《Harry Potter Imagines》

George Weasley👤Unknown

Prompt- You're not well-known in Hogwarts. George starts flirting...and etc. Can't tell too much w/out ruining the story.

Request by @undercover_Fangirl97

A/N- if this was supposed to be written in first person, I'm sorry. I started writing it in second, and was completely finished when I realised what I had done. Again, I'm sorry.

Also, there's a Princess Bride reference. If you find it, kudos to you! I might follow you. I might vote on one of your stories. I might do both. You decide! If you find it, comment and I will either follow you or vote on a story of yours. Or both. You get to decide.

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To the great school of Hogwarts, you were another brick in the wall; you were simply another witch with potential that—because of familial circumstances—would most likely go to waste. Of course, your friends said otherwise, but your social status—or lack thereof—said it all. You weren't destined for greatness by any means. You were just an unknown.

Your family were nonmagical folk, or—as wizarding folk called them—muggles. From birth, you had been destined for failure, struggle, and pain. It wasn't until the fateful day—on which George Weasley had begun to flirt shamelessly with you—that you thought your luck could change.

At first, you had been so used to teasing, you thought he was messing with you. You ran to your dorm immediately, and began to cry. The teasing was painful, and got worse every year, but this was too far. Way too far. Why would he be so evil as to pretend to act interested in you?

Then, you thought about it. What if he was interested in you? What if this wasn't a joke? George Weasley and his twin were known for their jokes, though. You couldn't decide which thought to believe. So, you decided to be hopeful that it wasn't a joke.

The following week, you had been sitting in divination, taking note of who got what symbols in their tea, when a paper bird flew into your cup. Frowning, you plucked the bird from the cup, and opened the paper. You smoothed it out, then read it.

Hey Y/N,
Just wanted to tell you that you've got the portkey to my heart.
-George Weasley

At this point, you believed this to be an elaborate joke. You were a nobody in this huge school of many somebodies. If George Weasley truly liked you, that would mean that he had found a nobody and made them a somebody.

You believed that to be inconceivable.

Then it happened again. George kept giving you letters, and winking, and smiling at you. Every week. He flirted like there was no other woman on Earth. You couldn't help but to feel like you had become a somebody.

Eventually, the Yule Ball was the topic of discussion at Hogwarts. You were on the verge of happiness when the date was first announced to the students.

After having gone to your dorm for the night, you laid on your bed, wondering whether George would ask you to the Ball. There was a high chance, seeing as he was constantly flirting with you.

In order to settle the raging butterflies in your stomach, you decided not to dwell on it any longer.

The following morning, you had finished breakfast, and had begun to finish an essay for Snape. Although it was due in two periods, you chose to get it done with the time remaining for breakfast.

Suddenly, you felt a presence loom over you. You turned to see a certain ginger flirt settling himself in the seat beside you. You were anxious. What was he doing?

George smiled his mischievous smile, a glimmer of mischief twinkling in his eyes—as always. He rested his left hand on your knee, that being the cause of the panicked expression on your face.

"Go to the Yule Ball as my date. Please," he said. You rose your eyebrows in surprise. Nevertheless, you nodded, a surprised expression still adorning your features.

His already wide smile became wider. He rose from the seat and left, leaving you to collect your thoughts.

The Yule Ball required immense preparation on your behalf. You had owled your mum the week before, asking her to send you a gown, shoes, and makeup. Your mum was gracious enough to send you a loaf of her cinnamon bread as well.

Finally dressed and ready for the Ball, you made your way into the Great Hall. You didn't see George yet, so you decided to get a drink and wait for him.

The Ball was halfway through, and George still hadn't made an appearance. You spotted Fred sitting out, so you made your way over to him. You were nearly to Fred, when you saw George dancing with a Beauxbatons girl. You sped up, eventually just plopping down next to Fred.

Seeing the state you were in, Fred made a few jokes to lighten up your mood. By the end of the Ball, you were completely cheered up, and had forgotten about George entirely.

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Much to the dismay of many, evil had overtaken the entire Wizarding world. This evil had made its way into your former school, Hogwarts.

You had made your way onto the grounds of the school. You were taking in the sight of the school, a shadow of its former glory. You sighed, frowning. The foundations were crumbling, walls were cracking, and the air felt heavy. The atmosphere was no longer one of security and safety, it was one of doom and danger.

Inhaling deeply, you forced your feet to move ahead, to keep going. Many wizards and witches were already fighting. Corpses were strewn across courtyards and halls; the corpses were from both the sides of good and evil.

You found Fred battling it out with a Death Eater. Frowning deeply, you stood beside him and fought. Fred began to laugh at something—you were too into the battle—and a streak of light shot out of the Death Eater's wand. You stood in front of Fred, putting up a deflective shield.

The spell bounced off the shield, and onto the Death Eater. You heard a someone send a hex in your direction, but before you could deflect it, it was too late.

Your vision stopped. Everything went black. You could hear, feel, smell, and taste, but you couldn't see. You felt someone wrap their arms around you as you broke down.

What was happening? Why couldn't you see?

"I can't see," you said quietly.

You felt someone press their lips to yours. Then, just as soon as the kiss had happened, it stopped. The arms lifted you up, and carried you away.

"It's going to be alright, Y/N. We'll get you some help," Fred said from beside you.

"We're going to apparate to St. Mungo's. They might help you regain your sight, or—if not that— cope with your loss of vision," George said from above you. Based on the direction from which his voice was, you assumed him to be the one carrying you.

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You felt a hand squeezing yours. The sounds of breathing and voices made their way to your ears.

"Y/N, sorry for kissing you. I just saw you crying, and wanted to make you feel better. This probably sounds strange to you, but I love you, and after what I did at Yule Ball, I've never forgiven myself for hurting you. I'm sorry again...for being a bloody git," George said.

You sighed, sinking into the pillows. After all these years, he finally apologised. Not that you cared. You had forgiven him as soon as Fred got you cheered up.

"George, shut up and kiss me again, you bloody git," you said. George did just that.

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As you reflect upon the events, you realise that George made an Unknown into a Known; he made a nobody into a somebody.

Smiling at the memories, you stroke the sleeping face of your beloved, whom you would never see again. You would smell, feel, and hear him, but never see him.