Weasley Twins Oneshots & Imagines

Against the World (G.W.)

"—and when we've finally opened our own business, you'll be able to visit the store every single day, and of course you could take anything and everything you'd like—"

George was very busy rambling. He was shuffling a deck of cards, sitting in front of the fire in the common room, not paying attention to the fact that he'd shuffled the deck probably close to ten times already. He normally didn't ramble, so when he did, he became very flustered and he talked very, very quickly.

"—and you can help us to market the items and everything! It'll be bloody brilliant—"

His eyes were glistening with excitement. It made your heart race. He was so bloody cute when he was excited. In a mess of fumbling words and nerves beyond belief, George had spilled his guts...about the shop he and Fred were planning to open after leaving Hogwarts in a few years time, and also about his feelings for you. You didn't know which you were more excited about. It all made your heart flutter.

And then he picked you up and spun you around the bustling room, placing you gently on your feet but keeping his hands on your waist. He bit his bottom lip before asking, "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but it's cute," you told him, cupping his chin in your hands.

His cheeks flushed pink.

You pushed his long, red hair out of his eyes and he placed a kiss on your cheek. So young and so in love. He made you blush when he told you, "Can't wait for it to be you and me against the world, love,"

Three years later

The Hogwarts grounds looked different. More gloomy. It didn't help that there were storm clouds covering the whole of the castle. There was a cool chill in the air—the chill of impending war.

Everything had changed.

It felt strange to be back—like it was still home, but there was something missing. It'd been three years since you'd seen the grounds, three years since you were taken into hiding by your parents who were tortured and almost killed for information, three years since you'd left Hogwarts. "For your safety", they'd told you. Three years since you left with no explanation. Three years since you'd seen him.

There had been letters, though. Letters almost every single week for three years. Letters your parents had been retrieving from your home and bringing them to you in hiding. Letters that begged for an answer, for an inkling into what had happened, letters that pleaded for your response. But you weren't allowed to answer, not even just to say that you were alright—not with owls being intercepted every single day.

I do hope you're alright. Write me, yeah? Please give me any sort of indication that you're okay. Things are strange without you here.

You fell into your old four poster almost immediately. It'd been exhausting, begging your parents to come back for your final year, even though it was dangerous. The transfer from home back to Hogwarts was something you'd been dreaming about since the second you left, but now that you were here, it felt, well...empty. Strange. Like you hadn't missed too much, except you did...because everything had changed, of course.

Things are changing here. It's difficult without you. I miss you more than words can say.

It was already too late to go to any of your morning classes, so you strolled around the castle, waiting to see anyone or feel anything that seemed familiar. Nothing, nothing, nothing made you finally feel complete—not until you saw him through the crowd.

He was taller, now. His hair was a lot shorter, but still just as bright red. He was holding his bag full of books over his shoulder and had stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed you on the other end of the corridor. His twin, Fred, was next to him, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder before he walked in the opposite direction, smiling to himself.

Please be safe, please come back to me.

George was still standing there. The rest of the corridor was empty—everyone would be in their next classes by now. Tears poked at the back of your eyes when you saw him take a deep breath and surrender, dropping his bag to the floor with a loud thump. You grinned nervously at him, swallowing over a lump in your throat, and slowly raised a hand. A small smile tugged at the end of his lips. He didn't even finish raising his hand before he was running to you.

His embrace was all you needed for it to feel like home again. The familiarity of his arms around your waist, the feeling of his hands in your hair—there wasn't much to it; his embrace was more than enough.

Everything finally felt right again.

"You're really here," he breathed without breaking hold. His cool, deep voice washed over you and it sent chills down your spine. "It's real, you're really here, three bloody years—"

"I wanted to tell you," you choked out through falling tears. "I wanted to, I did, I got all of your letters but my mum, my parents—they wouldn't let me answer, they wouldn't let me give any indication that I was okay—they were tortured for information and they took me into hiding, George, I didn't want to leave you, these have been the most painful three years of my life—"

He cut you off by slamming his lips onto yours. It was disoriented and rushed and clumsy and hungry—there was nothing slow and easy about it, but you didn't care. You'd waited three years for this, pleading with whatever higher power there was up above, hoping that he was waiting for you, too.

Your lips moved in sync together very quickly, your body pressed up against his, his arms tightly wound around your back, you pulling gently on his tie, the world around you in a blur. When you finally parted, you noticed his bloodshot, glassy eyes—had he been holding back tears in his surprise, too?

"I waited," he told you, "and everyone told me I was crazy for doing so, but—"

"You waited for me?" you asked, even though you knew the answer, but hearing him say so was just so surprising to you. Someone as charming as George Weasley waited all these years, just for you to return to his arms. "All this time, you...you waited?"

He laughed through his tears and wrapped his hands around the back of your neck, his fingers getting tangled in your long hair. "Of course I waited, darling," he reminded you, his voice breaking slightly, and familiarity was flooding throughout your body. "It's you and me against the world, remember?"

He pressed his lips to yours once more, lifting you off of the ground in a hug so tight it could have broken every bone in your entire body. You'd missed a lot, but you hadn't missed anything as much as you'd missed him.

He pressed his forehead to yours, taking in every piece of the moment, everything leading up to this.

Before you could even say what you were thinking, the love of your life spoke slowly, making your cheeks flush red.

"I would have waited forever for you."