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You huffed as you trudged into the great hall, your eyes cast downward so as to avoid anyone’s gaze. You felt awful, truly, having just declined Eddie Carmichael’s invitation to go to the ball with him. In all honestly, there was no real reason you should feel bad; Eddie and you hardly knew each other and you were certain that you wouldn’t have fun going with someone you weren’t comfortable with. Still, the awkward rejection left you feeling guilty and a bit drained.
You made your way towards your usual spot at the Gryffindor table, but unlike usual you didn’t waste any time on greetings or jumping into the conversation already happening around you. Instead, you began to fill your plate up and refused to meet anyone’s eye. As if on cue, you heard Angelina’s sentence quietly run off and you could feel a few people looking at you, no doubt from your peculiar silence.
“Hey, Y/L/N,” George was the first to attempt conversation, although his voice sounded more sheepish than usual. “Everything alright?”
“‘m fine.” You quickly brushed off his question, finally meeting your friends’ eyes. Alicia, Angelina, Fred, and George were all looking at you skeptically, clearing recognizing that you were not fine. You realized then that they were not going to be resigned to just let this go, so with a sigh you continued. “It’s just… Eddie Carmichael just asked me to the ball.”
“Ah,” Fred nodded in understanding. “That’d have me sulking too.”
Angelina was quick to lean over the table and swat at Fred’s arm, giving him a pointed look before returning more sympathetic attention towards you.
“Did you say yes?” Alicia nudged you from your other side.
“No.” You sighed, beginning to pick at the potatoes on your plate. “I mean, I couldn’t, right? I hardly know the guy. But it was so awkward after, and now I just feel like rubbish.”
“You don’t owe him, or anyone, a yes.” Angelina was quick to reassure you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“Well…” Fred trailed off, throwing his hands up in defense when Angelina shot him another warning glare. “Hey, I’m not saying she owes anyone anything either, but this is, what? The third guy you’ve shot down? Do you not want a date?”
“I do!” You were quick to respond, a little too quick, and everything seemed to click in Fred’s head. A devilish grin upturned on his face, causing your stomach to flip.
“So, you’re just holding out on someone in particular?” Fred teased.
You could feel your cheeks heating up at the insinuation and quickly found yourself ducking your eyes once again. Of course Angelina and Alicia, your best friends, knew who you wanted to ask you. They’d also been set on convincing you for weeks that he would, yet here you were, two weeks out from the ball and he’d still had yet to ask. Drawing in a deep breath, you forced yourself to raise your gaze, letting it shift between the twins across from you. While Fred was smirking, George’s expression was unreadable.
“So what if I am?” You folded your arms. You had been friends with Fred since your start at Hogwarts, and you were well aware that the only way to get him off your back was to seem unbothered.
“Who is it?” George interrupted, although the small grimace on his face made it seem like maybe he didn’t really want to know. Your eyes flickered to him once more as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, weighing your options going forward.
There was no denying that you had feelings for George. While everyone had always seemed to be enamored by the older, more outgoing twin, you had always been more than happy to stay back and admire the quieter, more sensitive one from the sides.
If Fred was the sun, then George was the north star. One surely burned bright, sometimes even obnoxiously so, and always ultimately left you feeling warm. The other was a guiding force, one you could never tire of searching for and always lit up your sky when you needed it most. And, just like the north star, George always felt just out of reach in your solar system.
It wasn’t like you had been subtle with your feelings, in fact you thought you made them the most obvious thing in the world. There was the lingering touches, or the way it was rare that you weren’t beaming in his presence. Not to mention, when the hormones had kicked in and girls began flocking to Fred, you had always been content to sit back at George’s side and laugh at the show his brother put on. Of course, it wasn’t like you had outright said that you fancied him, but you figured you were making it clear. So, that either meant he was the most oblivious boy in the world, or he was avoiding the topic so as not to hurt your feelings. You always hoped it was the former.
“If I tell you guys, you’ll just run off and tell him to ask me.” You decided on simple deflection. “I want him to ask me because he wants to go with me, too. Without anyone having to say it.”
“So, you’ll risk potentially going to the ball alone, because you expect this bloke to read your mind?” Fred raised his brows, quickly jumping back when Angelina went to swat at him again. “Girls are weird.”
You rolled your eyes and laughed lightly at Fred’s latter comment, but you couldn’t ignore the nerves that had settled in your stomach at the former part of his statement. If George didn’t ask you and you kept shutting guys down, there was a very real possibility that you’d end up going to the ball alone. He still didn’t have a date, too, which was the last bit of hope you held onto as you forced yourself to partake in the new direction the conversation had taken.
-
It was now exactly one week until the dance, and it seemed just about everybody had a date, excluding you and George. Alicia had agreed to go with a seventh year Gryffindor who she had been smitten with all year, and her excitement alone lifted your spirits a bit. Fred had yet to officially ask Angelina, but it was a sort of unspoken knowledge that the two would be attending together. As the ball neared and you had to turn two more guys down, your hope that George would ask you was crumbling significantly.
You sat with Hermione and Ginny in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, attempting to pour over your assignments. Your mind was entirely elsewhere, though, so it was hard to focus on anything. Every time your thoughts would wander to a particular ginger twin, you’d let out a small sigh. After nearly the fifth time, Ginny slammed her book closed and looked up at you.
“Alright, Y/N, are you having breathing problems or something?”
“What? No.” You looked up at her in shock. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you were letting out audible signs of your distress.
“Then what’s got you all worked up?” Ginny cocked her head to the side, her braided hair falling round her shoulder.
“It’s just… It’s only a week until the ball…” You sighed, beginning to fiddle with your fingers.
“And George still hasn’t asked you.” Hermione finished the rest of your sentence, not bothering to look up from her textbook.
Your cheeks heated up, and not just from your proximity to the fire. You were friends with Hermione and Ginny, but mainly because you were all in the same house and you were close with Fred and George. You weren’t close with the girls in the same way you were close with Angelina and Alicia, and you’d certainly never talked about your feelings with them before. Ginny’s eyes lit up at the mention of her brother’s name, a small smirk finding its way onto her face.
“You want my brother to ask you?” Ginny clapped her hands together excitedly, a giggle escaping her lips. “Do you fancy him, then?”
“Obviously she does.” Hermione finally closed her textbook, seemingly resigning to the fact that she must get involved with the conversation. Based on her words, your feelings were just as obvious as you had assumed they were, yet you still knew nothing about where George stood.
“I’ve turned down five blokes waiting for him to ask me, and just… Nothing.” You sighed, throwing yourself back to rest on the carpeted floor. “I feel so stupid. Obviously, he just doesn’t want to go with me.”
“I doubt it’s that.” Hermione shook her head. “I mean, you and George are quite close. I’m sure he’d be happy to go with you.”
You wanted to add that he probably would be happy to go with you as friends. Which you’d be happy to do, too, but you craved more with him. At the very least, you longed to know where he stood.
“Listen, Y/N, I grew up with six brothers. Boys are clueless, the whole lot of them.” Ginny paused, a relieved smile finding its way onto her face when you let out a small giggle. “If you really want to go with George, you should just ask him yourself.”
At that suggestion, you sat up once more and glanced between the two girls. She had a point, why couldn’t you just ask him? Who wrote this unspoken rule that it was a guy’s duty to ask? You pondered for a moment longer, biting aimlessly on your bottom lip, before conceding with a nod.
“You know what? I think I will.”
While the decision both terrified and excited you, it also granted you a bit of reprieve from your wandering thoughts. So, the three of you settled back into your quiet tasks, finally able to get some work done.
-
Your nerves had kept you from asking George for a few days after your conversation with Ginny and Hermione. Not to mention, you had hardly seen him anywhere, almost as if he were avoiding you. You had racked your brain, trying to come up with some reason why this would be the case, but ultimately came up empty.
So when you found yourself amongst your peers one day, trying to stay quiet and get work done to avoid Snape’s wrath, you were shocked from the near perfect opportunity. Fred had balled up a piece of paper and tossed it Angelina, who snapped her head up and shot him a quick glare. Her fury melted quickly, though, as he began to mime out asking her to the dance. You watched as she rested her head in her hand and gave him a nod, a cool smile on her lips. You knew on the inside she was bursting with excitement, so by extension you were undeniably excited as well.
Fred’s way of asking had spurred you on, leading you to decide that it was now or never. When you had finished your work, you packed your things and left the hall, but waited idly outside in the corridor for George to exit as well. Luckily, he emerged a few moments after you, and without his partner in crime at his side.
“George!” You beamed excitedly, silently cursing the way your nerves bubbled in your stomach.
“Oh, Y/N. Hey.” He tucked his books into his side as he came to stand in front of you, yet there seemed to be a bit more space than usual. “Look, uh, I’m sorry about that in there.”
“Sorry?” You questioned, your eyebrows furrowing together. What did he have to be sorry about, you thought. He shot you back an equally confused look, before shaking his head and looking down at his shoes.
“Never mind, we don’t have to talk about it.”
“Alright, then.” You held your confusion for a moment longer, before forcing yourself to broach the topic at hand. “Look, I uh, actually wanted to ask you something.”
“Yeah?” He looked up at you once more.
“I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go to the ball together.” You rocked slightly on your heels, anticipation building within you as you awaited his answer.
“Oh,” George looked surprised for a moment, before he seemed to deflate. “I mean, yeah. Sure.”
It wasn’t exactly the answer you had been hoping for, considering he seemed less than enthusiastic at the prospect. You didn’t want to dwell on it, though, so instead you shot him a smile and a nod before turning on your heels and stalking away. Only when you glanced over your shoulder and no longer saw him did you let your shoulders deflate and your smile fall. Not only had your hope of him returning your feelings completely disintegrated, but now you were half-convinced he didn’t want to be around you at all. You had finally got a date with the guy of your dreams, and you couldn’t even be happy about it.
-
The days leading up to the ball seemed to fly by. Now, you were sat in your dorm, getting ready with Angelina and Alicia. You looked yourself over in the mirror one last time, applying the finishing touches to your blush, before giving yourself a small nod and deciding you were finished.
“Good Godric, Y/N, you’re going to give poor Georgie a heart attack.” Alicia teased once you’d spun around.
The color of your dress complimented your skin tone perfectly, and it clung to your form like it was made for you. You shot her a bashful smile, thankful for friends who expressed that you looked as beautiful as you felt. When your eyes scanned Angelina in her light purple gown and Alicia in her deep red one, you let out a whistle before giggling. Certainly, all three of you would have your dates weak.
“Ready to go?” Angelina looked between the two of you, and when you both nodded, you made your way out of the girl’s dormitories and down to the common room.
Your eyes immediately fell to Fred in the center of the room, lighting up conversation. A few other guys lingered around him, joining in on his jokes as they waited for their dates. You paused on the steps as you scanned the faces for George, seeking him out like you always did, until you finally found him. He was leaning back on the couch, a small smile on his face as he listened to Fred regale some story. You swore you felt your breath hitch, because Godric, was he handsome.
Once Alicia had snapped you out of your lovesick thoughts, you forced your feet to carry you towards him, careful not to trip in your heels. He seemed to catch you out of the corner of his eye, then quickly was doing a double take. He was to his feet in an instant, a nervous smile gracing his features.
“Y/N, hey,” He took a step closer to you. “You look really beautiful.”
You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment and you avoided his gaze, choosing instead to study your feet. You muttered out a small ‘thank you,’ which you weren’t even sure he caught, before glancing back up. Seeing as your group of friends was all now paired with their dates, you all began to make your way out of the common room and towards the great hall.
You and George took up the back of the group, watching those in front of you. Fred swung Angelina’s hand between them, and he was whispering something in her ear that was making her laugh uncontrollably. Alicia was clung to her date’s arm, the two of them speaking quietly with deep blushes painting their faces. Even Lee, who was taking Katie Bell, had his arm thrown around her shoulder as he guided her towards the ball. But you and George walked with a small distance in between you, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes trained forward.
His distant behavior as of late coupled with his reluctance to even make small talk with you had your stomach twisting and your mind assuming the worst. You settled on the realization that George must have found out about your feelings towards him, and now was completely unsure of how to act around you. You knew he was too kind to ever bring it up directly, and that would explain why he instead chose to avoid it. Your heart dropped at the thought alone, and suddenly all of your excitement to attend the ball was gone.
You wanted to convince yourself that you were overreacting, or that you were making assumptions that you couldn’t prove, but nothing else made sense in your mind. So, you cast your head down and listened to the steady clacking of your heels against the hard floor, resigning to getting through the night, because that was the only real choice you had.
Even the beautiful decor set up wasn’t enough to lift your mood, and as the night progressed you felt it only souring further. When fast songs played, your friends forced you to join them in the group, and you halfheartedly danced along. But every time a slow ballad would sound out, George would quickly come up with some excuse, like he had to go to the bathroom or needed to grab a drink, leaving you sat alone at one of the tables.
That’s currently where you sat, watching all the sickening couples gaze loving into each other’s eyes as they swayed to the soft song playing. You were filled with both intense sadness and a bit of anger. The latter stemmed from the fact that you truly thought better of George than to make things so awkward because of your silly little feelings. You began to pick at your fingernails, giving yourself something to distract you so you wouldn’t have to watch everyone any longer.
“You having fun?” George’s voice came from behind you, having just got back from getting his fourth cup of punch. You rolled your eyes before turning back to look at him, a bit of your anger dissipating as you gazed at his soft expression. You never could stay mad at him.
“Honestly?” You breathed out, biting down on your lip. “Not really.”
Perhaps you shouldn’t have been honest, especially judging by the way George’s face fell. But you wanted nothing more than for him to admit why he was avoiding being close to you. You just wanted him to say it, even if it hurt, because maybe then, you could at least go back to normal.
“I’m sorry.” George cast his eyes down, his voice quiet. “I know you didn’t want to go with me, and I guess I could be doing a better job trying to make you have a better night—”
“What?” You swiftly cut him off, a look of bewilderment overtaking your features. “I did want to go with you.”
“Look, Y/N, you don’t have to pretend I was your first choice.” George pulled out the seat next to you and sat down. “I know Fred was the one you wanted to ask you.”
“Fred?” You scoffed, your eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. You loved Fred, of course, but going to the ball with him had certainly never crossed your mind. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
“I heard you talking with Gin and Hermione in the common room the other night.” George looked down at his hands. “Gin asked if you wanted her brother to ask you, and if you fancied him, and Hermione said obviously.”
“Wha— I… Were you spying on us?” You sputtered, your cheeks beginning to heat up.
“What? No!” George’s head shot up at the accusation, his face turning red. “I, uh, I was actually coming down to talk to you. And I just overheard.”
“Well, you clearly didn’t hear the whole conversation.” You pointed out, thinking back to the conversation at hand. “Why on Earth would you assume she meant Fred? There’s three of you it could’ve been, you know?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s always Fred, isn’t it?” George gave you a sad smile at that, one that you were certain broke your heart into a million pieces.
Here you were, assuming the worst of him all night. You had truly convinced yourself that George was the kind of guy who would let your night be ruined by the awkwardness of your feelings, when he wasn’t that guy at all. He was just about the greatest guy you’d ever met. He also didn’t even know it.
Tentatively, you leaned towards him and took one of his hands in your own, causing his eyes to shoot between your intertwined fingers and your face. His brows furrowed at your actions, but you didn’t give him a chance to question it.
“For me, it’s never been Fred.”
And now it was George’s turn to feel silly. He had sulked when he thought you fancied Fred, causing him to apologize when you had to see him ask Angelina, and making him assume you only asked him because his brother was no longer an option. Then, he spent the whole night avoiding any sort of intimacy with you, because he knew just how badly it would hurt to spend a perfect night with the perfect girl, whose only flaw was longing for his brother. As your thumb began to rub light circles on the outside of his hand, his insecurities slowly melted away.
“I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”
While you easily could have said yes, easily could have pointed out how foolish he was to assume you’d ever want anyone else but him, you didn’t have it in you. Because really, you couldn’t blame him. You knew it couldn’t be easy being the middle children amongst such a large family, then having to deal with always being the secondary light to the glowing Fred and George duo. Always Fred and George, never the other way around.
“No.” You shook your head, gazing at him softly as you leaned in a bit closer. “Everyone else in the world has, for ever convincing you that you should always be the second choice.”
He searched your face for a mere moment, seeming to weigh the sincerity behind your statement. But they were the truest words you’d ever spoken, and you could only hope he could see that.
“Can I kiss you?” He inched a bit closer, his warm breath now mixing with your own.
“Please.” You nodded, and in an instant, his lips were on yours.
His lips were soft, his free hand moving up to tenderly cup your face. Kissing George practically reduced you to a puddle, and you felt like nothing more than putty in his hands. You hoped that the kiss portrayed every emotion you’d ever felt about him, hoped it told him that at least with you, he’d always be your first choice.
When you pulled back, you rested your foreheads against one another, both of your eyes remaining closed. You breathed in each other’s presence, relishing in the feeling of closeness you both had secretly always longed for. As the slow song playing melted into another ballad, George stood, using your intertwined hands to tug you up as well.
“I think I owe you a dance.” He grinned down at you, causing your heart to flutter.
As he led you out onto the dance floor, you gazed above you at the enchanted twinkling stars and the soft snow. Somehow, George shined brighter than all of it, and you wanted nothing more than for everyone else to see that, too. But, at least for tonight, you would settle for convincing him of it.