Weasleys x reader imagines And Preferences

the blood quill - George

You were sitting in the squishiest chair you could find in the Gryffindor common room, working on a scroll for Professor Umbridge's "class." She wanted a foot and half long essay about why Werewolves should be ostracized from Wizarding Society.

You considered writing, "Professor Remus Lupin was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had, you bigoted toad ." The throbbing pain on your left hand, however, convinced you otherwise.

You looked down at the bandage that was covering your scar that read, "I must not be late to class," and clenched your jaw tight. No one had even had their texts open when you came through the door, yet you still got detention.

You shook your head and were just about to get back to your essay, when two lanky, red heads burst through the portrait hole.

"There's our girl!" Fred Weasley called out, George just steps behind him.

"Hey guys," you chuckled as Fred took a seat on the left arm of your chair, George on the right.

"We wanted to celebrate this momentous occasion, so we brought you your favorites back from Hogsmeade," George said with a wink, tossing a package of acid pops on your lap.

"Momentous occasion? I got detention, you dimwits!" You looked at them with a mixture of amusement and frustration.

"Yes, but it was your first detention , Y/N," George said, pretending to get choked up.

"And we could not be more proud," Fred continued as he wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

"If I get a howler in the mail, I'm making you two open it," you grimaced.

"Oh, Y/N. If you had only used our Puking Pastilles, that old hag would’ve never given you detention," Fred chided.

"You're probably right," you muttered as you began to unwrap one of the brilliantly red acid pops.

"What was that, George? Am I going mad? Did Y/F/N, Y/L/N, just admit to Fred and George Weasley being right about something?! Someone call The Daily Prophet!" Fred called out to the otherwise empty common room, arms flailing. 

"Don't get used to it," you warned. You couldn’t help but laugh though. He looked utterly ridiculous. 

"We have to go tell Lee. George, are you coming?" Fred asked excitedly.

"I'm sure you can handle that on your own, mate" George assured.

Fred made a kissy face to his brother as he was leaving through the portrait hole, but this went unnoticed by you as you were back to scribbling your essay.

"What's with the bandage," George interrupted.

The twins had shockingly not gotten detention yet as it was still quite early in the term. You knew you should probably warn them, but you didn't want to worry anyone--especially George. He was particularly protective of you, and had been since first year. 

"Oh, it's nothing. Just me being clumsy again," you said forcing a laugh. You bit your lip and your gaze went back to your parchment, but you could feel George's eyes locked on you.

"We've been friends for almost seven years and you think I can't tell when you're lying, Y/L/N?" George sighed and lightly shoved you on the shoulder.

You looked up at him and realized that nothing you said would prevent him from finding out, so with a defeated sigh you began to unwrap the bandage.

"What the bloody hell?" George gaped, his eyes widening. He took your hand gently, studying the wound.

Your skin flushed at the contact. George had always treated you a little more delicately. You were just as tough as the twins, if not more so. That wasn’t the issue, nor was it the fact that you were a girl; it was just George's way, particularly with you.

"She's nothing if not clever," you joked, trying to ease the tension. George, still holding your hand, was silent.

"I'm alright, George! I promise," you reassured him, lightly touching his cheek so he would look at you.

"I promise I won't let this happen again, Y/N" he replied solemnly. Butterflies began taking flight in your stomach, their fluttering matching the quickening pace of your heartbeat.

"How can you possibly promise that, Georgie?" You let out a laugh as quiet as a whisper.

"You don't trust me? He countered. You rolled your eyes, "Course I trust you."

“I’ll figure something out,” he said confidently. “You always do,” you smiled. 

George's P.O.V

“Umbridge used a black quill on her for detention?” Fred asked incredulously. “I thought the ministry banned those things years ago,” Lee commented. 

“D’you think we can talk to Dad?” you suggested. “George, please. You know that we’re always better off taking things into our own hands,” Fred said with a dark, mischievous look in his eyes. You could tell the cogs in your brother’s brain were already hard at work.  

“I do have a question though, first,” Lee piped in. “What’s that?” you asked. 

“You did take the opportunity to kiss it better, right?” Lee snickered and this comment caused Fred to howl with laughter. You shoved Lee off the edge of your bed and covered your face in your hands. 

“You’d think physical injury would be enough of a reason for our dear Georgie to make a move, but alas we learned that wasn’t the case when Malfoy knocked her off her broom during that Quidditch match two years ago,” Fred shook his head. 

You knew your face had to be a bright shade of scarlet at this point. “She’s been dating Dean Thomas!” you cried out grasping at straws. “They broke up a year ago, mate” Fred groaned. “Didn’t they only date for like half a term,” Lee mused. 

You knew your face had to be a bright shade of scarlet at this point. “She’s been dating Dean Thomas!” you cried out grasping at straws. “They broke up a year ago, mate” Fred groaned. “Didn’t they only date for like half a term,” Lee mused. 

“Oh shove off, are you two going to help me or not?” you fumed. 

“There’s nothing more romantic than avenging the love of your life, George. We’re in.” Fred smirked. 

Your P.O.V

You were leaving the Divination classroom when a blur of red hair grabbed your hand pulling you into a sprint.  “George Weasley, what on Earth?” you wheezed as you tried to keep up with his long-legged strides. 

Finally the door to the Room of Requirement appeared up ahead. He quickly pulled you inside and then fell to the ground, rolling with laughter. “What happened?!” you asked barely containing your excitement and wanting to be in on the joke. 

“Did you finally use the Portable Swamp on Filch?” you urged. 

“Her face, you should’ve seen her face,” George panted, trying to catch his breath. You suddenly felt very uneasy. “Oh no, what did you guys do?” 

“Fred, Lee, and I may or may not have bewitched all the cat photos in Umbridge’s office...and turned them into snarling wolves.” he started. You tried to hold back a laugh, but couldn’t. 

“And her entire office may or may not be a muddy shade of brown,” he finished with a smirk. 

“Honestly, that part is just doing her a favor. She must get terrible headaches from constantly looking at all that pink,” you mused. “Why were you running though,” you asked hesitantly. 

“She also may or may not have figured out who it was...”

"Blimey, George! Who knows what type of punishment she's going to put you through," you groaned.

He gave a simple shrug, suddenly becoming uncharacteristically shy.  "It's nothing."

"Well it means everything to me," you said quietly as you pulled him into a fierce hug. "Thank you, George."

Then, without even thinking, you took his face into your hands and pressed your lips against his. It was the most natural kiss either of you had ever had and it left both of you feeling breathless.

"Totally worth it," George declared as he leaned in to kiss you again, more purposefully and passionately than before.