harry potter imagines

george weasley x reader: invisible string

george weasley x reader

summary: "hell was the journey but it brought me heaven" - t.swift

words: 3911

warnings: mild language, sad, unedited

author's note: ahhh, i have never written a fic so long, but i totally vibe with it. i was totally inspired by a fic i was struggling to finish, so i just started to rewrite it and i just fell in love. honestly, this is one of my favorite fic. please let me know how you feel about it. is it too long? is it too boring? i love feedback and knowing how you guys feel - gracie♡♡ 

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The concept of soulmates and true love had always perplexed you, especially as someone whose parents talked about love like it was the loch ness monster. Your parents were two lit matches when you were growing up and the leaking gas surrounding them was their marriage. Even at seven, you weren't surprised when your mother disappeared in the night, leaving you brokenhearted and determined to not return to your daydreams about a prince sweeping you off your feet. You were truly the world's youngest pessimist, turning your nose up at the girls chasing boys for a kiss and keeping away from the rowdy boys kicking a football around the park.

Many would think such a bitter young child, kicking rocks into lakes and getting nauseous from fairytales, would want someone realistic to hang around. You agreed, thinking that you'd want someone just as angry at the world to stand in the kilometer-wide fields of wildflowers and scream with you. Then faith played a cruel, unusual card that tossed you into the path of George Weasley.

George Weasley had just turned ten when the two of you crossed paths, his legs were carrying as far away from his mum, who was yelling at him and Fred from turning Ron's teddy into a spider... again. He supposed it was his fault when he absolutely plowed into you, a nine-year-old reading on the dry ground, but, you weren't exactly nice enough for him to admit that.

"You absolute idiot, dear God, you nearly knock my damn teeth out," you shouted, brushing off the kicked-up dirt from your clothes.

George stared at you, his eyes wide as the words left your mouth- he rarely heard his parents curse, much less a little girl. In his defense, the only little girl he was around much was Ginny, and while she had a foul temper it rarely involved cursing.

"Well? Aren't you going to apologize?" You looked at him impatiently, maintaining contact with his brown eyes. He was an odd-looking boy, tall and lanky, while also drowned in ragged clothes that looked more like a cloak. "Well? Dear Lord, I don't have time for this."

It didn't take long for George to find his words, somewhat less stunned and, perhaps at that moment, purely intrigued. "Oi, wait up," George shouted, taking the few strides it took to end up beside you.

"Oh, how marvelous- you talk," you deadpanned, mimicking a tone that your father frequently used with you when you said something unintelligible. "Quit following me, Red."

"Red?"

"Well, I have to call you something, don't I?" You were halfway home at this point, and you weren't particularly fond of being home so soon or letting the boy know where you lived. You dug your heels in the dry ground, stopping so abruptly George was nearly two steps past you when he noticed.

"It's George- George Weasley," the redhead greeted, sticking out this pale freckled hand as he'd seen many adults do. You reminded him of an adult, and he frankly, couldn't help but want to make a good impression (well, good second impression). "I live at The Burrow- the slightly leaning building with the large garden."