#lumosbarnes

You had been through so much together; every Hogwarts experience there was to be had, first kisses, first heartbreaks, the Second Great Wizarding War, he was by your side through everything.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N? You look to be thinking entirely too hard for my liking,” Fred sassed, breaking you out of your trance.

“Too hard for your liking?” you retaliated. “What do you care what I’m thinking about?”

“It’s supposed to be a relaxing weekend! You’re much too deep in thought to be relaxing, so of course I care.”

“Well, if you must know, I was thinking about you, Freddie.”

“Carry on then, love. I’ve always wished for your thoughts to be consumed by me.”

With a cheeky wink, Fred went back to a game of exploding snap and you didn’t need to watch to know that Ginny was absolutely kicking his arse. However, you didn’t miss the sly smile that George gave you when Fred’s attention was diverted from you.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to flirt with one another. In fact, you would dare to say it was the most predominant form of communication between the two of you. There was the occasional time or two where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same, but he’d always look away quickly or press a kiss to your cheeks instead of your lips, laughing it off as the two of you caught up in a moment that would cross a line that could never be crossed, though you so desperately wanted to.

After another round of exploding snap, Ginny said her goodbyes and apparated back to her flat, but not before promising that she wouldn’t miss anymore family dinners for quidditch practice, which you knew would happen inevitably but smiled nonetheless at her enthusiasm. You’d been a regular appearance at the weekly get-together for as long as you could remember, you were practically part of the family so you could say with appropriate accuracy that Ginny definitely missed dinner more than all of her siblings combined due to her busy schedule.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to head back as well,” George mused, eyeing the leftover pies in the kitchen. “Are you staying at ours tonight, Y/N?”

“I’d love nothing more. Besides, I didn’t get to play Fred in exploding snap and I want to knock his ego down just a little bit more.”

George linked arms with you and Fred, laughing about his brother’s awful skills as you apparated to their flat above the shop.

You’d spent many a nights at the twins’ flat over the past couple of years. After the war, you had moved in for a while until you found a job and managed to rent your own place. But, they never got rid of your bed that took up a large corner of their living room, which came in handy after weekly Weasley dinners when you just wanted to spend a bit more time with your favorite boys.

“I’m absolutely knackered,” George said once the three of you had settled on the couch. “I think I might go to bed now, if I’m honest. Besides, I want to be up early to work on those new design sketches for the storefront.”

“George Weasley, you have never gotten up before 10 o’clock on a Sunday in your entire life,” you scoffed.

“There’s a first for everything, Y/N. Goodnight to you and Freddie!”

As George turned away from you both, he faked a yawn and when he was sure Fred wasn’t looking, winked back at you to further confirm your suspicion that he wanted you to be alone with Fred.

He had just about had enough of the tension between you both and took every chance he got to get the two of you alone, by any means necessary.

When you heard George’s bedroom door close, you noticed Fred scoot closer to you on the couch until your legs were touching. He slung his arm over your shoulders and you swung your legs up to lay across his lap.

“What were you thinking about earlier? While Gin and I were playing by the fireplace?” Fred wondered aloud.

“Oh, I was looking at all the pictures on the walls at your Mum and Dad’s. I saw one from you and George’s first day at Hogwarts and I was thinking about how we first met.”

“Hmm, so you were thinking about one of the most embarrassing moments in my life?”

“Please, you’ve done much, much worse. Remember that time in our sixth year when you tried to outdrink George after we won the Slytherin match and you – ”

“Ah, ah, ah, I thought we agreed to never speak of that incident again,” Fred said as he visibly shuddered.

“I was just pointing out that I can think of quite a few moments that were far more embarrassing than tripping on my robes.”

“You’re one to talk! Don’t you remember our fifth year when you and George were running from Filch and you knocked Wood to the ground? Bloody broke his arm, you were so lucky Madame Pomfrey had him fixed up before our next match or he would’ve had a heart attack.”

A loud laugh escaped your lips as you covered your face in embarrassment; that was the year you had followed Oliver around like a lost puppy, although your schoolgirl crush paled in comparison to how you’d felt for Fred back then and now as well but neither twin would ever let you live it down.

“Do you remember the Yule Ball? When Flitwick caught you trying to spike the punch and you slipped and fell in the middle of the dance floor?” You chuckled at the memory, even if the Yule Ball was an event you had tried to forget.

“You were so mad at me that night and the whole week before, I was terribly distracted. If we had been on good terms I would’ve gotten away with it and the slipping never would have happened.”

“Well, it’s your own fault we were fighting! I still can’t believe you didn’t ask me to go with you.”

“Oi, it’s not my fault when you never said you wanted me to ask you.”

“I thought I had made it painfully obvious when I asked you every morning at breakfast if you’d found a date yet and told you that I didn’t have one either.”

Fred threw his head back and laughed, the thought of your shocked face when he had asked Angelina was too priceless a memory to ever forget.

“You were so jealous,” Fred mumbled.

“Jealous?!” you screeched. “I wasn’t jealous, I was annoyed that I had to spend all night with some Durmstrang tosser stepping on my toes. We’ve had this argument literally a million times.”

“No, you were definitely jealous. You shot poor Angie daggers the whole night and she’s such a lovely girl.”

“I shot her daggers because she hogged you and I didn’t get to dance with my best friend a single time at the only Ball we ever had at school.”

“I would’ve asked you to dance if you weren’t mad at me, and you know she was only dancing with me to make George jealous, even if he was oblivious.”

You smiled at that; you knew Angelina only had eyes for George and that going with Fred was some elaborate ruse. Shockingly, it ended up working, and he and Angelina have been together ever since.

“Still think you were jealous,” Fred challenged, poking you in the exact spot on your abdomen that he knew you were ticklish.

“Fred Weasley, for the last time, I was not jealous,” you emphasized as you poked him back.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, love,” he said lowly, a daring glint in his eye.

Never one to heed warnings or follow directions, you poked him again and within seconds he had you pinned underneath him on the couch, his fingers trailing up and down your sides as you couldn’t help but laugh boisterously beneath him.

“Fred – ” you gasped. “Freddie, please, I actually think I might pee on your couch.”

“Not until you admit you were jealous that I asked Angelina!”

You shook your head, the combination of laughter and trying to catch your breath kept you from firing back a witty remark.

After a few moments, you simply couldn’t take anymore and shouted out, “FINE. Fine, you win.”

“What was that, lovey? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, fine, I admit it. I was jealous that you asked Angelina when I wanted you to ask me,” you grumbled, struggling to catch your breath in between words.

“See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You glared up at him and moved to push him off of you when you realized just how close his face was to yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could count each individual freckle splattered across his nose and cheeks. Almost instinctually, your eyes flickered down to his lips, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of staring, so you quickly looked away.

Fred noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and, in true Fred Weasley fashion, couldn’t resist a flirty joke.

“You really want to kiss me right now, don’t you?” Fred chuckled.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “yeah, I do.”

Surging forward, you pressed your lips to his and immediately wove your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. You were so tired; tired of the constant flirting and feeling as if you would forever have to love him from afar while he lived his life blissfully unaware of how much it hurt you to hide how you felt.

His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him; the raw emotion in the way he desperately kissed you left little doubt in your mind that he had wanted this for as long as you had. His hands slipped under your shirt and his fingers blazed a trail of fire up your spine; a breathy moan escaped your lips but Fred swallowed the sound with his mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer.

A scream from behind the couch caused you to jump apart, chests heaving and hair sticking up every possible way. You sat up to look over the back of the couch to see George Weasley, looking visibly shaken and guilty, with his hands covering his eyes.

“Oh my god, I leave you alone for thirty minutes and you’re about to shag on my bloody couch. Jesus, ok, let me just, uh, well, I’ve probably ruined the mood, haven’t I?”

“George,” you hissed. “What are you doing sneaking around, I thought you were going to bed?!”

“Yeah, I said I was,” he said sheepishly as he uncovered his eyes, “but I might have been eavesdropping on your conversation. When I heard it go all quiet, I thought I’d come out and see if you two fools had fallen asleep, but clearly, that was not the case.”

“Eavesdropping? I swear to Merlin, George, you’re a ten year old boy. I can’t believe you! Of all the immature and invasive things to do, my God.”

“Well, pardon me, I just wanted to see if my idiot brother would finally grow some balls and tell you he’s in love with you!”

“I’m not sure what you’re on about but that doesn’t mean you can just sneak up on people,” you chided.  “Fred, would you please back me up here, what is wrong with you – ”

You turned around to pull Fred into the argument only to find him sitting on top of the coffee table with a dazed look in his eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Fred, are you alright?” you asked worriedly.

He slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes; you could see just how flushed his face was now that he wasn’t staring at the floor and good Godric, he was as red as the hair on his head.

“I…I…You,” he stammered. “You kissed me?”

“Yes, I suppose that is what happened,” you muttered sheepishly.

“Y/N Y/L/N…you…you kissed me?”

“Freddie, what the hell is the matter with you?”

George burst into laughter and you whirled back around to glare at him, however, this time, he didn’t hush up like he usually did.

“Like I said before, he’s in love with you, and now he can’t even form a coherent sentence because you kissed him, this is golden. Ol’ cock sure Freddie, a pile of mush because of a little makeout sesh, I’ve got to send an owl to Lee…” George trailed off as he turned and rushed back towards his bedroom.

You took another look at Freddie and smiled at the lovestruck look on his face. He was shaking his head in his hands and you saw the redness on his neck as well, which only happened when he was well and truly flustered.

“This is so humiliating,” he groaned as you sat down next to him.

“I think it’s rather cute, if that makes you feel any better,” you said as you chuckled and placed a hand on his thigh.

He removed his head from his hands and looked at you adoringly, the giddy smile on his face ignited butterflies in your stomach and your heart beat wildly in your chest.  

“All the times I imagined how this would pan out…it definitely wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I mean, not that I’m mad about it, it was incredibly sexy how you just grabbed me and kissed me, but I wasn’t supposed to be a bumbling fool afterwards.”

A moment of silence washed over the both of you as Fred intertwined your hands and steadily held your gaze.

“George was right, you know. I am in love with you. Have been for quite a long time, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, in the spirit of honesty, I guess I should say that I’m in love with you too.”

“Bloody brilliant,” he sighed as he leaned in to kiss you again, but you stopped him just before your lips touched.

“You’re not going to pass out or anything if we kiss again, are you?”

“No promises, love, but I’ll try my best.”

“Sir Cormac, are you alright?” Ana, your younger sister, asked as she fled to his aid. She never minded his lingering touches and had always envied that you received his “affections” as well, even though you hardly wanted them.

“Yes, yes, quite alright, Your Highness. Just lost my balance is all,” Cormac grumbled as his eyes lingered on the wire. He didn’t want to be seen as foolish enough to be bested by a simple prank, but unfortunately the evidence was far from discreet.

“Come, I’ll take you to the infirmary. I’m sure there’s something we can do about that bruise.”

You watched with disgust as your sister practically carried Sir Cormac down the hall, until the clearing of a throat broke your attention.

“Y/N, did you lay that wire?” your mother asked, the accusatory tone evident in her voice.

“No, Mother, but frankly I wish I had. Do you see the way he’s always caressing my arms?! He’s even dared to touch my back and he does it to Ana as well! Of course, she doesn’t mind, though it truly escapes me why she doesn’t. He’s horrendous.”

Your mother stifled a laugh; even though she was the Queen, you knew your mischievous and independent ways had come from her.

“Next time he tries to touch you, tell him that your Mother will have his hands,” she spoke with a smile. “I have business to attend to in the dining room, please try to stay out of trouble for once.”

She turned on her heel and left you on your own, but you knew her warning was playful. When the sound of her footsteps receded, your mind and feet began to wander. Your thoughts were consumed with all of the small, mostly harmless, pranks that had been occurring around the castle.

Just the other day, your handmaiden and close friend Luna had witnessed one of your tutors walk out of the kitchen sopping wet. She asked around and found out that a bucket of water had fallen on her head that morning seemingly out of thin air.

You wished that you would have felt sympathy for her, but she had scolded you until you cried last week because you couldn’t remember the first name of a Prince that you would never meet.

A little over a month ago you noticed that Lady Priscilla, a dreadful, awful young woman from a noble family in your Father’s Court, was itching constantly at her corset. You recalled receiving an actual stern glare from your mother for laughing at that one.

But, the little things you noticed weren’t always directed at people. Occasionally you’d find furniture askew, flower arrangements and paintings altered, sticky substances on the railings (you had gotten caught up in that a time or two). You recalled finding every piece of furniture in the Great Dining Hall practically glued to the floor once and thought your parents were going to have coronaries, but to your surprise, they laughed alongside you.

Your father had suspected you at first, of course, but when the pranks continued while you were away last month visiting your best childhood friend, Lady Hermione Granger, it was obvious you were not the culprit. No one could recall when the odd occurrences started happening, so it just became a way of life around the castle. Not that anyone minded, you’d even seen your grumpy sister crack a smile or two at the jests.

Sometimes you wished you knew who it was, that you could dismantle the mystery, partly because you wanted them to include you in their havoc. However, a far greater reason, was that over the past few months, you had found yourself smiling and laughing again after the untimely death of your elder sister, Clara, during the Great War. Whoever this mystery prankster was, you owed them a thank you about a million times over.

Fearing that you’d smack straight into a wall while your mind was reeling over the castle’s secret joker, you shook the thoughts from your head and found yourself walking towards the gardens.

As you began opening the door to the greenhouse, it suddenly flung open to reveal a rather tall and beautiful man with hair the color of a roaring fire.

“Pardon me, Princess,” he apologized immediately. “I was all too focused on not dropping these herbs and didn’t realize the door was opening.”

You realized then that you had stumbled into Mr. George Weasley, the Potions Master and Healer that your Father had employed months ago. He was supposedly brilliant; had a way with creating concoctions that even the brightest minds had never thought of. When your Mother fell ill earlier this year, George had her right as rain within days.

You also recalled from palace gossip that he used to run a business with his twin brother a few years ago, but his brother had died in the Great War and George refused to carry on the business without him.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Weasley. Do you need some help carrying your things?”

“I-I-You know my name?” He stuttered quietly.  

“Of course I do,” you chuckled. “My Father speaks very highly of you, especially after the way you took such great care of my Mother. Thank you for that, by the way. I tried to find you to thank you in person before, but it seems we always miss each other.”

“Yes, it seems we do, and please, call me George,” he trailed off lightly, a twinkle in his deep, brown eyes.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you; you could have been gazing into each other’s eyes for hours, you couldn’t be sure, but the trance was broken when the hoard of plants fell from his arms.

“Here, please let me help,” you said as you bent down to the ground, gathering the discarded herbs.

“If your Mother or Father catches you helping the insignificant Potions Master – ”

“They would be thrilled that they had raised a kind and helpful daughter. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

George smiled down at you, a blinding smile that reached his eyes and made the corners crinkle.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to say.”

The two of you headed off towards the East Wing of the castle where his living and work chambers were located. Once you had helped him sort out the herbs and tidy up any fallen leaves or stems, you sat down and sighed, admiring his workspace.

“I’ve always been fascinated by potion making and medicine,” you said quietly. “I wish it were part of my studies. I learned a little bit during the War to help with the wounded but nothing more in the past few years. Now that I’m older, my lessons, if you can even call them that, only consist of recalling Monarchial history and information about other kingdoms.”

You noticed George stiffen at the mention of the Great War, his cheerful demeanor suddenly disappearing from sight, but as quickly as it was gone it was back again.

“The War is what got me into all this in the first place. I figured I’d use my talents to help people if I could, and it turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

He managed a weak smile, and the sight of it broke your heart.

“I’m sorry about your brother, George. I-I heard about him in passing, some Noblewomen were discussing your tragedy like it was front page news since they never have anything better to do. I suppose I’m no better for listening, even if it wasn’t entirely on purpose, but I’m still so sorry.”

“I appreciate that, Princess. I will always miss him but in the past year I feel like I’ve finally started moving forward with my life instead of standing still.”

You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, embarrassed that you had brought up such a sensitive topic upon your first time meeting George, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to know you were sorry, and that you understood his pain.

“I’m sorry too,” he murmured. “You lost someone as well, didn’t you?”

“My sister, Clara. She was always rebellious, even worse than me, and she was in love with a man from the village just outside the palace grounds. His name was Thomas and they were just perfect for each other. When my Father got word that Riddle’s Army was headed towards the castle, she snuck away through one of the secret passages to the village to save him, but Riddle’s Army was already there and she died with him when they destroyed the village.”

George couldn’t say anything, the tragic story rendering him speechless. Your sister’s bravery and your obvious heartache, he didn’t know what to say, but you began speaking again.

“We probably have a lot more in common than you think, Mr. Weasley,” you teased, although he didn’t miss the glimmer of tears in your eyes.

“I’d love to find out what more, Princess, and I told you to call me George.”

“I’ll call you George only if you promise to call me Y/N.”

“Your Father would have my – ”

“He would have your utmost support because I asked you to call me by my name and it’s never polite to refuse to request of a Royal, right, George?”

“Absolutely, Princ…I mean, Y/N,” George said with a smile.

You decided instantly that your name had never sounded better.

Once again, a comfortable silence fell between you two as you rose from your seat and traced your fingertips along his equipment. Cauldrons, beakers, books with the directions to make the most difficult of healing draughts, when suddenly you had an idea.

“George,” you began, turning to face him, “what would you say to a little extra work?”

“Well, that depends. Is it difficult?”

“Well, that depends. Do you find me difficult to spend time with?”

“Not in the slightest,” he answered immediately with a smile.

“In that case, how would you like to teach me your ways? I want to learn all that there is to know about potion making, herbs, plants, medicines. And who better to teach me than you?”

“If…I mean if the King and Queen do not mind, I have no objections,” George spoke, failing to stop the hopeful grin that appeared on his face.

“I’m sure they won’t but I will speak to them this evening. Shall I come find you tomorrow? Will you be here?”

“In the morning, yes. Let’s meet here at, say, nine o’clock?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said eagerly. “I’d better get back, I’m sure someone’s wondering where I’ve been, but I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow!”

With a quick wave goodbye, you swiftly made your way out of George’s workshop before he could tell that you were practically trembling with excitement.

Unbeknownst to you, George had to steady himself against a table so he wouldn’t faint at the prospect of seeing you not only again, but so soon.

Your hurried steps had brought you back to your Mother’s study and you were delighted to see she had returned from her earlier meeting.

“Mother, what would you say if I began taking lessons from Mr. Weasley?”

“Well,” your Mother began as she closed her book, “I’d be curious to know how this proposition came about.”

“I bumped into him in the gardens earlier. He’s brilliant, Mother, and you know how interested I am in his specialties.”

“Are you interested in his specialties or him?” She asked with a sly smile.

“I…I suppose maybe both?”

Your Mother stared at you for what seemed like ages, taking in the sparkle in your eyes and the giddy smile on your face that had been absent since the passing of your closest sister.

“As long as you’re able to attend to your duties and join Father in court meetings, I don’t see why not. You need something substantial to fill your time anyway, I swear you’re either always in the garden or sneaking tarts from the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Mother,” you exhaled, not even realizing you had been holding your breath awaiting her response.

“Go find your brothers, supper should be ready soon. I’ll speak to your Father about these lessons and let you know what he decides.”

You nodded your head and went off in search of your younger siblings wondering what color dress you would wear tomorrow.

Elsewhere in the castle, George Weasley was in front of a mirror fiddling with his hair and already planning what he would say to you when he saw you in the morning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed another trip wire safely tucked away near the Knight’s living quarters.

For once, you didn’t stick around to wait for the inevitable chaos because the quicker you found your brothers and ushered them to supper, the quicker your day would end, and the quicker you would again be able to see Mr. George Weasley.

***

“Well, when’s the last time you were nervous to spend time with a boy? Or a man?”

“I…never? I don’t think I’ve ever been nervous because of someone.”

Luna smiled cheekily as she handed you your dress, a look you knew far too well.

“Not even Professor Lupin?” She asked while laughing at the stunned look on your face.

“Oh god, Luna, I thought we would never mention that again. He was my tutor, it was a schoolgirl crush, end of story.”

“Alright, alright, no more mentioning Professor Lupin!”

She helped you slip on your dress and stood back while you admired yourself in your mirror. Something was missing, and Luna knew exactly what it was as she handed you the dainty, single pearl necklace your brother Aiden had gifted you for your most recent birthday.

“There. Now you look perfect. Plus, that beautiful necklace will have Mr. Weasley’s eyes wandering to your decolletage every time you lean forward.”

“LUNA!” you scolded, though you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped with your shout.

A moment passed before you turned around and grasped Luna’s hand in your own. She could sense that your demeanor had shifted a bit, and a serious tone replaced the previous lighthearted one in your room.

“Luna, how…how did you feel when you first met Neville? Did you feel like this? Am I being crazy?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re being crazy at all. It wasn’t an instant connection, if that’s what you mean, but the moment I realized what we had was special, I felt that I might take flight with the way my stomach and heart fluttered at the sight of him.”

You noticed her hand leave your grasp to trace the wedding ring on her left hand; she and Neville had been married last spring and although you had been to many royal weddings, theirs outshone them all.

“Neville knows George quite well, you know. He sees him all the time while working in the garden, says he’s one of the nicest people he’s ever met. Quite funny, too.”

Smiling fondly, you turned back to your mirror and smoothed your dress one last time.

“I’d better be going,” you said softly, the beat of your heart growing faster every second.

“I’ll be right here when you get back, waiting for you to tell me everything,” Luna said smiling. She pushed you softly towards your chamber door and with a newfound determination, you walked briskly towards the East Wing, careful to keep an eye out for anymore trip wire.

You had almost reached your destination when you felt someone grasp your arm from behind.

“Excuse me – ” you began to say, but you were cut off when the stranger turned you around.

“Sir Cormac, I hope you have a very good reason for putting your hands on me.”

His grip tightened as he pulled you further into the corridor, grumbling under his breath about something you couldn’t make out.

“Sir Cormac,” you shouted. “I’ll ask you again what you think you’re doing putting your hands on me.”

“I know it’s you leaving that wire around for me to trip on. I saw you laughing yesterday and I see the way you look at me with disgust and disdain. I deserve to be treated with respect for serving your family as diligently as I do.”

You shoved his hand off of you and promptly smacked him across his cheek.

“How dare you speak to me that way? I’m not the one making a fool out of you, but I wish that I were. You are vile, and I would rather face Lord Riddle’s army on my own than rely on you for whatever protection you may think you provide me and my family. I suggest you walk away and resign from your position, because you won’t like the outcome if I tell my Father what transpired here today.”

“Why you little – ” he started to say as he lunged forward, but a shout from down the hall interrupted him.

“Sir Cormac! I believe it would be in your best interest to step away from the Princess, immediately.”

You smiled as you recognized the voice and then internally scolded yourself. You were never one to want or need a savior, but the sound of George Weasley coming to your aid didn’t seem quite so bad at all.

“This is none of your business, Weasley,” Cormac sneered as he kept his gaze on you.

“I do believe it is, Sir. The bruise forming on the Princess’s arm is my concern as a Healer, and seeing as there’s no one else around, I’m quite certain it’s from you.”

George stepped forward when Cormac made no indication of leaving, but you put a hand on his chest to hold him back.

“I’ve got it George, but thank you.”

You turned your attention back to Cormac, bile rising in your throat just having to look at his face.

“I won’t repeat myself, Sir Cormac, and due to your hesitation, my offer has changed. Mr. Weasley will be escorting me to my Father’s chambers and he can decide your punishment.”

George moved closer to you and told himself it was for your protection, but the nagging voice in the back of his head told him otherwise.

You gently took his arm and began walking briskly away from Sir Cormac, satisfied with the final look you caught of the red handprint on his cheek.

“Are you alright?” George asked softly. “I didn’t mean to offend you by trying to help, I just know how he can be and I – ”

“Please don’t apologize, I’m…I’m quite glad you came to my rescue, Mr. Weasley.”

“Have you forgotten my name already, Your Highness?”

You shuddered at the formality and George burst into laughter, the sound of which made the fluttering from this morning come back tenfold.

“My apologies, George,” you emphasized.

Soon, you reached your Father’s study and relayed your encounter with whom, he thought to be, one of his most trusted knights. You excused yourself quite quickly after your Father thanked George for “coming to your rescue”, as he so aptly put it, and you would have to have been blind to miss the wink your Father gave you at the sight of George following you like you were the Sun and he was a mere satellite.

“I guess I’ll have to find a new target,” George mused as the two of you walked down the corridor together.

You stopped abruptly, causing George to crash into you roughly, but he had no time to react before you screeched.

“It’s been YOU? You’re the infamous castle prankster? All this time I’ve been trying to figure it out and I had absolutely no idea.”

“Well, you didn’t really know I existed until yesterday, did you?” He teased.

Although his tone was lighthearted, you couldn’t help but look down in embarrassment. You were ashamed that you hadn’t tried harder to meet him before your chance encounter, if not to thank him for helping your Mother but to comfort someone who you knew was still facing the same sorrows as you. It was the thought of confronting that grief that selfishly held you back, but that excuse didn’t make it any less difficult to deal with.

“Hey, Y/N, I was only joking. We wouldn’t have met any other way, our paths hadn’t ever intertwined.”

“I know you’re right but I should have made more of an effort. I wanted to, after I heard about your brother, because I thought maybe you might want someone to talk to who can relate, but I wasn’t ready to talk about Clara.”

George stayed silent, sensing you had more to say after your pause. You fiddled nervously with your necklace, wondering if Luna had magic powers as you watched him struggle miserably to avert his gaze from your chest.

“Actually,” you began thoughtfully, “yesterday was the first time I’ve spoken about her since she passed. Of course, people ask how I’m doing or my Mother, Father, or siblings will reminisce, but I never…I never bring her up on my own.”

“That’s how it was at first for me. My family is very close, and I know they all loved Fred just as much as me, but it was different. I lost my twin, my best friend, my other half, and when they started healing and moving on, I stayed stagnant. It took me so much longer than my siblings and my parents, but once you take that first step it gets easier.”

You smiled and reached for George’s hand, praying that your palms weren’t as sweaty as you thought they might be.

“George and Fred…a nice ring to it, I think. I’m sure you got up to all kinds of mischief together.”

“Oh, no one ever called us George and Fred. It was always Fred and George,” he said with a chuckle.

“Well, I may be biased, but I think it sounds better my way.”

Feeling bold, you winked at him before slightly tugging his hand toward his workshop, eager to start your lessons and spend the day locked away with just George.

If you had turned around only slightly, you would have seen George’s cheeks flushed as red as his hair and a dopey smile on his handsome face.

The door to George’s workshop swung upon with ease, and you gazed with wonder upon the many cauldrons, ingredients, and tools laid out on the nearest table.

“Welcome to Potions 101,” George bellowed comically. “Today, we’ll be making a remedy for nausea to start out simple. I brewed my own batch earlier this morning, and everything you need to make yours, including instructions, is right here on this table. When you have finished, we’ll compare yours to mine.”

“So I just…get started?” You questioned.

“Exactly. My Mum always told me that the best way to learn is get thrown right into it. I’ll be sitting right here if you have any questions, but I’m not going to assist you in anyway unless absolutely necessary.”

You furrowed your brows as George sat down in an armchair across the room. While you weren’t sure exactly how he was going to teach you, you definitely weren’t expecting him to sit in silence while you stumbled your way through his chicken scratch directions.

After thirty minutes of no noise except for the roaring fire underneath your cauldron, you huffed and hoped it sounded as annoyed as you felt.

“Is there something bothering you, Y/N?” George smirked.

“Well, yes. How come you aren’t speaking to me?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to. You’re here to learn and conversation is distracting.”

“I thought we could, I don’t know, get to know each other. I mean, if I have to brew remedies for stomach problems in silence every day I might lose my mind and it’ll be entirely your fault.”

You heard George chuckling and looked up to find him looking at you, eyes alight with a playful glint.

“Ms. Y/L/N, did you have an ulterior motive when you asked me to teach you? Did you maybe just…want to spend time with me?”

“That is very bold of you to assume, George,” you stammered, accidentally dropping far more peppermint than needed into your bubbling cauldron.

George remained silent, the teasing look still on his face as you scrambled to save your mixture. Since it was impossible to separate liquids, you angrily sat down and blew a stray hair out of your eye with an aggravated sigh.

Now that your face was covered by the cauldron, you felt more inclined to answer George’s question.

“What if I did have an ulterior motive? Would that…would that change what’s happening here? Are you the Potions Master teaching an eager student? Or…or is this something else?”

You heard no response except for approaching footsteps. George stopped in front of you, taking your hand and pulling you from your seated position.

“I have a confession to make,” he said quietly. “I know we officially met yesterday, but I’ve known who you are for quite a while now. Not just in the “you’re the Princess of the Kingdom I live in” way but, I’ve been…watching you I guess I could say.”

You raised an eyebrow, eager to hear how he would explain that away.

“Not creepily watching you, no, not at all, I just…I saw you one day in the gardens. I knew who you were but I wasn’t sure if I could approach you, you’re the Princess, and then I saw you talking to Neville. You were so kind and treated him like a friend, like an equal. When you left I asked him about you and he told me how you and your family weren’t like other Royals. He told me about your sister and how he was so sad that he hadn’t seen you genuinely smile since she passed and I felt, I felt connected to you.”

He paused and tentatively reached for your face with his other hand. You gladly accepted and placed your own on top of his, relishing in the way his calloused fingers delicately traced your cheek.

“Before Fred died, our business was…unconventional, I guess you could say. We sold gag gifts, joke items, pranking seminars, anything to do with causing mischief, in the surrounding villages. It was wonderful and we got to do something we loved and were passionate about, together, but when he died that passion died with me. Until I came here, and I saw the way your eyes lit up when one of your little brothers chased the other with a spider or jumped out from behind a pillar to scare one of the castle staff. You didn’t smile, but I saw the twinkle in your eyes and it made me want to explore that part of myself again, if only to make you laugh.”

“George,” you whispered, “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

“I know, I know, it’s creepy. I’m creepy. I shouldn’t have said anything – “

“George!” You cried, interrupting him. “I think you’re incredibly sweet.”

“You…you do?”

“You spent your free time setting up things in the castle to make me laugh for the most selfless reason I can think of, why would I not think you’re sweet?”

“I thought you would think I was absolutely mad but, I just wanted to do whatever I could because I could see and relate to how you were feeling. It wasn’t entirely selfless, I admit, it helped me too.”

“Well, I’m glad that it did. You could have talked to me, you know. I don’t bite and I would hope that you realized my parents don’t believe in castle hierarchy.”

“I realized it straight away but…you made me nervous. Every time I thought I had the courage to say something I felt as if I’d throw up everywhere. Honestly, some of the times you knocked on my workshop door I was in here, I just didn’t know how to talk to you.”

You burst out laughing at his admission, trying to picture George Weasley hiding behind his bookshelves of potions or in a broom cupboard because he was too nervous to speak to you.

“That’s how I felt this morning,” you said quietly. “I woke up and thought I must be sick, but Luna informed me it was just nerves.”

“You were nervous? Over me?”

“Well, you are quite handsome. And maybe I was worried I wouldn’t be any good at making nausea remedies which, as it turns out, I’m not.”

“Eh, you just need a bit of practice. I say you come here every day, twice a day until you can make every potion, draught, remedy, herbal supplement, and tonic in existence.”

You tilted your head back to laugh, and when you looked back up at George you became irritatingly aware of how close your faces were.

“I think there’s something else I’d like to practice…” you whispered as you leaned in.

Your lips brushed his, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that if anyone had looked away, they would have missed it.

You backed off slowly, worried that you had misread this entire situation, but the instant you leaned away George grabbed your face with his hands and kissed you with such fervor you stumbled backward. Your hands snaked around his neck to hold yourself steady and his nose bumped yours clumsily as you navigated the unfamiliarity of one another.

He tasted of peppermint and tea, like the flames of a fire that currently roared to life in your stomach and your chest. He was soft and rough, warm and inviting, and your senses could only know George. George. George. His name, a mantra in your mind as your fingers tangled in his messy hair and he let out a breathy moan.

“George,” you whispered against his lips, breathing deeply to ease the burning ache in your lungs.

He opened his eyes slowly, pupils blown and searching for your own. You must have looked a sight, and the thought of anyone walking in to your current predicament caused laughter to erupt from you.

“What’s so funny, love?” He asked with a small smile.

“I was just thinking about what might happen if someone walked in at this very moment.”

George ran quickly to the door and locked it while you stood laughing at his distress. A look of annoyance was clear on his face as he staggered back to you, confirming that your kiss had affected him just as much as it had affected you.

“Oh come on, George, it’s not like you’d be banished from the Kingdom. You’d just have to explain to my parents why you were snogging my face off without asking their permission to court me first.”

Now that you said it aloud, you could understand his fear.

“Well,” he breathed out as he slid an arm around your waist, “now that I’m certain there can be no interruptions, what do you say we get back to practicing?”

“You’re absolutely right, George,” you said cheekily as you turned away from him. “I do believe I have a nausea remedy to restart.”

“Aye, that you do.”

***