❝One cannot expect immediate change of heart from someone who has learnt to point out faults in them. You were content with the eerie silence your fight with George brought you, but how long will that last?❞
PART 02 OF ARRANGED
PAIRING: George Weasley x fem!Reader
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A relief from the mess I left the last chapter in. Hoping you enjoy- I sure did writing it! Do comment and reblog, it makes my day<3
WARNING(S): Violence, blood, injuries, passing out, mentions of food and drink.
WORD COUNT: 3,095
"Fuck fuck fuck," you breathed, touching your arm and finding blood there. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment you tried to recall all the things that transpired in the last hour. Stealing and running away with the papers was easy, but you had seen an elf in pain and you had to save them. Death eaters had caught on and you hid in the nearest hall. Darkness surrounded you, tall daunting shelves seemed too close.
"He was right here!" a voice came from behind you, making the hair on your neck stick up. You wondered if someone could hear your hammering heart.
"Then bloody go find him!"
Breathing slowly, you tried to think clearly. There must be a way out. Crouching low, you tiptoed towards the last shelf. Careful not to touch anything; you casted spells covering your tracks. You heard some faint footsteps and gulped. So you weren't the only one hiding in the shadows.
"I know you're here. I'm going to find you and hand you over to the dark lord. Oh how is he going to award me for finding the person who was stealing our plans!"
Moving your palm, you unconsciously felt the parchment under your fingers. Treading forward slowly and cautiously, you suppressed a shiver as blood tickled down your elbows. Getting caught now would put everything at risk. Not just your own life, but also the order. You were starting to regret saving the elf now. Reaching the end of your bracelet, you touched the small button hearing it click. This was it.
"Nunc," you whispered.
There was a huge explosion at the door and the person after you shrieked revealing his position. Shouts and screams surrounded you as you stunned the man who stood there wide-eyed. Catching his wand mid-air, you bolted towards the other door. Almost there. You could see someone pointing their wand at you at the corner of your eye, but you had already crossed the threshold; apparating into nothingness.
Head whirling, you groaned when you reached the public washroom. Casting the main door lock shut, you took your jacket off. Your arm was bleeding badly, the red of the blood was almost black now. Taking out dittany, you hissed as it fell over the wound closing it. It stung, you had to grit your teeth to stop yourself from grunting out in pain. When it started to look almost normal, you removed the rest of your clothes, washing your face and arms of the makeup and dirt. Looking into the mirror, you stared at your reflection for a moment.
Removing the hair wig, you slipped into some cleaner clothes and kept the document safe inside your bag. Chugging some water, you allowed yourself to breathe deeply before removing any sign of being in the washroom. Sighing, you finally apparated to Weasley's— your apartment.
Things had been quiet after Bellatrix's appearance, it was almost like you were waiting for another shoe to drop. You never saw him, he left before you woke up, stayed in his room all the while. It stung sometimes, yes, but you weren't complaining. Him being away gave you enough time to plan your missions and sneak out in the middle of the night. Opening the door, as noiselessly as possible you took off your shoes before entering.
"Where have you been?" a voice came and you froze. Biting your lip, you turned around slowly watching him stare at your form, leaning against the wall. Suddenly you were very aware of the gash in your arm. You did cast some charms over it but it would still be visible under close scrutinisation.
"I went to take a walk," you said as nonchalantly as possible.
"In the middle of the night?"
"I couldn't sleep."
There was a beat of silence as the two of you just studied each other. George's hair was tousled, the comfortable shirt wrinkled as if he just got out of bed. The way his eyes searched your face, it was hard to maintain composure.
"We both know that's bullshit," he said, walking towards you. "And this is not the first time either, you're never here at night."
You narrowed your eyes at him as he stood in front of you, arms crossed. You never even had an inkling that he noticed.
"So tell me, where are you off to every night?"
He was so close to you it was becoming hard to think. You were already exhausted from the mission.
"It's none of your business—"
"And what's up with your arm," he said, touching it, making you back away whimpering. A jolt went up through it and you saw a white light flash between your eyes. You vaguely registered George's arms around you before there was darkness.
-♡♡♡-
Your head was thumping louder than a drum as you blinked slowly, trying to sit up.
"Don't move. Lay back."
The fuzziness slowly cleared away as you made out your room and the blankets laid over you. George sat on the edge of the bed and handed you a glass of water which you drank greedily. Trying to remember what transpired before, you furrowed your eyes before seeing your hand wrapped in bandages. It occurred to you then, that George must have taken care of you.
"I fainted," you pointed out, more to yourself. George hummed and heaved a sigh sitting in silence.
"Look," he began, his voice softer than you had ever heard before. "I know you wouldn't tell me where you go out every night, but just— just tell me whether or not you work for the death eaters. As the person living with you, I am allowed that much information, don't you think?"
Shutting your eyes, you exhaled deeply. His voice sounded desperate, you thought how you would be in a similar situation. Knowing George must have already snooped through your bag while you were out, you thought about what to tell him. You mentally thanked Moody for training you to disguise every small item that you had.
"I do not work for the death eaters," you said gradually, your head aching still. "I work for the order, so does my father; your mum and dad already know that. My missions are usually undercover so most of you didn't know anything about what I did. You weren't supposed to."
"Oh," he breathed out, something flickering in his brown eyes. "Then why did mum and dad know but I didn't?"
"Well," you pondered on how to gently put it. George was being polite to you for the first time and you didn't want to spoil it. "I did think about telling you before the wedding itself but, you weren't exactly..."
"Friendly," he prompted, making you open and shut your mouth, narrowing your eyes.
"...approachable."
George smiled awkwardly at that, making the tension in your shoulders ease a little. Unsure about what to do next, you placed your hand on your lap while George sat there mutely.
"Oh and I wanted to ask you," George said furrowing his eyebrows. "What exactly have you been eating lately?"
"Ramen, fruits, protein bars— oats at times, why?"
"Ramen as in the instant noodles we have?" he asked as you nodded slightly. "You'll get sick. No wonder you fainted so quickly— why don't you make yourself something? We do have veggies and meat in the fridge..."
Flushing in your position, you wondered what to say.
"Idon'tknowhowtocook," you grumbled, looking away.
"What?"
"I don't know how to cook, okay?" you said mentally chiding yourself. "The house elf didn't let me do anything and at Hogwarts, I never had to."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked carefully.
"We don't precisely talk now, do we?" you snapped, not feeling good being interrogated for long. George huffed, but said nothing and left the room. Squeezing your eyes shut, you regretted your response. You couldn't mull over it however, the documents weighing heavier on your mind.
You tried to get up, but your head rolled badly so you had to sit back down. Maybe you would have to wait until you got better this time. Lying down, you closed your eyes, not realizing when you fell asleep.
A gentle hand on your shoulder woke you, as you clumsily rose up again. George helped you and lazily placed a bowl of steaming stew, some rice and bread rolls on a bed-table for you. Gaping a little, you felt surprised at the unexpected gesture. Weasley turned to leave but you held his hand stopping him.
"Thank you," you whispered kindly as he gave you the smallest of smiles before leaving again. Taking the bowl in your hand you felt it's warmth seeping through the ceramic inhaling the aroma. Perhaps, perhaps it wasn't so bad afterall.
-♡♡♡-
The next few weeks passed smoothly. George made sure to make you some food along with his own and you were thankful. It had been time since you had had three proper meals a day. You worked through most of the day, deciphering all the documents you had found, planning your next move. Meeting your partners at night had become a daily routine, it was nice seeing friendly faces amidst everything. That was not to say George was still being as hateful as he was before.
After knowing you were operating for the order, he had become cordial towards you. As a matter of fact you found him making efforts to talk to you, often leading to chats longer than you thought it was possible. You were skeptical at first, but slowly started to give in. Especially after he apologised all of a sudden one day.
"I'm sorry," he said as you worked on your paper. Looking up, you furrowed your eyebrows as George struggled with words. "I'm sorry about how I treated you, how I took out my anger on you. I shouldn't have."
You had simply nodded then, you weren't sure you were ready to put everything behind. Both of you were trying, that felt enough then. It was all that made a difference.
Your feet ached as you opened the door to your apartment, the night had been far too long and exhausting. George sat at the coffee table, furiously scribbling on his parchment. You had quickly learnt that he had trouble falling asleep, the two of you usually spent that time together before finally going off to bed. He observed you as you entered, lips turning up in acknowledgement.
"Hey."
"Hey."
You coerced yourself to look away from him, it felt like you always had something to tell him yet steeled yourself before you could. Maybe it was the fear of crossing some invisible lines, or the unsaid agreement you two were living in. You couldn't pinpoint what you were, friends or just two people who needed to share a house to stay alive. It was the former that you preferred, but life had always prepared you for the worst.
Changing into some comfortable clothes, you moved to the kitchen to scourge for a snack.
"There's some pie in the fridge, mum dropped by at work today," George's voice came and you let out a "thank you" in response. Heating up the pie, you served yourself a small portion, stomach growling at the smell. You retired to the coffee table across from George, eating contently.
"Please do tell your mom this was absolutely delicious, I don't think I've ever had one like this," you hummed, taking another bite.
"Tell her that yourself," he said robotically, not looking up. "She would be all over you."
"'ould call you the best daughter-in-law," he added before he could stop himself. You froze as he looked up at you, opening and closing his mouth.
"I—" he stumbled, unable to find the right words. "I'm— I mean—"
"It's okay George," you laughed, tone light compared to what you felt. "We're married, I do realise that."
It was silence again, the one that made you uncomfortable and squirm in your seat. You started to speak before you could stop yourself.
"I guess if I can't be the best wife, at least I get that title for the daughter-in-law," you said, squeezing your eyes shut, wincing at your own words. George to your surprise, let out a snort.
"One of us has really got to be the better 'in-law'," he said, his eyes twinkling. "For balancing purposes. Your father is a scary man."
"My father is scary?" you repeated, eyes widening at the confession.
"Maybe not to you. He just looks like he would kill anyone who would dare to hurt his daughter."
You snorted at that. It was true, your father was a protective man.
"Unlike my mother," George continued. "Who keeps drilling me to treat you properly."
"Well," you smirked, ignoring how your heart swelled at those words. Molly's kindness always got to you. "I do deserve to be treated like a queen."
George rolled his eyes playfully before diverting his attention back to the papers in front of him. You ate quietly, the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of quill filled the house.
"Hey—"
"George—"
The two of you chuckled before you gestured for George to go first.
"Mum asked me to invite you to the family gathering next weekend," he said hastily between his teeth.
"Oh," you said. Concentrating over your next words, you spoke carefully. "Do you want me to be there?"
"Does it make a difference?" George questioned, his throat bobbing. He had been rather shocked when his mother had asked him.
"Why?" was all he could let out as Fred's face twisted up.
"Because like it or not, George— she is your wife, and not what you all make her to be. I've heard about her from," Molly stopped herself before she could reveal more. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that she is family now."
"Yes it does."
George looked at you, his expression softening as you bit your lip waiting for his response. He had been playing a dangerous game, opening up to you little by little, being surprised with what he found. You weren't anything like he made you to be, and he couldn't help but grow on you.
"Yeah I do," he answered at last. "I want you there."
Hearing so you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. Somehow George wanting you to be there made you mentally comply with the invitation. You had never been with a family like the Weasleys, big yet so close knit. Wondering whether you'll ever fit with them made your stomach turn. His siblings hated you, your brain reminded you bitterly. Their mannerisms towards you proved that.
George appeared to pick up on your lowered expression, changing the topic.
"And what were you saying?" he said as you shook yourself.
"Yeah. Um— have you always had insomnia?" you asked as George blinked. You continued. "Sorry, it's just that you never sleep, I thought I could recommend some of the medicines my healer made me take as a child."
"I couldn't sleep after the war," he replied gently, fingers drumming against the table. "I never feel safe enough, it's— I'm always in my head, you know?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that," you said, your heart skipping remembering all those times you spent awake through the night. "Why don't you take any sleeping potions?"
"Don't wanna be dependent on them."
A hush fell over the two of you again, George awkwardly shuffled through the sheets, you debated whether you crossed a line.
"Come on," you said out of the blue, nudging his hand. He raised an eyebrow. "I'll show you a brew that will help you fall asleep. No Valerian Sprigs or sleep ingredients, I swear."
George was unconvinced but he followed you into the kitchen. Taking out a pan you foraged for some milk as George glanced around. Adding in a cup or so you waited for it to heat.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing? You said you can't cook..." George said doubtfully and you narrowed his eyes at him. "I mean, I'm still young and wouldn't like to die from something so trivial," he said as you lightly smacked his arm.
"I made this with my mum," you elaborated. "She knew the sleeping potions were taking a toll on me and used to make this with me when I was particularly restless."
Adding in some honey and vanilla bean paste, you stirred it in slow circles. George studied you as you continued to work, listening in. You looked good when you were so peaceful, your walls down with a genuine expression on your face.
"She made everything sound like a fairytale," you sighed, putting on some cinnamon before mimicking her voice. George found it hard not to lean in. "Some honey to match your sweetness and vanilla to make your taste buds click. She always knew what to say. I wish she was still here."
Closing off the stove, you turned towards George, who had a tender look on his face. Handing him a cup, you motioned him to drink up.
"Are you sure this won't harm me?" George grinned, making you let out an incoherent sound, exasperated. He took a sip and then licked his lips. You found it hard not to stare. "Not the worst thing I've had."
You rolled your eyes, placing your hands on your hips.
"Drink up pretty boy," you commented as George gave you a smug expression that made you instantly regret your words.
"You find me pretty, huh?"
"Shut it."
"Hide it as much as you like, I knew my wife could never not find me pretty."
"Whatever lets you sleep at night," you quipped.
"I'm hoping this brew will," he retorted just as quickly.
You tried. You really tried not to laugh but your mouth quivered and you lost control rolling out hysterically. George felt transfixed at his spot, watching your eyes crinkle and head fall back. Godric, he muttered under his breath, fixed at his spot. Your laugh was contagious. He couldn't stop staring at you.
"I'm sorry," you said through wide cheeks. "I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard."
George let out a shuddering breath but didn't say anything, nodding as you ushered into the living room again. You two talked for a little while there again, until you decided you needed rest for the next morning. That night you and George headed to your rooms, bright smiles adorning your features.
No, it wasn't so bad after all.
let me know what you think ;)