Redhead || George x reader || y/n Lestrange

Chapter 56

"What were you thinking out there Lestrange?!

The cheers and boos, screams and wails of students were all blending together into a stadium of chaos.

The bruises on your thighs and arms were pulsing, but not faster than your heart was beating. Everything happened so fast, whatever was leading your conscious was blinded by the memories of the ruffian quidditch you played back in grade school.

Everything happened so fast you almost couldn't remember that you knocked George of his broom. Of course, he would never let you forget it.

"I'm a beater, Roger."

"You think that was beating?! You knocked him off his broom, snapped it IN HALF-"

"On accident!! His broom is SHIT! What did you think was going to happen?!"

Roger Davies was brimming with rage. His cheeks were past the point of "rosy" and now looked like you could fry an egg on them. Everything he wanted to say was almost steaming out if his ears, but your eyes lingered away from his with guilt. Of course, not for him.

"...I'll buy him a new one..." you knew how difficult it was for the Weasleys to scrape enough money together to afford all the extras.

Suddenly, the technicality of Fred crossed your mind.

"If I get George one then Fred's gonna complain..."

"Fred too..." you exhaled.

He let out whatever fire breathing breath he was holding inside with a surprisingly calm resolve.

"I don't know how you play Quidditch, but it's different around here."

"No shit."

"And you're going to have to learn how to channel that...passion...into our next win."

You looked him dead in the eye, past whatever broken soul possessed him to care so much about a few broken rules, and nodded.

"Now if you'll excuse me, captain," you said almost sarcastically.

"I have a toddler to deal with."

____________________

"George!" You screamed from across the main hall. George, Fred, and a few of the other Gryffindor losers sat at the tables, banished to the corner of the lunch table.

"George!!" You tired again, cupping your hands around your mouth.

You could tell that George was taking a few side glances at you, but quickly looked away, probably assuming you didn't notice. Or maybe, hoping you would.

You stood still, exasperated from yelling across the room. You tried to cut through but so many people stood in your way it was just easier to scream. It was so loud, almost nobody turned to look at you. The screams just blended in with one another.

"GEORGE!" You tried one last time before Oliver stood up from the table and offered an obscene hand gesture. Two, for that matter.

Of course, George immediately slapped away Oliver's hands. He spoke to Oliver, angrily, though you couldn't even hear what he was saying. You hoped he was defending your honour, but when George is in a mood he can lose any dignity that remained in that empty head if his.

After Oliver quickly sat down, George didn't even bother to look back at you. He just stared back down at his mashed potatoes.

"Uuuugghhh!" You mumbled, exhausted. He may never recover from this.

The crowd of people was beginning to come between your vision of him, and it was in that moment you decided to lose any remaining dignity yourself.

You dropped your weight to the ground and crawled across the floor. You didn't have to crawl for long before you were underneath the bench where George sat. You wiggled your head up and between his legs, staring up at the bottom of the table.

George didn't seem to even notice you were there, in fact his eyes were still wandering across the crowd looking for you. You smirked, butterflies emerging as you realized he was at least still trying to find you.

So you bit his calf.

"HEY! What the-"

His head fell beneath the table, shocked to see you at the bottom, wiping your mouth with your sleeve, smirking.

"How did you even..." he couldn't even finish before he began to giggle.

"What's with the biting? Hungry?" His head flew up over the table again, only this time he sank back down with a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

"Oh don't you dare..." you tried to sound serious, but you couldn't stop laughing.

"Oh I dare..." he smiled.

Before you knew it mashed potato was spread across your face.

Between your giggles you licked your lips clean and used your fingers to eat the rest.

"Was that revenge enough?" You dropped the smile and gestured for him to come back down. He crouched and sat underneath the table, crossed legged. His height was getting in the way, so his back was almost completely forward to you.

"That doesn't look to comfortable." You raised a brow.

"It's not. Shall we go somewhere else?" He turned his torso to go, but before he could you cupped his cheek with both of your hands and brought him forward.

"I'm sorry." You looked him deep into his eyes. "I'll buy you a knew one."

He smiled gently, and leaned in, tenderly kissing you on the lips. You were begging to lean back and let him take over. His hands crawled forward each inch you fell back, kissing you deeper and deeper, until your head his someone's leg.

Oliver's head came down, looking at the both of you with a look of annoyance. 

"Are you two done yet?" He rolled his eyes and rose his head so he wouldn't have to keep watching.

"...are we done yet?" He asked you, smirking.

"Only if you can clear out your OH SO BUSY SCHEDULE..." you rolled your eyes. George laughed.

"Oh go fuck yourself." He smiled at you. You smiled back, a little bit less purely.

"Only if you watch."

And suddenly, you both had plans for the day.