𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

break a leg (g.w)

Opening night of the school production, Romeo and Juliet, leaves George to flirt with his favourite makeup artist — and hopefully land a date with the girl of his dreams.

Warnings: MUGGLE!AU, HIGH SCHOOL!AU

Word Count: 843

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Chatter filled the room as crew members passed from left to right.  Some were covered from head to toe in costume, running through lines in an attempt to calm their bustling nerves. Others worked to prepare the stars for opening night. An entire semester's heart and soul would soon be played out on stage.

George took a moment to peak between the ruby curtains.  The lights remained bright, welcoming friends and family to converse before the show.  George gulped when he spotted his red-headed family, each of them bickering as they squeezed into their seats.

George's head whipped around at the sound of the show's director as he was guided backstage towards hair and makeup.  George smiled as he passed familiar faces.  Tybalt, Mercutio, Juliet.  The Shakespearean play had not sounded promising when George had first signed up.  But, with hopes to see Y/N  Y/L/N at the auditions, he had taken the opportunity without a second thought.

Although you hadn't gotten a part in this year's school production, you would instead be backstage, helping prep the cast in any way that you could.  And that was good enough for George to claim the lead role of Romeo Montague.

Carefully slipping through the wooden door, he was met with a wall lined in mirrors.  He stared at his reflection for a moment, barking out a laugh when he found his costume in the glass. At each table sat a makeup artist and hair stylist at the ready.  George took a breath before finding an empty spot at your station.

"Why hello, there," George chimed, sliding into the cushioned chair before you.

You smirked at the sight of his puffy sleeves, each once adorned in lace while tucked beneath a rugged vest.  You couldn't help your smug expression.  It wasn't common that George abandoned his hand-me-down uniform.

With a smile, you began to dig through your drawers.

George watched with wide eyes as you pulled out a long stick of black eyeliner, accompanied by a fluffy brush and various shades of powder.

"Is that all necessary?" George asked, beginning to toy with the trim of his blouse.  You could sense the shakiness in his voice.

"This is theatre, George," you teased, beginning to tie his hair back, "Go big or go home!"

You discovered long ago that George had only joined the Drama Club in hopes of spending time with you.  He hadn't been subtle when he stayed back after school to help with set design — insisting that he would not let you work all alone.  In all honesty, you hadn't expected him to last so long.

But as you ran your fingers through his soft, ginger hair, you could not deny that your heart began to beat a little bit quicker whenever he was around.

George's breath hitched when you reached for his face.

"So," you began, urging him to close his eyes as you prepped his skin, "you excited for opening night?"

George's lips curved when your soft fingers glided across his face.

"I suppose so," George shrugged, "Charlie says the ladies will love me."

You stifled a laugh, causing George to crack an eye open.

"What?" George smirked, "Is the lace not attractive?"

You only shook your head, forcing him to close his eyes once more.

George relaxed as a small brush swept over his eyelids.  Conversations with you always brought out the cheeky side of George.  Whether he was pestering you in the halls or leaving not-so-anonymous notes in your locker, something about your presence left his words falling faster than his mind could comprehend.

"Woah," George breathed, tilting his head to catch a glance of himself in the mirror, "I've never been so pale!"

"Oh, sit still," you scolded, cupping his face in your hands as you dipped your brush in a bright pink powder.  But George could see the smile tugging at your lips.

"Ten minutes 'till showtime!" Luna Lovegood called, causing squeals to erupt from around the room.

You watched as George's shoulders tensed, his once rosy cheeks turning pale as the seconds ticked by. Despite appearing confident during rehearsals, George was out of his element.  Not one of his pranks could compare to the nerves he was feeling right now.

Turning his seat to face the mirror, you placed your palms against his stiff shoulders.

"If you're worried about what Fred will say, don't be," you smiled, using a stick of eyeliner to place a dot on George's cheek, "The audience will love you."

George shrugged, locking eyes with you in the mirror.

"There's really only one girl I was hoping to impress tonight."

George felt his cheeks flush when you pressed a kiss to his skin.

"Well then, colour me impressed."

"Romeo? Juliet? We need you on stage!" the director called, coaxing George from his spot at your station.

"Break a leg," you smiled.

But you stumbled back when George's clips crashed onto yours.

"For good luck," George mused, sending you a wink as he was ushered out the door.

And as the curtains were drawn open, the silhouette of the audience coming into view, George only had one image on his mind.

And that was the image of Y/N Y/L/N beneath his arm when all of this was over.