Fandom Imagines

Expecting Someone? (George Weasley X Reader)

"Want the truth?" He asked, and you quirked a curious eyebrow at him, "I had a bit of a crush on you back in the day."

Your jaw dropped, "No way! You're just saying that." You could feel the heat rising up your neck to the apples of your cheeks.

"No really, I have proof," he grinned at you.

"Then by all means show me," you scoffed with a breathy laugh.

"That would require you accompanying me to dinner at my parent's house tomorrow," he smirked.

"George Weasley, are you asking me out on a date?" You feigned shock, placing your hand over your heart.

"Well, seeing as we've basically already had a first date, the offer doesn't seem too outrageous," he shrugged, a smug grin plastered to that sweet face of his.

You scrunched up your face and gazed off as if in deep contemplation, before cheekily replying, "I suppose it doesn't," returning his grin.

The check came for the meal and he paid for the whole tab, no hesitation. You knew it was a kind gesture, but in your stubbornness you fought him on it all the way up to the door.

"George, please, let me give you a ten or something, you didn't even plan on having a date today!" You argued in indignation.

"Pick you up at 6?" He asked with a grin, ignoring your further insisting while holding the door for you.

As you walked out into the breezy London street, you finally gave up.

"Sounds like a plan," you sighed with a smile. He was just too good to be real, you thought.

He hugged you briefly as you parted ways, having already given him your address and your muggle cell phone number. You were relieved to find out he had one that his dad had given him and had learned how to text, as you had had one from grown up in a half-blood household. As soon as you got on the train to go home, your phone buzzed in your purse.

Never thought I'd be happy about getting stood up :) -George

You smiled, heart thrumming with excitement for the next day.

***

George Weasley was surprisingly prompt, arriving five minutes early with a small, elegantly wrapped bouquet of daisies.

"You didn't have to bring me flowers," you shook your head at him with a smile, but you couldn't hide the fact that you were glowing at his gentlemanliness.

"I know," he smiled, "but you mentioned they were your favorite and my landlady is a florist." In the warm lighting of your apartment's kitchen, you could see the pastel pink tint to his cheeks and found yourself fighting the urge to press a kiss to each of them.

You placed the delicate flowers in a water filled vase with a gentle wave of your wand. Before reaching the door you made one last check of your hair and makeup in a mirror above a small table that held your keys for when you needed to drive.

"How do I look?" You asked, doing a small twirl for the redhead.

His warm, caramel colored eyes raked up and down, from your carefully curled hair, to your soft sundress, to the strappy sandals on your feet. He was so lost in his head trying to figure out how he had gotten so lucky that he almost forgot to answer you.

"Absolutely perfect," he responded, the words coming out soft and slow, dripping with amazement.

You beamed, your insides feeling all warm as if liquid gold had filled you up from head to toe, "Shall we then?"