Harry Potter One Shots

Frog Prince (George Weasley)

"C'mon, Georgie. That's enough for tonight." I stood, dusting off my robes before collecting the Skiving Snackbox from the ground. Swatting away the hands of a few sticky-fingered first years, I collected any unopened sweets before sorting them back into their proper containers.

"Just a bit more, love?" George, who had been holding a rather bloodied rag to his nose, ducked as Fred and Lee began to pelt one another with an array of brightly colored wrappers.

I laughed, pulling George to his feet. "I've had three fevers and five nosebleeds within the last hour-not to mention the six Fainting Fancies you lot kept slipping me."

"But I always caught you," he reminded me, pouting. I raised a brow skeptically, straightening his tie.

"Not always."

"That was one time, (Y/N), one time!" he protested.

Unimpressed, I set to work on vanishing the discarded wrappers. Better to clean now than have a rabid Hermione on my heels.

"That's not fair, you haven't even tried the Puking Pastilles yet," George frowned, trying another tactic. He wrapped his arm loosely about my waist, pulling me closer.

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, Georgie, those cannot be good for you. And besides, its getting late." In fact, the four of us were the only ones left in the common room. Even Harry and Ron had gone up to the boys dormitory, having tired of Wizard's Chess.

"Last one, then." Falling back onto the sofa, he pulled a bright yellow sweet from his pocket, holding it up to the light. Squinting, he pinched it slightly between two fingers, inspecting it closely. Evidently satisfied, he began unwrapping it quickly.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" I asked, attempting to peer over his shoulder.

"You'll see," he smirked, tossing the sweet high in the air before catching it between his teeth. Lee, who had taken to wrestling with Fred before the fire, looked up in horror.

"George, don't-" But it was too late.

Chewing furiously, George swallowed, grimacing. Seeing this, Fred launched himself off the carpet, pouncing upon his twin, howling madly.

"You bloody idiot! It isn't ready!" Fred bellowed, clapping George forcefully on the back. "Spit it out! Spit it out now!"

George paled instantly, his hand going to his throat. In desperation, Lee was now attempting to use his finger to fish out the offending sweet, but it was long gone.

George was beginning to look quite ill. His face had become quite white, and had taken on a slightly greenish hue. A few moments later, he begun to shrink at a rather alarming rate. Smaller and smaller, his body had begun changing so quickly that he became a blur.

And then, just like that, it was over. George was gone.

"Merlin..." I murmured, feeling faint. In his place was a rather strange looking toad, who had a tuft of bright red hair at the top of its head. "He's a-he's a-"

"Toad," Fred finished, rather matter-of-factly.

"Precisely," echoed Lee.

I rounded on them furiously. "You turn him back right now."

"We can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"The product wasn't ready," Fred explained, shifting his weight nervously. "We haven't figured out a way to undo the effects yet." The toad croaked indignantly, as though this was the first time it was hearing about this as well.