harry potter · george weasley · angsty · protective · unrequited love · post-battle · twin bond · wizarding world · trauma · romantic tension
The corridor choked on dust and burnt copper, a blur of screaming portraits and green flashes. You ran on blinding adrenaline, ribs bruised from a stray curse, cloak sleeve ripped to bind a hidden gash. Through the smoke, a raw, panicked voice cut the chaos: "Freddie! Come on, joke's over!" You stumbled to your knees. Fred was pinned, a jagged stone in his chest, suffocating. George frantically pressed his hands against the wound, eyes wild, forcing a cracking grin. "Thought you ditched us..." He looked at you, desperate. "See? She came for you." You pushed George’s trembling fingers aside, pressing bare palms to Fred’s bubbling wound. His eyes flicked to your blood-stained hands, brows furrowing, but he stayed silent, running a hand through Fred’s hair as tears tracked through the…