. Harry and Ron were aurors themselves, but they had always been fascinated by the work of hers and Bills’. She remembered the first time they had come into her office, the rest of the team- sans Bill- almost fainted. Same happened when the girls visited, it was quite funny to see Ben get turned down by them and Fleur. Bill had not liked any of Ben’s advances, and suddenly the hair on his head turned a neon color, whenever Ben was around them. 

It was quite funny really. She did have him remove it tonight however, as all of them would be there and there would be pictures. He begrudgingly acquiesced. 

Hermione and Ron came next and they did almost the same as Harry and Ginny, but were interrupted as the twins made their presence known. The group slowly moved aside as Fred hugged her, and congratulated her. George hung back, smiling, though she knew he felt out of place. They hadn’t really seen each other after their breakup and when they did, it was purely pass and go. He had tried to talk to her once, while he was still with Angelina, but she turned him down cold. She felt a bit bad afterwards, but she couldn’t stomach the stranger undertone it possessed. She broke away from Fred and touched Georges’ arm, ignoring the jolt she felt. She walked past him after, but it was a silent confirmation that she wasn’t angry he was there. She felt him relax under the small touch, and pushed away the implication.

An hour later, the dancing started and the glass floor was filled with couples, slowdancing  to the waltz she remembered from the Yule ball. Her eyes glazed with memories of a faint past, as a throat cleared in front of her. Inwardly groaning she looked up and was greeted by none other than Roger Davies. They had spoken a bit after their fun at the club, but maintained that friends was probably the best option for them. He put his hand out as an invitation, and she took it, rather than just standing on the sidelines feeling morose. They glided onto the dancefloor, and talked about everything and nothing at all. She giggled at his jokes about her dancing skills, and she made some of her own at the sheer amount of gel in his hair. He explained that he was there since he worked for the museum, and after hearing what she had done, had to come to congratulate her. She smiled in thanks, and as the song changed, she felt the shadow of a tall man in her periphery. 

“May I cut in?”

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George POV 

“May I cut in?” 

His voice was calm but his interior was a roiling stew. He masked his nervousness, as he prayed she wouldn’t turn him down in front of Davies. He knew she had every right to decline, but he prayed against all odds, that she would give him one dance. Just one. His hand hovered for a  few seconds that felt like minutes, his heart falling to the floor with each tick in the clock.  Until she thanked Davies and slid her warm hand into his larger one. She stepped into his space, and he was floored.The violet dress she wore hugged her and let her go in all of the most amazing places, and as he positioned his hand at the small of her back, he bit back a groan. Her eyes were searching, blocked off, yet not cold. It was an improvement and he would take what he could get. They swished alongside the other couples, eyes meeting then darting away. She seemed to have more courage than him at the moment as she cleaved the silence between them in two, “This has to be the first time you’re quiet for this long, you know?”

His eyes met hers and for the first time, he saw a spark of laughter reflected in her eyes. His eyes burned as he spoke, 

“Maybe.” A lilt happened in between the word, and he felt her body stiffen under his hand. He winced as well at the familiarity, but he couldn’t help it. It was new territory for them. She looked away, and the song entered its second refrain. 

“How have-”

“Don’t. Don’t ask how I have been. We both know you aren’t truly interested.”

“But I-”

“I’m sorry. That was a bit rude, I hear you’re in the ditch as well.” 

It caught that she was referring to his breakup, which she most likely heard from Bill. The busybody looked surly, but loved to gossip all the same. While his face had a grimace, she caught it, “Sucks. Doesn’t it.” 

She laughs, but her eyes betray sarcastic mirth, something she usually resolved for idiotic blokes like Maclaggen, who he saw get put down none too gently, when he said the most backhanded pickup line known to man while she was getting her next drink. He had almost spit his drink in laughter then, but now, aimed at him, it made the butterflies in his stomach drop dead like stones. “I was an idiot,” he intoned, “ Deserved that one, I did.”

She nodded thoughtful, “The song’s coming to an end now. Thank you for the dance.”

She curtsied stiffly, and left him standing there as the orchestra began to pack up, giving way for the next act. His hands were still warm from her touch and body, his lips tingled with words unsaid. Bill had appeared over his shoulder the minute she left swirling Fleur, and whispered, “I told you. It will take time. If she deigns to give you a chance? You will earn it, brick by brick.”

He didn’t need the reminder, but he knew it was true. He would try his hardest. 

Long time no see! I apologize for the long hiatus, I had a lot of reflecting and some rough waters for a bit, but I am back now and am excited for anyone who is still reading this to hopefully love what's coming up. Here we go!

Chapter 8

Her brows pulled in concentration as she slowly rotated her wand in exertion, the spell levitating the object so everyone in the circle could look at it.

“Look at the curvature, the depth of the marks. It seems chiseled, with tools stemming from what looks like the 17th century- date is now confirmed. The glowing light, from no other source than its own, the multifaceted that seem to change as the days pass. It matches.” They had dated the artifact, but were making sure every aspect was right. If they messed up, it could lead to countless complications, “This truly is the Magnifique!” 

Gasps full of awe sounded as the group watched it touch the covered table. The artifact, a rare geode of amethyst, is said to be able to grant those who drink from it, endless beauty and thus power. On one side it is a cove of wondrous  purple crystals of all shades which glimmered with what looked like its own light source, on the other it was dense and blackened rock, engraved with its name and symbols in ancient French. Bill and the other cursebreakers stepped forward as they now focused on the curse that surrounded it. Legend has it that someone rejected the Geode, because it did not “work” for them, and cursed it as a result. It was lost in memory, until it was dug up on her most recent dig that took her to the French countryside. She had stayed with Fleur, and it had been a wonderful reprieve. They had gossiped long into the night and she answered honestly to the somewhat blunt Fleur, when the subject had inevitably went to George. Her heart truly had begun to heal, and Fleur assured her that the guilt with moving on, comes with new opportunities. As well as that she would be there for her every step of the way, seeing her as an offshoot of her own sister, Gabrielle. They had drunk wine in celebration almost every night, whether it be from breaking ground, or just the fact that they were in France. 

When she found the Magnifique, she honestly didn’t know what to think. She had known the legendary item, but it was well and truly lost for centuries- no person alive has ever seen it. She could feel its power in waves, the mark of her cursebreaker abilities. She felt it too powerful, and too prudent to wait for her portkey that was due in a week's time, and she hastened for one to be made for her by the ministry in France. Once she landed back in Gringotts, she burst through like a woman on a mission. She hollered at the top of her lungs, and honestly probably scared half of them out of their boots. They had come running, and when they laid eyes on the artifact, their jaws slacked, anger at her interruption gone on the breeze from the slammed open doors. 

“This can’t- no way…” Bill spluttered, “This is what she was hiding from me?” His awe was evident and she was grateful Fleur had waited to tell him, until she could show him herself. 

“How did you manage to… Are we sure…?” Ben, a cursebreaker who joined the team at the same time she did, also mumbled, but she didn’t even think he meant to say it out loud. Thus they did all of their research they could and spent long hours, days, and weeks confirming their suspicions. 

Which led them to the present moment. Wands raised, they sent searching spells to look into the mechanics of the curse, and each of them seemed to come up blank. 

“Could it be a made spell, one uniquely of the witch or wizards own making?” Serene, a witch who was a year her junior, contemplated.

“No, it feels somewhat familiar,” Bill shook his head, “almost as if there are layers, of different common spells masked to seem bigger- and more dangerous- than it is.”

She sent out her own searching spell, one she had worked on with Bill, tweaked to look even deeper, for any markers good or evil. Sometimes, the good clues can lead to bad answers. She locked onto the innermost spell and was able to see layer by layer different spells that required a lot of magic to cast. When her spell reached completion, she looked up, and locked eyes with Bill. 

“It seems as though there are good and bad spells laid on top of one another, making anyone who looked at it shy away because of the sheer amount of magic. But the caster had enough malice to full-heartedly mean the curses which will make this ten times harder to break.”

Bill sent the same spell, and nodded. 

“She is right. We will make a gameplay and then tomorrow, we will take it on. Get some rest tonight. We will be spending a lot of magic tomorrow. Don’t make plans for the night either, I suspect that whether this goes right or wrong, we as a group will need drinks after.”

After hours of meticulous planning she trudged to her office’s floo and landed in her home. Its emptiness gnawed at her. Though she was healing, having great news like this without George to share it with and snuggle into, made a pit in her stomach.

Damp from the shower, she laid in her bed, hoping for a dreamless, nightmareless sleep.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Bill counted up to four, and then they were off. She was paired with Ben, while Serene and Bill were adjacent to them. Her and Ben were to disable the worse spells, and the others were to eliminate the good spells layers, while also keeping the Magnifique in the air. The curses they had to deal with howled as they disappeared and the others disappeared in wisps of beige,  as if to say they weren’t completely pure in their dealings. After about two hours of laborious spelling and counter spelling, Ben and herself were at their knees, their overuse of magic teeming them with exhaustion. When the final curse cracked, its whispers of jealousy and envy cracked through the tension filled air, and as they levitated it to the table once more, they all fell down in their respective spots gasping for relieving breaths. As Bill and Serene, got their bearings, Ben slouched against the table, Serene went to him soundlessly. Concern on her face, she helped him up and brought him to her office where he could rest. 

Bill walked to her, and she grappled with reality for a moment. She was so incredibly tired, that she didn’t complain when Bill helped her up and brought her to her own office’s couch. 

“You guys should see healers tomorrow to make sure you didn’t expel too much at one time. I could’ve helped, I should’ve-”

“No. you had to be with Serene because she is somewhat more new to this, and Ben had to be with me because we have also worked together lots of times to fix what needed to be fixed. It was right, just tired is all.” Her consciousness ebbed the minute she landed on her button couch, and all became pitch black. 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

George had been to the Primary at St. Mungo’s just for a checkup after he tested yet another one of their products on himself, and he was leaving as they wheeled her past him, a dazed look in her eyes. Panic trampled every other feeling as he turned around and went straight after her, wondering what bloody went wrong- he knew her avenue of work was dangerous, but it always scared him when she ended up here. Her name left his lips and she turned towards him, eyes sharpening for a moment and then cooling. No warmth, just tired. She lifted a hand to follow her as she was wheeled to the room, and he went, no questions or quips flowing past his lips. After the healers left, she cleared her throat, 

“While it is none of your business, I just lifted some heavy curses off of an artifact of great importance, and it took a lot out of me and my partner. Ben is also being treated here, we just needed IV’s to help replenish our magic quicker. When it breaks in the news, I reckon you’ll understand then.” Her small prideful smile is the first one that he has received from her since the break up, and it quells some of his panic. She fell asleep as they induced her into a dreamless sleep, to speed up the process, and he sat there numb. Seeing her hooked up to an IV was scary, and he's seen her in worse shape after an expedition. He stood, knowing she wouldn’t want him there, and apparated to Gringotts, to check on his brother, and get the story. His breakup with Angelina plagued his mind in the month since it happened, but his heart also had never truly let up with the pain from leaving the woman currently in the bed. His romantic life was a spluttering mess, but George would find a way to win back her affections- even if he could only have a fragment of her, it would be enough. 

Her absence hurt more than anything lingering to do with Angelina.

Been trying to think of how I want the next few chapters will go and also had to do some things for my personal life… but i promise that I’m still updating and it will most likely be more than 10 chapters because a good grovel >>> than a rushed ending in my opinion.

Thank you for your guys support and hope to update soon📑👩🏻‍💻

My indents won't save here for some reason atm, I'm sorry if it looks blocky. TW: None (I don't own any character or reference to the Harry Potter World)

Link to Chapter 6

Chapter 7 

George Pov 

He bustled around the kitchen, finding it curious the Fred’s coffee cup laid untouched in the cupboard. Usually he was up before him, too eager to get his impulses and ideas written out. Coffee was often splattered onto their parchments. He looked over his shoulder at the pristine couch, and the fact the Fred’s door was slightly ajar. He decided to snoop, because well, it was out of character. His twins bed was empty, and he was puzzled even further. He knew deep down Fred was okay, but just missing at the moment. Probably at someone’s house. Angelina didn’t end up going home with him, as Fred probably thought, because she had work early in the morning so she insisted she go home. When he arrived home he was still tipsy, and he went right to sleep. 

He trudged back into the kitchen, as the door swung open, revealing a surprisingly refreshed twin. 

“Where have you been?” George questioned, waggling his eyebrows to the best of his abilities.

“None of your business, loverboy.” Fred replied as he plopped on the couch, content to fiddle with his wand for a few moments, “Where is your girlfriend?”

“She needed to go home, because she has an early day of training for her new job. But don’t deflect, git.”

“ I was at my best girl friends’ apartment, after I found her basically a puddle in Davies’ arms” 

George stopped wiping the table, and just stared at his twin, “What?”

“She was piss drunk, and she stumbled, it was quite funny to watch really.” He chuckled at the memory, “Like a baby duckling that one is.”

George could picture it, but irrational jealousy washed the humor of the situation. Of all people, Davies. Her ex-boyfriend, and the only one who also shared a real history with her. He gripped the towel instead, and stared into space.

“Why were you at her apartment until now?” George questioned, a little harder than necessary. 

Fred scoffed, and just moved forward.

“You know you have no right. You saw them too, didn’t you?” Fred questioned him, and his eyebrows rose. 

“How-?”

“She told me she saw orange hair, but since she only saw that, she thought it was me.”

“Oh.”

“She almost went to go say hello. Imagine that.” Fred scoffed wordlessly saying it would’ve been a disaster, and left to seemingly lay down in his own bed. 

A disaster.

Sure.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The store was slow as it was technically off season,as students were off at Hogwarts. Products still flew off the shelves by adult pranksters, and people who just need a laugh, but for all intents and purposes, George was allowed to be in his thoughts. Angelina had been by earlier that day, and snogged him so much he almost forgot his own name but her eyes averted from his during their small conversation before she breezed out of their shop. Almost as if she was avoiding something. He made a note to ask her later that night when he went over to hers, as he usually did after his shift.                       

He decided to not have her over his own flat that much as Fred had some choice opinions about her, especially after the Burrow. He ran his hand through his hair, as remembered how easy it was before. They were almost always on the same page, and when she felt anything, she was straight with it. Angelina seemed skittish, and his suspicion only grew. 

The bell jangled over the door, and as he sent a cheer as a greeting, he dropped his pen and it nearly rolled right off the tabletop. There she stood, outlined by the dim grey light streaming in from the windows. 

“What can I-” He started, but closed his mouth when he saw her shocked but cold expression. It wasn’t anger, more so exasperation. 

“Lets not pretend we don’t know each other.” Her voice lacked warmth and suddenly his stomach felt itself turning over. He nodded, and there was a tense moment before his twin bounded down the stairs. He waved goodbye to George, and the two of them ventured out into the street. She didn’t even send a farewell wave. That’s who she came here for, He thought ruefully. He remembered Fred saying he was going for drinks, but he assumed it was with someone else. Not her. He knew they were simply friends, but his head hurt more as he thought about it more. 

Afternoon turned to early evening, and George closed the shop for the night. He threw on a jumper and baggy jeans, and apparated to Angelina’s. He knocked on the door. Once, then twice. She came to the door, wearing a simple nightgown, and welcomed him in with a hug. He sat on her couch, as she seemed to be deep cleaning, pitching a fit with her eyebrows seemingly every time she spotted a speck of dust. 

“Ange, you’re fluttering around like a fly more than a butterfly at the moment, its making my head dizzy.” He joked to break the silence, but she jumped, as if the silence was great for the moment.

He frowned as he stood, walking to her as he gripped her hand softly. She looked at him with her big eyes, and he saw something that stalled his breath. Something that he knew well, because he knew the feeling himself. Angelina’s eyes brimmed with tears as she spilled her guts, grasping his wrists, “I. I have to go back to France.”

“What? You said you were back here permanently!” His tone bled with betrayal.

“I know I said that, because at the time it was true. But I have been offered a spot on their quidditch team, and I can’t just- not.” She whispered onwards, “but we can write, we- we can travel to each other when we have time, and-” 

He untangled himself from her, snorting at his own actions. Kicker was, he couldn’t bloody blame her. This was her life and a dream career. She wouldn’t have to be in the office like she is now. 

“I understand your reasoning Angelina. But I don’t think we can do long distance.”

“No. No we can- we can just let us have time to fi- We can Portkey, it doesn-” She stuttered out anything she could grasp as tears flew down her face.

“No you don’t understand. I cannot do that, I am not built for it. I love cuddles and warmth and you can’t exactly do that with miles between us. What we had for these months is special, but it seems as though fate itself is against us.” He choked out the words, but they also fell flat, as if his humor and good nature had been drained from him.

Probably one of my fave chapters atm... TW: Drunk character (I don't own anyone from harry Potter or any reference to anything from that world)

Link to Chapter 5

Chapter 6

     Her hair draped over her bare shoulder, as she held onto the bicep of the man in front of her. She smiled like she used to, even if it wasn’t fully genuine. It was 80 percent though. Davies had been her boyfriend her fifth to sixth year, and when George put two and two together, he almost fell over. They had a conversation about it, and she laughed as he took his time to process as if he hadn’t had a girlfriend before. Now look, she obviously was not the one that should’ve been worried over. Her and Davies relationship ended quite peacefully, just growing apart, and better off friends. Of course, the war happened and their correspondence waned to nothing, but it’s not like they couldn’t be friendly now. She had caught a glimpse of orange hair in the crowd, but figured it was Fred and that he was trying to woo some witch. She did not want to get in the way of that. So she pulled Davies with her, and they danced the rest of the night away. His face shadowed in rainbow colors of the lights, and hers shone with reflections of the stars charmed into the ceiling above them. 

       He managed to pull a good laugh out of her, and she was grateful. He was someone safe, and she knew she could let loose. They held onto each other, song after song, dancing with dashes of goofiness here and there. By the end of the night her heartbreak felt less painful. 

        They walked out of the main doors into the winter night, as Davies spoke into the night, “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“My head is,” she slurred, “a bit wonky at the moment, but I know I had a time. I really needed it.”

“Are you okay? Merlin, you may be pissed.” He chuckled at her expense and she pouted. 

“Of course not. Could you imagine that? Its definitely in your-” She slipped on a rock that jutted from the cobblestones, and he caught her just in time. They looked into each other's eyes, as she sobered slightly, eyes crinkling in the corners. A cough sounded to the side of them, and they looked over, the reverie broken. He righted her, just as her eyes focused on the ginger across from her. She squinted her eyes looking for discernable features. This one had one eye a smidge smaller than the other. 

“I believe I should probably take the lady home.” Fred stated, a hard coldness imbued in his tone. 

“I heard you were broken up and-” Davies started but she rolled her eyes. 

“That’s Fred, his eyes are the giveaway.”

“Don’t go telling everyone that now.” Fred’s humor had to make an appearance before sobering, “She is obviously pissed, and last I checked you do not know where she lives. So I’ll take care of her from here, as she still is basically my sister.”

Her heart clenched in her stupor.  Her mind was riddled with questions, and very tired. Davies looked like he was about to protest, but Fred was right. She had a fun night with Davies, but was not sure that she was ready to wake up on his couch. She would just ask Fred to bring her home. As she slurred a goodbye and promised to chat more, She stumbled toward Fred.

“Graceful, darling.” he sarcastically intoned, and she stuck her tongue at him. He just laughed. 

“Can you take me to my flat? I don’t think…”

Her hesitation spoke volumes.

“I understand. I’ll bring you but it seems like i’m taking your couch.”

Her stomach dropped with negativity before he finished, “You are way too drunk to be alone. If you choke and die, mum would be in the Prophet tomorrow morning.”

She laughed, and they apparated to the front of her apartment. She wiggled the key in the door and ran to the bathroom. Apparition and alcohol just don’t mix. Fred laughed at her from behind the door, and she stuck up a middle finger in his direction, even if he couldn’t see it. He grabbed some clothes for her as she washed up, and she knew he would torment her relentlessly after this. He really was like a brother to her. After hydrating and throwing up, she felt a little better. She levitated a blanket and a few pillows to the couch that she had extended, and gave Fred the all clear to use her kitchen or whatever he needed. She shut the door, and promptly fell into bed. 

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

“Morning.” Fred intoned, a lilt in the word and she knew she was in for it.

“Oh Davies, you must save me from the big bad rock! It tripped me! It trip-” His high pitched voice was cut off by the pillow swung towards his face from the resting place in her lap. 

“You shut up, please” Her groan flew through her system as she dealt with the worst of the worst hangovers of all time. She drank her tea, as she cooked up a spicy stew, her special hangover cure, “Do you want some?”

“You are the hungover one. While your cooking is great, I have a lunch I need to go to, so I will pass this time.”

She knew he just could not handle spice for the life of him. She made a second portion in a separate pot, and when she sat down for her own meal, she set one in front of him as well. He smiled at her with mirth, and she was glad she knew him so well. They ate in a comfortable silence, that subtly shifted to genial talk about the night before. 

He told her of how he was coming from their shop, to drop something off to a friend that lived down the road, when he stumbled across what he called, ‘a romantic scene fit for a story’. But her smile snagged, as she realized, “You weren’t at the club?”

“No. I didn’t want to encroach on their-”

Her blood ran cold. 

She had seen George. They had been within feet of each other, and she hadn’t even realized. 

“I thought it was you, but I didn’t bother saying hello, just in case you were trying to get with someone.” Your voice trailed, and his eyes grew to saucers. 

“I was not even drinking and I hadn’t put two and two together. Well, even if he did see, his bollocks deserves it. Can I tell you the honest truth?” 

She nodded, a bit lost for words. 

“I don’t like it. You spent years with him and with her, it had only been a few months. He brought her to the burrow yesterday, and she had a spat with Ginny, because she wasn’t open to her right away. She makes puppy eyes at me, thinking it’ll work because it works on George. But we are two different people!” His frustration shone in his voice, and her heart ached for him and Ginny. She clenched his arm in solidarity, 

“You’re right. I hate the way it happened, and I know it’s rough at the moment. But he chose her, bottom line. I have to find a way to move on too.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and he side hugged her, lamenting at their situations.

“So Davies?”

“I don’t know. It was nice to see him, and honestly he made my heart hurt a little less. I felt safe. I don’t think I could put a label on him yet.”

I love a good club scene in a fic <3 Tw: Drinking (I don't own any references or people in Harry Potter)

Link to Chapter 4

Chapter 5

George POV 

         It’s been 3 months with Angelina, and they were celebrating by going to a wizarding club that had opened on the corner of Diagon Alley. She wore a glittering gold dress that complimented her skin tone and he was wearing a white button down, partially unbuttoned, and comfy pants. They sat at a booth giggling and as the bass bumped, she busied herself with her compact, while his eyes roved the crowd. He heard a tinkling laugh to his left, and his neck near broke. His jaw fell open, as he saw her. Her hair was in waves, and her sparkling red dress hugged her in all of the right spots. He drank her in like a glass of water, and his brows furrowed. 

No, this was not like him. Angelina is his girl now, it’s disrespectful to her. His playboy days were over. It’s why I broke up with her in the first place.         

He refocused on Angelina as she put her makeup away, and allowed himself to be pulled to the dance floor. Her hands were on his waist as her back was to his chest and as he tried to lose himself in the music, his eyes kept wandering to his own disgruntlement. He caught sight of you again, standing at the bar with a brown haired bloke. Your smile was wide and open, and your eyes glittered all the way from where he stood. A stark contrast to his haunting dreams. A feeling roiled at the bottom of his stomach but he swallowed it down.

He refocused on his girl, and followed her hips as they moved against him. Just as he was almost successful at forgetting the presence that rocked him, Ange was pulling away as she saw an old friend of theirs, Alicia. She ran to her and after conferring with him, she stepped away to talk and dance with her friend. He went back to their reserved booth, which allowed him a direct line to the bar. She stood closer now to the man, her dress grazing his side as she laughed at something he said in her ear. His stomach was boiling now but there was nothing he could do. He watched as she clutched his arm and tugged him toward the dance floor, oblivious to his presence. Drinks in both of their hands, they danced to the rhythms, and his blood burned. It was irrational it was, but he couldn’t shake it. He saw her body writhing with the unknown man, and remembered his days of dancing with you. But he tried to refocus on Angelina, wherever she was. He caught her still with Alicia, oblivious to his turmoil. Turmoil that shouldn’t even be a thing.  His eyes involuntarily followed you again and this time, he about lost his seat. 

       She had left the man she was dancing with as he now danced with a blonde, and went back to the bar for another drink. Another man immediately took the spot next to her, as if all men now were drawn to her like a moth to a light. This man had brown hair that reached the bottom of his ears and a physique similar to Bills. He remembered being jealous of Bill once, but it faded after her reassurances. He was startled at the look in her eyes as she took stock of the man, and with no warning to his beating heart, she jumped haphazardly onto the man who swung her around in a little circle, arms banded around her waist. He caught her smile, one that used to be only reserved for himself, to the new man, and he couldn’t-his brain was at a loss. He gulped his fire whiskey as the man turned and he realized why. Roger Davies, a ravenclaw, just made his reappearance.

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

I have a few more chapters already written for "My Mistake, Love", and i could publish them all today, but I don't want to spam anyone... Should I?

I also want to say thank you for the likes and reblog, it means so much to me that you guys like my works and even if its just a few of you, I am glad to have you guys <3

tw: none

hello again! I hope you enjoy :)

Link to Chapter 3

Chapter 4

  She was running on fumes. Her hair stuck tangled in its natural waves, and her eyes were almost bleeding. 

          “You should get some rest, you’ve been here for almost 48 hours, sis.” Bill intoned at her door, as he stood where she knew he knocked, but she hadn’t heard him. They were trying to crack the mystery of a tome that couldn’t be opened, and they were stuck. She vaguely knew that she was starting to smell, even if that was not out of the ordinary out in the field for some of them, they tended to hyperfixate and neglect themselves at the best (worst) of times. But Bill was right, she needed to leave. Putting down the tome and sealing it into a secure drawer, she followed Bill out of her door. 

            In the muggy air they walked towards their respective buildings, as they had neighboring apartments. Hers was above a clothing store and his was above a cafe. He got the better deal she thought. They said their goodbyes, and she immediately stepped under the stream of water washing away her stress and overall neglect. Then she ran a bath for her claw tooth tub, and sunk into its depth. She took time to think about her past relationship, but didn’t stay too long. She had loved him. He was her first love. But when challenged, he left her- high and dry. As her heart ached she decided he wasn’t going to keep her down, because he hadn’t loved her the way she did. Wholeheartedly. Who knew when he stopped having feelings for her? When they had weakened? She had met him right before the war, spending months at the Burrow with Bill pouring over any documents or artifacts that could win the war, or at least help. Angelina had left him months prior. She didn’t want to dig into what she knew would hurt, so she locked it down and turned the key. 

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

        Soon enough a month had passed from the fateful day, and she, Ginny as well as Hermione sat in the Cafe under Bill's apartment. They had kept sending letters to each other assuring that their friendship hadn’t changed from both ends and their plan for this day. The cafe was decorated in Gryffindor red, and its coziness allowed for a serene comfort to envelope the women. Coffee and tea permeated the air as they sipped their drinks as they talked shop about their respective jobs and gossip going about the workplaces. When relationships came into the conversation, her coffee burned a bit hotter.  

         “How have you been? Truly, I bat bogeyed him once I found out, so anything you feel is justified.” Ginny flipped her straight hair over her shoulder.

She couldn’t stop the chuckle even if she tried. 

            “Honestly? I’ve tried to think about him less and less. It was obviously rough, and I have nightmares. But a part of me feels like, if he could be swayed from me, he must’ve not loved me to the extent he said. There are people I had a history with in Hogwarts that I have seen, and none of them even came close to George.” Her voice stuttered his name, but as she got nods from around the table, she knew she was right.

          “I think that’s a great mindset to have. Honestly, you’re gorgeous and have a great career, you’ll have men falling over themselves!” Hermione added, chuckling. She was right of course through experience, because each woman at the table had been hit on relentlessly-Honestly its a surprise Harry, Ron and George had never hexed any to oblivion as a result.  Whether it be by fans (Ginny), ministry officials who crushed on the soon to be minister (Hermione), and some coworkers who noticed the absence of photos of George, and his hoodie that always laid across her couch- There was almost always someone vying. She found comfort that they were opening her up to new love, knowing that it meant a lot to her. Being surrounded by such strong and powerful witches, who were telling her its okay to feel how she does meant the world- because even strong women have their moments.

She had dropped his things off to Fred a week ago, finally ready to part with items that had sentimental value. He frowned, but hugged her as if his life depended on it. She made a promise to him to stay in touch, and they planned to go out for drinks at the earliest convenience. 

I'm sorry for some delay, but am publishing a few chapters, as I continue writing :)

tw: There will be kissing throughout the story, but I don't want to spoil it before it happens every time, so please be warned if you are uncomfortable with that :)

(i don't own anything from the Harry Potter World)

Link to Chapter 2

Chapter 3

George POV

      Her voice had just finished breaking, and she turned on her heel. Her white dress, grass stained in places where he didn’t cover her on the ground. Her steps took her farther and farther, until her golden silhouette was swallowed by the next hill. He fell to his knees, and pain he knew he would feel took chunks of his heart. He knew she loved him, and he did too, but the scenario was too much of a chance. He liked to not have regrets and he knew, there was a chance he would. As he curled on himself, the dream disappeared and he awoke in a cold sweat. His heart raced, but his brain stuttered. I wonder how she is now. He gazed at the time, and realized that she would be up and moving getting to the office. He was immensely proud of her achievements as a cursebreaker.  Honestly even the fact that he pulled a cursebreaker, was astounding. But when Angelina appeared,it felt different, and he wanted to be true. He shook off the lingering doubt, and walked down the stairs to the shop. 

        Fred stood by with a cup of coffee, a drink his ex girlfriend had introduced to his twin, “Morning.”

         “Morning, Fred.”

          They went about their opening duties, and it was abnormally quiet. No jokes in the air, other than the obvious, and George  felt conflicted. 

           “I don’t agree with what you did. I understand fundamentally that you felt you were saving her, or that Angelina was the choice in your mind. But she was there for us all and a woman like that, comes once a century. Hopefully twice a century at least, but I digress. I have a feeling you’ll regret this one.” Fred hadn’t sounded so honest since we almost lost him. He said what George was thinking in the back of his head. He tried to push it away, and with feeble assurances in his mind, he pushed it aside. He threw a nod and little joke Freds’ way, and as they ducked upstairs to change for the day, he shook the feeling almost completely off of him. He and Angelina had a date at the end of the week, and he was looking forward to seeing her. 

     Days passed and soon enough, it was Friday, the fateful night that had George throwing his clothes around like a madman. He finally chose a maroon vest and a black button down, paired with suit pants. The place they were going to was classy and expensive, and they were meeting there. As he stepped into the green flames, his twins face of masked disappointment, seared into the back of his mind. 

        The restaurant was an Italian one, with white tablecloths, and a dark wooden interior. The lanterns glowed giving the air a sense of reverence, but George felt a bit out of place. He had money, but this was a new experience. He had never taken his ex to these places, because to them, this wasn’t their style. 

          Angelina wore a beautiful gown, maroon in color, a coincidence that had added fuel to his own thoughts of fate. They began to talk, about everything and nothing, as he began to get more comfortable. They fell into the lull of their old relationship as if no time had passed.

           Walking her home had been a quiet but content walk, and as they stepped to her porch, she kissed him on his cheek, sending a zing to his nerves. 

          He walked home head high. 

I found cursebreaking pretty cool after reading some stories with it, so i thought the dynamic between George and a cursebreaker would be pretty cool. A lil short but sweet, the next few chapters are going to be more, I promise. TW:none Click here for: Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

      Her tear ducts were officially dry. The canals of her tears leave only salt in their wake. Her face feels swollen and her heart, felt as if someone had physically gripped it. She laid in her maroon sheets, hating everything that reminded her of George. Call it childish, but he broke her heart to pieces. She could do as she pleased. 

       Gaining the courage to face the world, she trudged around the apartment, cleaning up her breakup scene. An ice cream carton there, a plate of takeout forgotten, next to a book she had left. As soon as she finished that, she stepped into the hot spray of her shower, and put on her best work outfit and stepped into her fireplace.

          Steeling herself, she walked through the arched wooden doors that lead to the cursebreaker department of Gringotts. She nodded at a few of her co workers, as she stopped at the office next to her own. She knocked lightly and at the deep voice behind it, stepped inside.

    “Bill,  I’m- “ she started but he held up a hand, and put down the papers he was shuffling.

    “No. I’m sorry for entrusting you to my brother. He told us what happened and why you left, and once we got the notes you left, we were livid. I would have left too.” He leaned forward onto his knuckles, surveying her. 

      “But this changes nothing for us. We’re still good?” Her voice betrayed none of her inner feelings, but her stomach roiled. Bill was technically her friend first before the twins, even if she was  their age, as she interned for him-rising through the ranks to the point where she was one of the seniors now. He has brought her to the burrow at the behest of Mrs. Weasley, and the rest is, how you say, history. 

       “Bloody-  of course this changes nothing here. First off we’re professionals. Second, with him or not you’re basically a sister to me, have been since you started. I have no hard feelings towards you, and I hope you don’t against the rest of-“ 

       She cut him off with a hug, and muttered her denial of the fact. Untangling, they laughed and her heart was less heavy as she walked to her own office to start her day.  She would lose herself in the runes and artifacts she received, and it would be the first time it isn’t all consumed by the twin. 

This is going to be a longer fic with about 10 chapters, so expect a slowish burn with moments of jealousy, regret, growth and maybe, just maybe a happy ending. Sorry for the bad indentations and errors, I'm pretty bad at proofreading. As always I don't own George Weasley or any references to the Harry Potter world. ( The love interest is a woman, but I wanted to keep her unnamed for all of those george x reader lovers-you can imagine yourself, no judgement here :) ) Tw: none for this chapter, but will have seperate lists for each part.

Chapter 1

His hands roved through her hair, a leisurely pace set by the a calm breeze and the soft grass underneath them. George cleared his throat,  breaking the reverie, and her eyes looked towards his brown ones backlit by the orange sun. He took a deep breath and her own stuttered. Wait is he-

“I love you, love. You know that right?” His voice stammered as she flipped over, her own failing her. She got onto her knees in front of his prone form as her eyes shone. They sat under the willow tree and as they looked in each others eyes, memories flashed in succession. A movie of their love. Their first kiss happened underneath the tree, when George clumsily confessed to her, leaving all of his bravado at the Burrows’ door. Their annual picnics under the green dropping leaves at the edge of the Weasley's property-this was their fifth. The pond lapped at the grass in the background of their nights lounging, discussing their future under the stars. 

She stared up at his statue esque figure, and realized he wasn’t fidgeting. Wasn’t even moving. It struck a chord within her that hit a off pitch squeal, but she ignored it. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and he would never hurt her anyways. 

“Look love. You are an amazing woman, the best honestly. You’ve been there through the war and even after, helping rebuild my family and myself. We made it out in one piece thankfully- but you, you quietly held us together. Through Fred’s shock after his near-“ he choaked, “and gave kind words to all of us.” He finished, even with tears in his eyes. 

    Her own were streaming down her face, sinking into her lips. Her heart was shining in her chest, ready, ready for the next-

     “But someone has returned to Britain. Someone who we both know and well, love.” 

      Her heart stuttered, absolutely screeching to a halt. Love? Everyone she loved was already here and… the joy dimmed at the thought. Angelina. She had heard through the grapevine that the witch had returned, after being in hiding in France with her family. He said love. 

       One heartbeat.

        Two. 

“Are you breaking up with me?”her voice wavered but she stood on shaky legs, “for the love that you suddenly feel for Angelina?” 

       Her voice rose, and the leaves around her shuffled as if they were disgruntled as well. George cringed slightly, but said nothing. 

       No harsh refusals.

       No reassurances. 

       “I’m sorry, love. I just-“ he ran his hand through his hair, “ when she left I was devastated. I mean you saw me. She had broken up with me over letter, and disappeared into the night. Our relationship ended so abruptly the world felt off kilter.” 

       “I. I have to try. You righted it all but, what if I was meant to have more time?” 

        She scoffed. The pain was unbearable, but she was done. Before she could even say anything, George seemed to love putting his foot in his mouth, “ I saw her last Tuesday. Outside of the shop. She waited and when I saw her, everything flooded. She said she heard I was taken, but she had to try. She knew back then we couldn’t have what we possibly could now. And I initially refused, but it stuck with me.” He rushed his words as if they were torpedoing out of his arse.  

         “I knew I couldn’t stay knowing I was thinking of others and so, here we are. I’m sorry it’s out of the blue but-“

          “You’re sorry! Gosh I didn’t know you were so daft. I don’t care about the timing, you just blew everything we had up like one of your fireworks!” 

            He cringed at her voice decible. But she didn’t care. 

            “She was my first love.” He whispered defeated.

            “You were my first love. Look where that got me.”  She started up the hill back toward the Burrow, and when there was enough distance between her and George, she ran. Ran like the wind, and blew through the door. Thank God no one was home.

           She sat at the desk in the corner, and began writing. To each member of the Weasley family, who had done so much for her over the years. She knew she couldn’t be very close to them in this house after this, especially with Angelina due to come around soon. She sent her love, and promised to see them in Diagon Alley for drinks or for meals. 

Fremione (Fred x Hermione)

(I don’t own the characters, and there is some kissing soooo be warned🫶🏼)

Fred’s jealous, I wonder why 😉

Bludgers swiped the air where his head had been, tugged by George to safety in a mere second.

“Keep your head in the game Fred!” He yelled over the roaring wind.

Shaking his head, he re-centers, and forcibly switched his attention to his team. His attention swaying from Hermione, dressed in red and gold. Not just any red or gold, but his own hoodie, embroidered with his last name. His eyes had nearly buggered out of his head when he saw her, smirk evident on her blushing face, even on broomstick. He saluted when he first saw her, and every time he flew near, he smiled just for her.

The action around him was intense as he swatted yet another image of her out his head, and dove for the bludger dogging Harry. As he swatted it away- maybe towards the slytherin benches, a coincidence- he saw Hermione surge with the crowd, and his chest grew a bit fuller. He went on to have a stellar game, and after high fiving the others, realized he had found his new good luck charm.

***

Just as any other athlete was superstitious, Quidditch players were no different magic or no. A pair of socks, a necklace from a woman, or a heirloom watch were popular good luck charms- and they did not play about those. Which is why his blood boiled as Maclaggen made yet another advance on the minx that stole his heart. Okay, maybe not the only reason, but that was for another time. He walked with as much confidence as he could muster and slung an arm around his favorite witch’s shoulder. She jumped, then leaned into him, a moment he tucked into his memory. He smirked at a disgruntled Maclaggen, who turned his chin up, as if to dismiss him entirely, He looked at Hermione, and continued on, “Well you see there is a Hogsmeade trip and was wondering-”

“I think I may be going with someone already.” She winced as she tried to let him down slowly, though annoyed he could not tell she did not want to speak to him in the first place.

“She is definitely busy, mate.” He would find the bloke who she was going with and convince him not to go. His height and demeanor towards anyone interested in her non platonically would play a big role in the convincing. Then he would simply ask her himself. A foolproof plan and one he was stuck in as a ringing voice called his name, “Fred!”

He looked down at her head, and smiled as her head was tilted upwards, baring her face to his. She smiled in a big grin, and he almost forgot she was someone’s date to Hogsmeade.

Almost.

He used his arm wrapped around her and trudged her towards the castle, his jovial actions forced, and his mind dark. She chuckled as she watched him, but nervousness washed off of her in waves. He felt guilty, but what else can one do, when the girl of their dreams is going on a date and not with himself? She pushed out from under his arm and grabbed his hand leading them to an empty classroom, in a secluded hallway. She shut the door with a silencio charm, and put her hands on her hips. “You are angry.”

“Angry? No. Curious? Of course I bloody am. You haven’t mentioned anyone in years, and-”

His ranting stuttered to a stop as she smirked at him, as though almost to say you idiot man. They had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday, and he could have sworn she liked him then, but now he felt like an idiot she was trying to let down. Before he could get himself out of this shitshow, she laughed and it tinkled on the stale air. He almost smiled, but his heart ached.

“You idiot man,” see! “You know who I am going with!”

“I most definitely do not.” He deadpanned, for if he did, the problem would be taken care of much earlier.

“He has freckles that dot his face like cinnamon on chai.” I have bloody freckles, where is my credit?

“Tall, about a full head and shoulders taller. Great for hugs.” he almost gagged at the bile raising to his throat. He was tall too but she wasn’t dazing about him. Whoever this man was, they’d better hope he didn’t find them before Hogsmeade. He may have to borrow the map from Harry, sure he would oblige.

She was his to hug.

She was wearing his hoodie after all.

Last name and everything.

His face was stormy and he felt as though his magic was swelling itching to find the bloke. She snickered once more, a splash of water in his stirring inferno. He cocked an eyebrow as she doubled over, and through chuckles, finished her description, “He has ginger hair that reminds me of carrots and picnics by the great lake in the spring.” She tucked a hair behind her perfect ear, and his heart nearly stopped beating.

He might of been the biggest idiot of all.

“George?” He whispered ruefully and her eyes widened a fraction.

In a swift motion he was by her side in a second, and quipped,

“No he would never be right for you. Better be me then, for the good of all.”

“The good of all?” she whispered, as he closed in on her.

“I almost went clobbering to find the bloke once we were done here. Yes. The good of all, because I don’t plan to share. It seems we are on the same page?”