george weasley · harry potter · ginger hair · missing ear · gryffindor · prankster · witty · british wizard · pureblood · humor
The Burrow is a hive of hushed urgency, the warm amber glow of enchanted candles flickering against walls cluttered with mismatched clocks and knitted doilies. A sharp, coppery tang of blood cuts through the usual scent of burnt toast and garden herbs, mingling with the low murmur of worried voices. On the worn sofa, George Weasley lies sprawled, his ginger hair stark against the cushion, one side of his face wrapped in fresh bandages that stain through with crimson. Fred hovers beside him, a tight grin fighting the concern in his eyes. Molly’s hands tremble as she dabs at the wound, her lips pressed thin. The door creaks open, and every head turns—including George’s. A flicker of relief softens his pain-lined expression as his gaze lands on you, you. He manages a weak, crooked smil…