George Weasley X Reader (Harry Potter) Fred Weasley X Reader

Holding Hands

Hell yeah, I'm back baby! You know what that means, MORE UPDATES!!! C'mon, where are all the cheers! You know you're all glad I'm back in business and updating regularly again!

Y/n P.O.V.

"Is Fred still sulking?" I asked George, pacing in the hallway. He nodded, twisting his hands together. It was 3:00 in the afternoon, and I hadn't seen him yet.

"No-well, yes. He's mad at himself for exploding, wishing he'd punched Max, and afraid you're going to leave the troublemaking trio for that twig." George pulled at his tie, gazing at the ground. "Besides, I am taking Fred's side on this! Max is no good for you. I can feel it in my bones!" George dramatically gestured to himself.

I nodded, rolling my eyes. "Oh, please, you two are overprotective, and you know it." I paused, thinking about Dumbledore. "What punishment did Dumbledore give him, by the way?"

George cringed, skating suddenly. "He was given the worst punishment possible." George looked me in the eye, frowning slightly. "He had to hold Max's hand for the entire day."

I gasped in horror. "Not the hand-holding punishment of death! That's pure torture!" I raised my hands to my heart, taking a step back. George nodded uneasily.

"Well, since we're such good friends, we should save him, right?" George began pacing, occasionally glancing at me.

"Nope!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. "I AM NOT GETTING MIXED IN THAT MESS AGAIN! HE CAN FEND FOR HIMSELF!" My tone was half joking, half dangerous, and a little wicked.

George's smile twisted into a gnarly grin. He suddenly looked devilish in the hallway. "Heyyyy Y/n? Want to do something fun?" He said in his sweetest voice.

"No. Not when you ask like that. It's creepy. If I didn't know your mother, I'd suspect you were born of mischief from hell." I furrowed my eyebrows, staring down the brink of my nose at him. He walked towards me, gently grabbing my wrist. Flipping it over, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. I squirrmed, pulling slightly.

"That's a shame Y/n. I was hoping to take you on the best non-planned date ever." He purred, lowering my wrist slightly. He intertwined our fingers, bringing our arms down beside us. George was holding my hand! He kissed my wrist!

"Ok! Who are you and what have you done with George?!" I faced the man, looking deep into his eyes. He looked exactly like George to me.

He sighed, bringing his other hand up to his eyes. "I'm trying to flirt, dammit! Just roll with it, yeah? We both know I'm bad at this!" He pointedly stared at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"That was- that was flirting? Oh. Um, yeah, sure. Flirting, yay!" I lifted my other hand into the air for emphasis. George rolled his eyes, tugging me forward. I walked next to him; his thumb stroking circled on the back of my hand. "WHere are we going?"

"First stop, the owlery! They feather rain like snow!" George bellowed dramatically. "Then I escort the lady to an enchanted forest, where she can pick a flower of her choice! After all that, we'll include a surprise visit to the rooftop!"

I nudged him, smiling. "You could be an announcer for quidditch! You're terrific!"

George laughed slightly, thinking. " Lee Jordan does it better." George brought his voice down an octave, acting like Lee. "Oh, look at that nasty bit of cheeting! Slytherin beater whacks the Gryffindor beater! Those god damned little shits-" George changed his voice to pretend to be Professor McGonagall. "Jordan!"

George pressed his lips together, holding back a laugh as he made his voice deep again. "Just telling it like it is, professor! After that lovely bit of cheating, I'm sure Professor McGonagall could play better than the Slytherin beater!"

I turned and smacked George. "Don't insult Slytherins! This is an all-house-inclusive story!"

George quirked his eyebrow at me before glancing at the door to eh owlery. As we pushed it open, bright sunlight assaulted our eyes. It filtered in through the glass roof, especially where there was no roof at all. I glanced outside. The sun was slowly setting.

Birds shook above our heads, glistening feathers falling from the rafters. They caught the sunlight as they fell, magnificent yellows, twirling reds, and sparkling browns falling. They danced in the sunshine, fluttering helplessly to the ground. They were so beautiful, for such a short time, their journey cut short by the hard floor.

George caught one in his hand. It was brown, the fading light turning it into a ruby gold. George circled his wand around the feather, the object magically transforming. I watched as it sparkled and danced into a flower. A red lily.

I paused, looking skeptically at George. Red lilies symbolized passion. What was he passionate about?

George looked out at sunset, something on his mind. He looked back at me, gently reaching a hand out. George tucked a stray hair behind my ear, gazing at me. He took a small step forward, tucking the lily behind my ear.

His jaw was perfectly shaded in the remaining sunlight, shadows of mystery cast over his face. His eyelashes fluttered like the feathers, long and gorgeous. Placing an arm around my waist, he drew me closer to him.

My breath caught in the back fo my throat as his chest pressed against mine. His other hand reached up, brushing stray hairs out of my face. His nose was centimeters away from mine, his breath dusting my face. He smelled strongly of gunpowder and burnt parchment- a failed experiment from earlier.

His lips were suddenly on mine. I grabbed his shirt, feeling as if I was going to fall over. He pulled me closer to him, almost in the act of desperation. His fingers wove through my hair like magic, weaving a spell that seemed impossible to break. His lips moved softly, gently, pulling on mine slightly.

A bubble rose in my throat. I quickly pulled away from George, covering my mouth. I closed my eyes shut, belching loudly. The sound echoed and reverberated off the walls. I glanced at George, slightly embarrassed. To my surprise and dismay, he started clapping.

"In all my years of burping contests, I've never heard one that loud! That rivals the Christmas challenge of 3 years ago where Percy had 3 pints of fizzy butterbeer! That was only a 10 out of 10! Yours, Y/n, was a solid 12 out of 10! That was marvelous! You're amazing, Y/n!" George smiled genuinely at me, winking slightly. I looked at the ground.

Throwing an arm over my shoulder, George steered me towards the door. "Let's go grab some food. This has been the best Wednesday ever!"

I giggled slightly, "George, it's only Tuesday!"

George looked down at me. Since when had he gotten so tall? He leaned down slightly, pecking my lips. "Ok, this is the best TUESDAY ever."

It suddenly became deathly quiet between us as I looked at him. There was something behind his aze, something he wasn't telling me. He was holding back something I needed to know. A sudden question came to my lips, unprovoked. "George, why'd you kiss me?"

"I received a letter today. It told me to cherish you and kiss you while I still can. I figured it was a perfect excuse to do the one thing I've wanted to do. I've wanted to kiss you for so long- since that time we were stuck together in the closet- it's been the only thing on my mind- Y/n- please- just- ugh! The letter gave me the inspiration to make the first move, but this was all me" He gestured to himself, and looked at me, his expression almost pleading. His eyes stayed on my face, intently searching my expression. I was at a loss for words, completely speechless in the moment.

"It was 100 percent me. Unless it was bad. If you didn't like it, it was the letter's fault, OK? Oh, gosh, it was terrible, wasn't it? I am so sorry." George's words became incessant ramblings his eyes never leaving mine.

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Shhhhhhh. Now we all know I can't write good kiss scenes. But it's ok. Just let it go.

P.S. My kiss scenes will get 100% better after I kiss somebody. Any volunteers?