Edenic

Only 3 blurbs left loves! Hopefully I’ll be finishing them off tonight and posting them tomorrow!

“I know, he showed me,” Y/N responded to something her best friend said, something Ron hadn’t quite caught. The knowledge of who the ‘he’ may have been overwhelmed him with anger, however, and his grip tightened on his quill, almost snapping it in two.  He closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath in and opening his eyes before exhaling.

He began writing again, eyes darting back and forth from the blackboard that was filled with the quick and elegant script of Professor McGonnagal. Soon enough, too soon, in fact, he heard another mention of the dreaded, “him”, coming from the lips of the same pretty girl whose words he’d been trying to ignore for fear of breaking his quill.

“He said so himself, Hannah,” Ron’s parchment tore under the sudden strength of his quill pressed against it, causing ink to reach the neat, polished oak of his desk. Instead of trying to clean it up, or fix the essay he’d been writing on the transfiguration of objects into living things, he found himself turning around to face his flame and her friend, his eyes flashing angrily.

“Y/N, we could all do with a little less talk about your boyfriend while trying to focus on our work,” his tone was surprisingly official, and he felt puzzled at the astonished look the y/e/c eyed girl gave him at his oddly aggressive statement.

“I’m sorry, what?” she muttered in response, a confused frown appearing on her face.

“The ‘he’ you keep mentioning? Your new boyfriend, or whatever…” the auburn haired boy’s attempt to sound careless caused his face to turn a radiant shade of red, “No one wants to hear about it.”

“First of all, you really shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” Y/N retorted, her tone unexpectedly calm, a hint of amusement present in her words.

“Second of all, I was talking about my older brother. I don’t have a boyfriend.” she stated, a mocking smirk appearing on her face. “No need to get jealous.”

“I wasn’t– I’m not–Shut up,” he turned back to his ink splattered assignment, feeling his ears burn with the same red tint that now completely covered his cheeks. Thoughts rushed through his mind, and before he could stop himself, he had turned back around, feeling the heat of his blushing face strengthen when she looked up and her eyes met his.

“Yes, Weasley?”

“Y/N, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” his words were rushed, nervous, barely comprehensible, but the smile that spread across her face showed him she was more than aware of what he had just said.

“I’d really like that. Provided I’m allowed to talk about my brother without being told off, of course,” she teased and he felt a smile flickering on his own face.

“You can talk about whatever you like, Y/N. As long as you let me take you out.”

Y/N’s step quickened when she finally spotted the tall, auburn-haired figure she’d been looking for since the beginning of the week. Shoving past clearly irritated students in the corridor and ignoring the “Watch it"s that followed her rushed paces, she finally reached the broad back of Ron Weasley, grabbing him by the shoulder and watching, slightly skeptical, as he spun around on his heel to face her. His eyes darted away from hers and fixated on the stone wall behind her instead, prompting a frown to appear on her face.

“Are you avoiding me?” her eyes narrowed with the question that slipped past her lips instead of a ‘hello’.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he shrugged, his eyes still refusing to meet hers.

“Ron, why are you avoiding me?” she attempted to meet his eyes, her head moving to wherever his eyes wandered. It didn’t quite work, however, his eyes still rushing to avoid hers.

“Ronald.” she crossed her arms on her chest and finally he looked at her, a strange absence lingering in his irises.

“Yeah?” she noticed the knuckles of his left hand cracking under the pressure of his right as he spoke, a nervous habit that was too familiar for her to give up on finding out what was happening.

“I know you’re avoiding me now. I just don’t know why,” the hurt in her voice prompts his lips to open slightly, but as soon as he notices, he presses them back into the previous, nervous expression.

“I’m not avoiding you, alright. We just haven’t crossed paths is all.”

“And that’s why you can’t even look me in the eye?” she frowns at his explanation, her voice cracking slightly, along with the edges of his heart. Unable to watch the wounded expression on her face, he takes a deep breath, and cracking his knuckles a final time, tells a truth that had been weighing him down for weeks.

“Y/N, I think I’m in love with you. And that scares the hell out of me. And I know you can do much better, and I know we’re just friends and you’re interested in what’s-his-face, but I can’t help it. So I thought staying away was the best way to, y'know… Avoid this messing up our friendshi–”

His soliloquy is interrupted by her lips pressed to his, leaving his lungs empty of air and his hands shaking slightly as they found their way to her waist.

Pulling away only seconds later, she beams at him, her fingers slipping between his: “Well, all you had to do was say so.”

People were everywhere, dancing joyfully across the makeshift dancefloor, many of their faces graced with droplets of exhilarated sweat. The familiar red coats of Durmstrang were scattered through multicoloured silk gowns and ironed black dress robes. It was a flurry of excitement, really, one that seldom happened in the halls of Hogwarts, happy and careless.

George Weasley found himself separated from the crowd, standing by one of the many round tables that remained perfectly neat despite the nearing end of the Yule Ball, and their repeated use throughout the night. Something about the crowd just didn’t appeal to him at that moment, and so a goblet full of firewhiskey appeared in his hand and he sat at a chair with pale satin thrown over it, watching the party with a small smile on his face.

A shadow soon covered his lap, prompting him to look up and find Y/N standing by him, hands on her hips and a face which clearly tried to substitute worry for anger.

He could practically feel his face light up at the sight of her. A dress the colour of light champagne cascaded down her body, hugging her hips in a way that was indescribably and unexplainably captivating, and before he knew it, he was standing up, towering over her by a few inches.

“Why aren’t you dancing with everyone else?” despite her frown, she fails to repress the slight worry at the life of the party being sat at its side rather than in its center.

“I was waiting,” his face is now graced with a grin, a mischievous glint hiding in his eyes.

“What for?” she narrows her eyes at his response.

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@immobulusmalfoy​ here you go love, I changed it around a bit, but I hope you don’t mind! xoxo

Loud cheers and laughter overpowered every thought that may have otherwise been running through Y/N’s mind as she poured a glass of gigglewater for herself. The Gryffindor house was tasked with organising the post-exam celebration this year, and its members were definitely up to it: banners in all four house colours were plastered on the walls, charmed paper cranes in the very same hues fluttering around happily, presumably the work of Hermione Granger.

Having filled her goblet to the brim, Y/N, brought it to her lips, taking a sip, which was spat out in surprise only seconds later.

“Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck,” she muttered to herself as she placed the goblet on one of the many tables placed around the room and moved in the direction opposite to the all-too-familiar seventh year Slythern who’d just entered with his usual posse.

She made her way through a thickening crowd, repeatedly apologising for bumping into people she barely knew and keeping her eyes glued to the ground in order to avoid ones she didn’t expect or want to see. As she absentmindedly walked past her classmates, she found herself bumping into a tall, auburn-haired figure. It soon turned around, a grin on the boy’s face and a sigh of relief slipping from her lips when she realised it was a familiar one.

“Weasley, thank god,” she spoke, only then realising how out of breath she was from the rush of her getaway.

“That is my name. Well, one of them,” George Weasley retorted, clearly tipsy.

“My ex just walked in here with a bunch of his cronies,” she continued, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to smile at her above the edge of his goblet as he took another sip of firewhiskey, “Could you just pretend we’re really deep in conversation so he wouldn’t come over? Please?” she pleaded.

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♫Freckles and Constellations- Dodie Clark// HP- George Weasley x Reader

Request:  George Weasley x reader? With this song if you don’t mind: https://youtu.be/MXnC04foULQ Btw I love how you write! :)

A/N: This song is so beautiful, I loved writing to it so much! I hope you like it!

She heard a knock at her window through her dazed state of sleep. Frowning, eyes closed, she pulled the duvet cover over her head, assigning the sound to her lulled state.

Another knock. And another, booming louder than the others.

The duvet was rapidly whisked off, her frowning face darkening as she took bitter, long strides to her bedroom window, her hands angrily pulling the pale red curtains to the side. The frown was replaced with a raised eyebrow and a big smile, her head slightly shaking as she unlatched the window, letting the two red haired figures fly into the room, their roaring laughter bouncing off the walls as their brooms descended onto the carpet-covered floor, soon discarded against the wall.

“Helloooo”, Fred’s boisterous voice was full of pride at the loophole they’d found to the many restrictions placed on the girls’ dormitories.

“What are you doing here?”, Y/N asked, laughter in her voice but not a hint of surprise.

“It was a slow day”, George shrugged with a big smile sitting bright on his freckled face as he wandered around the room, picking random items up and putting them back down immediately.

“Where are all the other girls?”, a faint disappointment was clear in Fred’s voice as he looked around the room.

“The common room. You know, with all the sane people?”, Y/N said sarcastically, nodding towards the dorm door.

“Right. I’ll be right back.”, Fred fumbled, winking at his brother and walking backwards towards the door, finally opening it and disappearing into the faintly lit corridor.

As the door closed, Y/N looked at George, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Wait for it…”, she whispered, nudging him slightly.

Seconds later, an exasperated yelp was heard, coming from the spellbound staircase.

“The charms work on the way down too”, she shrugged, smirking victoriously at her best friend.

George laughed, the sound roaming around the room, filling it with an unfamiliar warmth: “Seems like you’ve learned a thing or two from me”, a lighthearted wink playing on his permanently cheerful face.

The crackle of fire faintly fought through their chatter as the night went on, the twilight of their arrival turning into a moonlit night. The hue of the licking flames resembled his the blazing locks that framed his amiable face. A face she loved so well, so gently, so covertly.

Suddenly, George stood up, his usual smile hinted with mystery and adventure. Walking over to the window, he grabbed his broom, mounting it and then abruptly standing completely still, mischievously raising an eyebrow at Y/N.

“You coming?”

“I’m sorry, am I what now?”, a disbelief was present in her voice, a shocked laugh escaping her soft lips.

“Come on, night’s still young.”, he gave her a wink.

The twinkle in his eye made her forget about the rules, about her perfect record, about everything but the promise of the night ahead.

She sat behind him, leaving a few inches of space between them, her hands firmly gripping onto the broom.

“I don’t bite, Y/L/N. Most of the time, anyway.”, he said, faking a serious tone as he grabbed her timid hands and placed them around his waist. 

He didn’t know it then, but she’d felt the spark too, the small electric shock that traveled through his body as she placed her arms on his stomach, tightly gripping onto his sweater.

The open window and the red glow of the fluttering curtains and the flaming brightness of the fire place became a distant view as the crisp autumn air rushed into their laughing faces, the bliss of the surrounding stars isolating them from everything but each other. The cool wind woke her completely, yet she couldn’t convince herself that this wasn’t a dream, soaring into the depths of unknown galaxies with someone like him.

It had been hours, but it felt like mere seconds, before they were sitting at the quidditch pitch bleachers. The foreign calmness surrounded them, an ethereal perfection filling the air.

“The moonlight makes you look unbelievably beautiful.”, he beamed, his hand finding her way to her face and brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. The realisation of what he was doing had caught up to him soon, as he rapidly moved his hand away, intercepted by her own.

“Who told you you could do that?”, an impish frown played on her face as she placed his hand back on her cheek, her eyelids gently closing, a peaceful smile spreading across her lips.

She felt a soft breeze on her face, a mere moment before she felt his lips on hers, his hand still cupping her cheek. She’d never looked up the definition of divine, but suddenly, she was sure this was it, his lips softly brushing against hers, untold words flowing between them, feeling her grin against his lips as he pulled her closer, their buried passion finally revealed in the most beautiful of ways as the moon graced their entangled bodies with its light, the stars giggling with satisfaction.