weasley twins one shots

and to the stars we go // george weasley

Summary: Overjoyed by his Quidditch victory, George shows you the stars.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.1k (sorry it's short but it's sweet!)

A/N: for my love!

——————————

Quidditch was quite a tense sport at Hogwarts. Especially when it was for the Cup. There was never a dull moment when it came to the sport, and you were beginning to wish there could be one so your nervous self could relax for just a moment.

As you sat back in the stands, biting your nails and bouncing your leg up and down, the sport had never felt more intense. And you were partially ungrateful for that fact.

The spring air was refreshing and the setting sun was calming, but your mind was too focused on George zooming about on his broom and defending his teammates from the aggressive Ravenclaw team to notice the peacefulness of your surroundings.

Yes, Gryffindor was being aggressive as well, but you were rather biased and didn't mind the pushes and shoves that they made.

"It's looking good," Hermione muttered from next to you, her own eyes glued to Ron at the goalposts.

You hummed in response, too busy stressing to answer her. She seemed to be feeling the same, though, so at least you weren't too crazy.

With your constant butterflies and shaking hands, the game seemed like it was lasting years before Harry had finally caught the snitch and the Gryffindor team were pronounced the winners of the Quidditch cup.

"Oh, Merlin! We won!" Hermione squealed, grabbing your hand and cheering loudly with the rest of the stand.

You clasped a hand to your mouth and broke out into a massive grin, rushing down to the field with the rest of the eager Gryffindors, each cheering loudly and chanting aloud that we had won the Cup.

However, while they were all too busy congratulating Harry and swarming Ron, you bolted straight towards George — who was also using his height and looking for you over the countless crowd members.

"Georgie!" you shouted his name, your body crashing into his as you hugged him tightly, "You won! Congratulations!"

"Thanks, love," he hugged you right back, lifting you off your feet and twirling you around, "Noticed you were wearing my sweater. Gave me a confidence boost."

He put you down, his lips turned upwards into a smirk as you flushed, the tips of your ears suddenly hot.

"Sorry," you smiled sheepishly, your arms still wrapped around him, "You left it in my dorm. Thought I'd come support my number one man."

"Looks loads better on you, though, I don't mind."

He beamed down at you, placing his hands on either side of your face and pressing his lips against yours. You melted into his touch, the feeling of his kiss nearly making your knees buckle. No matter how many times you kissed him, it took your breath away every time.

"If this is how you're gonna kiss me when you win the cup, you should win more often," you joked as he pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wild.

"Ha, ha, clever," he rolled his eyes playfully, pressing another light kiss to your lips, "Reckon I could never get too many of those."

You flushed at his comment, hiding it by pulling him into a hug and hiding your face against his chest. You could feel the vibrations as he chuckled, running his clammy, calloused hand through your hair. Honestly, you were too busy feeling overjoyed by the victory to complain.

"Stay on the pitch with me," he mumbled against your ear, "Wanna show you something."

You nodded, watching as the rowdy group of Gryffindors stalked off the field, the sun setting over the horizon, the sky clearing up and the sun's warmth now completely gone.

"Okay," you grinned, nodding your head. Although you had no idea what George had in mind, he had always been quite the hopeless romantic. You had no doubt it would be something sweet.

As the pitch cleared and the sky turned dark, George grabbed your hand and led you to his broom. You could tell by how warm his touch was that he was still basking in the championship. It was rather adorable to see.

"Climb on," he motioned to the broom, which you gladly climbed aboard. You had never been an overly fair flyer, but on the rare occasion George climbed aboard his broom with you, you enjoyed it quite a bit.

He hopped on behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and onto the handle of the broom, kicking off from the ground. You felt the soft grass disappear from beneath your feet as he brought you higher and higher above the Quidditch pitch, the lights from the Hogwarts grounds getting fainter.

George placed a kiss on the back of your head and lifted his hand from the broom, pointing up at the sky.

You stared up in awe at the stars, the bright moon and constellations surrounding the two of you. With little to no lights around and no clouds in the sky, you could make out just about everything. No matter how many times you got to see the stars, it took your breath away every single time.

"Up there, that's the Big Dipper," George pointer up at the famous constellation, "And right next to it, that's the Little Dipper."

You leaned back into his chest, already familiar with the knowledge but preferring to listen to him over your boring Astronomy Professor.

"That's Draco," he pointed straight up, "And I believe, correct me if I'm wrong, that that bright little red dot is Mars."

You grinned, "It's stunning, isn't it?"

Your fascination for the stars had grown since you were a younger child — the universe seemed to always hold your interest in the best ways.

"Not as stunning as you, but yes," he replied smoothly, looking down at you with a grin before looking back up to the sky.

Although the air was colder up here, you seemed to not notice. George's body was flushed up to yours and keeping you quite warm.

"Feeling rather cheeky, are we?" you smirked, trying to turn your head around and face him.

He nodded, "Always am, love."

You laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder and looking back up at the sky, one of George's hands was placed on your thigh, holding onto you as if you were going to fall.

"Wanna go down and celebrate in the common room?" you had asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, George's sweater and body heat no longer being able to keep you as warm.

"Sure thing," he nodded, grilling the broom once more and heading down towards the deserted Quidditch pitch, gently touching the ground and helping you off the cold broom.

"Shall I escort you to the castle, m'lady?" George asked poshly, sticking his arm out for you to take.

You giggled, nodding your head and linking yours with his as you walked up to the bright lights of Hogwarts castle.