Weasley Twins Oneshots & Imagines

Promise (G.W.)

The Great Hall's decorations put everyone else's to shame. The snow covered Christmas trees were glistening and the ornaments were sparkling in the moonlight. It was nothing short of magical.

However, a cold front had come and had swept itself across the castle grounds. With each step you took, the grass crunched beneath your feet, your fingers felt frostbitten beneath your gloves, and you could feel your nose turning a bright shade of red. You must've been resembling a very famous reindeer. But you loved Christmastime at the castle—there was absolutely nothing more beautiful.

You sighed deeply as you took a seat at the Gryffindor table and gently placed your books beside you. You couldn't think about your work, not now—not when the holidays were in full swing. You quickly poured a bit of pumpkin juice into your glass and sipped slowly.

Something shiny appeared beside you. It looked as though it was a maroon colored ornament with the Gryffindor crest on it. You grinned to yourself, picked it up and asked, "So when is this going on the tree?"

George Weasley sat down next to you and watched as you closely examined the ornament. "Tonight?" he said, but it was more of a question. "As long as you've not a lot of work to finish,"

For six years and counting, you'd had a tradition with the twins. It was something that started almost as an accident your first year, but you've kept going ever since. Every Christmas holiday, you, Fred, and George would pick and decorate one tiny tree in the courtyard, just because you could. You thought the professors would be angry, but they seemed to quite enjoy it—probably because it was the one time out of the year that Fred and George weren't doing something mischievous. You'd all bring different ornaments and decorations from home and make a night of it, ending by the fire in the common room with a delicious cup of hot cocoa. Of course, the twins had many, because Mrs. Weasley loved to decorate. Her home was always perfectly decorated and cozy during the holidays.

Peering down at the ornament, you noticed a small "G.W." scribbled in the corner, underneath the Gryffindor crest. Your heart nearly sank. It was adorable. "Did you make this one?"

"I was about five, I think," George told you, pondering for a moment. "Mum and Dad had told Freddie and me stories about Hogwarts and the houses, and one year we made those ornaments, and I decided I wanted to be in Gryffindor, so I made that. Thank Merlin I didn't get placed into a different house." He laughed.

Just then, Fred sat down across from you two, ornaments in his hands, as well. "Are you ready, Y/N? I love our yearly tradition."

"Wouldn't be a Hogwarts Christmas if we didn't decorate, Freddie!" you told him excitedly as you placed the ornament gently on the table next to your plate. You turned back to George and said sweetly, "That's just about the cutest thing I've ever seen, Georgie."

"Yeah?" he asked and smirked at you. "How cute?"

"Really cute."

Fred audibly cleared his throat, and you noticed him roll his eyes from across the table. He wasn't exactly hiding it. He smiled mischievously at you when you tried to distract him from you and George. "Tonight, then?" you asked, watching Fred closely.

"Tonight." they said in unison.

The cool, snowy air washed over you and sent chills down your spine, all the way to your toes. It was so toasty in the common room, and you felt as though you were going to turn to an icicle almost immediately! But it was worth it, your yearly traditions.

It seemed kind of silly doing this, now, almost Hogwarts graduates, but it was something that the three of you loved most about the holiday season. It just wouldn't be the same if you hadn't done it.

You each placed your small boxes of decorations on the ground in the snow and began to decorate the tree you'd picked out a few days prior. The twins were so tall, it was about half their size—it was perfect. You started the way you always did, with the star first. George smiled at you.

About forty five minutes later, the tree was nearly finished—all it needed was an extra set of lights. The three of you were shivering and the snow was beginning to fall again. Your gloves were soaked through and you winced. "I'll run inside and get some dry pairs," Fred offered, leaving you and George in the cold.

The star was a bit lopsided, and you decided to try and fix it, even with your cold, numb hands. While you were doing so, George asked you, "Why do you do the star first?"

"In all these years we've been friends, you've never once asked me that, you know," you grinned.

Pulling his coat tighter around him, George said, "I know, but...now I'm curious."

You could humor him, you supposed. As you continued to try and fix the lopsided star, you began, "It was something my parents started when I was little," you sniffled, the cold making your nose all stuffy. "Every year, as soon as we'd stand the tree up in our home, my dad would hold me up and fly me over to the tree, like an aeroplane, and I'd place the star on top, before we did anything else. No ornaments, no garland, no lights. Just the star. It just sort of became a tradition." He was smiling at you. "And now, obviously, since I'm older, we can't do that anymore, but...I always still put the star on top first. I have to, it's just—the way I'm wired, I suppose. It's got my initials on it too, see?" After trying to fix it, you took the star off of the tree and turned it over to show George, your scribbled initials from when you were three years old. He peered at it, and you carefully placed it back on top, where it belonged, perfectly straight.

"Like an aeroplane, huh? You mean like this?"

Without hesitation, George picked you up and spun you around, definitely not like that of an aeroplane, but it made the butterflies in your stomach twirl. Your laughter and screams echoed through the courtyard, but still, the falling snow made the rest of the world seem silent.

When he placed you down, you noticed the tops of his ears turning red from the cold. He said to you, "That's just about the cutest thing I've ever heard, Y/N."

"Yeah?" you asked him, smirky slightly.

Suddenly, something appeared above the two of you. Some type of plant, of sorts, began to materialize above your heads, growing consistently in size. Your heart started to pound.

"That's mistletoe we're standing under," he told you with a mischievous sound in his voice. "You know what that means, don't you?"

You inched closer to him, suddenly feeling very warm in the falling snow. You were certain your cheeks were flushed. "Are you going to kiss me, Weasley?"

He winked at you. "Maybe,"

"Is that a promise?"

"Oh, it's definitely a promise."

Suddenly, a loud "Oi!" came from somewhere near the castle. Both you and George jumped in your spots and turned towards the doors. It was then completely, eerily silent. You noticed a bit of red hair stick out from behind one of the statues, and you giggled. "Give it up, Freddie."

Without moving a muscle, Fred said through gritted teeth, "I swear, I did not just set this entire bloody thing up for you to say "maybe" and flirt terribly, so for Merlin's sake, George, would you just kiss her already?" You were pretty sure he wandered into the castle as soon as he said it.

Before George could even respond, you grabbed him by his coat and pulled him close to you, gently pressing your lips to his. You felt his surprise, but then he seemed to melt into it, wrapping his arms around your waist and tightening his hands around your hips. His lips were soft and he tasted like candy canes. George's fingers got tangled in your hair, leaving chills along the back of your neck. Years in the making, it proved very difficult to separate, but when you did, you gently bit his bottom lip, making him sigh into one last kiss before pressing himself close to you.

"Can we make that a yearly tradition, as well?" he asked you, numb and rosy-cheeked from the cold—or maybe from the kiss.

"Maybe," you teased him.

"Is that a promise?" he moaned as he tightened his grip around you. He peered at you once more.

"Most definitely."