❝As Voldemort rises to power, he begins his ruined agenda: purifying the lineage of the sacred 28. The Weasley's power attracts him, the monster fixes your marriage to the man who loathes you to the bits. George Weasley. Will the two of you ever come to terms with each other? Or rather, even have a civil conversation?❞

PAIRING: George Weasley x fem!Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have worked long and hard on this series, hoping to make it perfect to my standards. If you see this as a seperate book, please don't panic, it's mine.

WARNING(S): Breakdown, forced marriage, anxiety, talks of pregnancy, violence, blood, injuries, passing out, mentions of food and drink, talk of death, mention of nausea

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Marriage, as one may define, is a social or formal union between two people that binds them economically and legally. The vedas said it connected two souls with thin red thread tying them together. To some it was a celebration of love, of happiness— to showcase the world that they had finally found someone they were willing to spend their whole lives with. It was a promise, a promise to cherish, to take care of one another through everything life threw at them. But to you, it was none of those things.

Voldermort hadn't taken long to overpower all ministry bodies when he finally got the chance. The 'pureblood' agenda was no laughing matter, he had gathered all families from the lineage of the sacred 28. Some gave in willingly, the ones who didn't were tortured until they did. He had announced that the bloodlines had to be purified, marriages between ones who were pure were to be conducted. Your father was a sharp man, he knew all that was to come— he hid and spied for the order until he was found.

Voldermort didn't suspect him at all, your family wasn't the one which took sides outwardly but had always supported muggleborns; except he didn't know that. The dark lord thought it would be proper to get you married to one of the Weasley boys, it would be easy for him to gain knowledge about any rebellions. Your father had protested, but was only given a choice between the red heads or Draco, your cousin you hadn't spoken to in 7 years. You had stopped him from revolting further fearing for his life.

And thus your marriage to George Weasley was finalized. With neither yours or Weasley's opinions taken into consideration.

You had met him exactly twice before the big day, once during the signing and the other, when your father had insisted on knowing the family before he could let you go. Both times he, like his siblings, had refused to even look at you, you sat in a tight corner as your dad talked to Molly and Arther, the only people in the family who understood the need to converse and the only ones who knew about your family's involvement in the order.

It pained you to watch George act like he did, you hadn't done anything wrong— or even spoken to him before. You had debated whether to let George in about your involvement with the order, especially your mission but you could only say much to someone who was set on hating you. He avoided you like the plague. Getting away the moment you got the chance to talk to him, avoiding your eyes. At some point you started to find the situation extremely humorous, he was running away from the person he was to be stuck with for the rest of his life.

The dreaded wedding came faster than expected, you wanted to run away right then. Save yourself from losing the last shred of control you had over your life. Though it made you wonder whether you even had it in the first place. It was tragic, to choose between dying quickly and having life sucked out of you until you died.

Sara, your bridesmaid had helped you into the tight fitting dress, you didn't bother to check your appearance. They told you you looked beautiful— you suppressed the bitter laugh that trembled through your lips. Your heart drummed against your chest as you apparated to the venue. It was dawning upon you, the weight of the step you were going to take. Everything faded away.

Memories of walking down the aisle were vague, you remembered unfamiliar tightlipped faces peering at you. Your father's hand was tightened against yours, he had told you to stay strong. You wanted to tell him you would be okay, but you couldn't get the words to move past your throat.

George had barely looked at you throughout the ceremony, the forced kiss after burnt your lips. Every second of the party felt like eternity as you stood there forcing a smile, George didn't even bother for it. He glared at everyone, it was like it was killing him to even stand beside you. Molly had pulled you into a hug before you left, it was hard to keep the tears at bay when she gave you a kind smile.

By the time you entered George's apartment, it seemed to you that all memories of your wedding had evaporated leaving behind a blur of evening gowns and clinking of champagne glasses.

He had barely spared you a glance as he silently walked towards a room. You followed him, taking a good look around holding your suitcase close to yourself.

"You can have this room," George said, clearing his throat, fixating on the door before laying his eyes on you for the first time that day. A part of you wanted to mock him, if only to justify the anger that he made you build. "I'll be over there."

Giving him the smallest of nods instead, you moved inside. A bed sat in the middle, there was a wardrobe complete with a dressing table. It appeared cozy, you slowly put your bag inside the wardrobe sitting down on the bed. Falling back with a thump, you looked at the ceiling above you. The spots on the wall, the fan moving with a grating sound. What had your life become?

Breath coming out in spurts, you grabbed the bedsheets clenching your hands into a ball. You were married now. Married to someone you didn't even know, someone who loathed you to the bits. Hot tears fell down your cheeks and you didn't have the strength to resist them. Gasping for breath, you cast a silence charm on your door before letting go at last. Screaming out your pain into the empty room, sobbing violently. Body shaking with cries, you pulled the pillows close to yourself, their scent foriegn and unfamiliar. The dress you wore pinched your skin. Perhaps it was the only reminder that you were alive, that this wasn't a nightmare you could wake up from.

Exhaustion forced you to sleep after a few hours. You were grateful for a dreamless night.

-♡♡♡-

Your head thumped and your body ached as your eyes adjusted to the dim lit room. Suddenly you regretted the decision not to change before you slept, sweat clinged to your body and your wedding dress scratched at several places. The will to get up was never so small. You lay there for a while in the quiet, your mind reeling with thoughts, yet feeling empty.

Shaking your head, you steeled yourself before sitting up straight. You had to put yourself together. Whether you liked it or not.

Taking a look around the room, you scorged your suitcase for the most comfortable of clothes. Unsure of what you would find outside, you tiptoed as soundlessly as you could, finding the house to be empty. It was smaller than what you were accustomed to but cozy. Bamboo chairs were placed haphazardly around the table, yellow pots adorned the white-washed walls. The curtains were a pale blue and were wide open, letting the sunlight in. After a quick survey, you decided George had indeed left the house. Maybe it was better that way, you didn't know how to behave around him yet.

Deciding to take a shower, you cast some spells to warm the water, unzipping the white dress with some difficulty. It pooled on the floor, you didn't even want to keep it safe. Sighing as the warm water hit your back, you drew lazy patterns on the cold bathroom tiles. "It isn't that bad," your brain provided. "I'll be okay." You repeated it over and over again until it lost all meaning.

Weasley— George, didn't come back all day, you busied yourself with arranging your stuff and searching for hidden places around the house. Taking breaks to eat or drink, you maintained that it would be better to stay low for now. You would have several chances to set up everything by the next week.

You were wiping the table when you heard the door click. There were no enchantments at the door, following the new guidelines laid by Voldermort. Clutching your wand tighter to yourself, you focussed on all sounds around you. The door opened and a mess of black hair and an even darker dress came into view, smiling sinisterly. Bella.

"Hello sweet cheeks," Bellatrix said, clicking her tongue entering the house like she owned it. "Must say, your wedding yesterday was absolutely marvelous, how are you feeling?"

Sitting down on the table nonchalantly, she placed her head on her hands looking up at you batting her eyes. You raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want Bella?" you asked cooly. Having her around never ended well and you would rather this conversation over as civilly as possible. She pouted, feigning hurt.

"Must I need something to talk to you?"

"You hardly drop by to have tea, so yes, I think it would suit us both if you just tell me what you're here for."

Bellatrix let out a loud giggle and you stopped yourself from flinching. Show her fear and she would intimidate you more.

"Oh I always knew I liked you," she said, before smiling widely again, setting her gaze on you. "The dark lord expects children soon, love."

You tensed. There was no mention of having to produce kids... the thought of having a child with George made your skin crawl. Hoping the witch didn't notice, you cleared your throat before speaking again.

"The agreement was marriage between purebloods—"

"Yes, to produce more of us, to cleanse the society," she said albeit disappointedly, making you clench your jaw.

"It was never mentioned in the contract," you said in a level voice. "I do not—"

"Don't be such a baby," she chided. "You know it well, you will have to follow the dark lord's wi—"

"What the fuck?"

Your brain was moving at an incredible speed, you had hardly noticed George arrive. He shot daggers at Bellatrix, gripping his wand. You didn't want the situation to accelerate, but Lestrange had other ideas.

"So the soon-to-be-father finally arrives," she said, tempting him.

"What—"

"Bella was just here to deliver a message from the dark lord," you said softly, cutting him off. George didn't trust you, you knew that, but the circumstances you were in, you hoped he would. Seeing him relax just a bit at your expression, you breathed deeply.

"How sweet," Bella pouted, looking between the two of you, tilting her head. "Look at you two already getting along. Well I hope to hear the good news soon then..."

"What are you insinuating—" George demanded but she only released a tut in response.

"A spoonful of this everyday and things will be a breeze," she said, throwing a vial towards you. Winking as you caught it, she apparated, disappearing into the night. You squeezed the vial tightly, hoping it would break from your rage alone.

"Why was she in my house?" George asked, nostrils flaring. You turned towards him, hands fisting up. Your mind was already reeling from the information Bellatrix just dropped, George's anger didn't help.

"I didn't invite her, we're not exactly bosom buddies you see," you said, giving him an infuriating smile.

"I asked," he repeated through gritted teeth. "Why was she here?"

Digging your nails into the palm of your hand, you tried to remain calm. He wasn't asking, he was demanding and it was making you sick. No one talked to you like that.

"To notify us that their leader accepts children soon," you strained out, turning to move towards the room.

"That wasn't the part of the agreement—"

"I know, and that's what I told her." Trying to find a place to dispose of the vial, you shuffled around not meeting his eyes.

"Then why—"

"I have no fucking idea!" you said through gritted teeth, twisting to face him before composing yourself again. Did he really believe you wanted all of this? Taking a deep breath, you began again. You could see him getting riled up, you were too. "George—"

"No. Let me make one thing very clear, that woman? She tortured my mum and my sister," he said, glowering at you. "I do not want her in my house, do your little tea parties elsewhere. She doesn't step into my house."

"Tea parties? Fucking tea parties?" you hissed. "Is that what you think this is? Newsflash Weasley— we're living in the middle of war. We can't even decide how to live, if Bellatrix wants to enter our house we have to fucking let her in if we want our lives intact. Stop acting like I can control anything because my hands are as tied as yours."

George clenched his jaw staring at you, you did the same. He folded his arms.

"At least you got to choose who you wanted to marry."

"Choose?! Choose what, huh? Choose between marrying you or my cousin?"

There was a beat of silence as George shook his head.

"Don't act like you don't have the same ideals as them," he said lowly as you felt your blood boil.

"How very mature of you," you said, your voice dripping with unsheathed anger. "And here I thought there was some hope, not much but a little. Maybe you don't ever support me, but I believed you would step up to at least work this thing out—"

"Work this thing out? Work this—" George incited. "— I had to marry you to save my family and you want to work this thing out?"

"You—"

"Oh no no— you listen to me. This. Whatever this is—"

"George—"

"—is never going to work. So you better—"

"I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE GEORGE!" You screamed as he finally listened to you. "I do not want to be here. Don't you see? I'm stuck. I'm not asking you to talk to me or hell even acknowledge my presence here. What I'm asking you is to behave like a decent human being and not blame me for every single thing life throws at you. I'm not a doormat and refuse to be treated like one."

George's chest rose and fell as he whipped around, stalking to his room and slamming the door shut behind him. Your skin itched and you felt like you wanted to punch something. Throwing the vial in your hand to the floor, you heard the glass shatter into a million pieces.

So much for wanting a peaceful first day.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you breathed, touching your arm and finding blood there. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment you tried to recall all the things that transpired in the last hour. Stealing and running away with the papers was easy, but you had seen an elf in pain and you had to save them. Death eaters had caught on and you hid in the nearest hall. Darkness surrounded you, tall daunting shelves seemed too close.

"He was right here!" a voice came from behind you, making the hair on your neck stick up. You wondered if someone could hear your hammering heart.

"Then bloody go find him!"

Breathing slowly, you tried to think clearly. There must be a way out. Crouching low, you tiptoed towards the last shelf. Careful not to touch anything; you casted spells covering your tracks. You heard some faint footsteps and gulped. So you weren't the only one hiding in the shadows.

"I know you're here. I'm going to find you and hand you over to the dark lord. Oh how is he going to award me for finding the person who was stealing our plans!"

Moving your palm, you unconsciously felt the parchment under your fingers. Treading forward slowly and cautiously, you suppressed a shiver as blood tickled down your elbows. Getting caught now would put everything at risk. Not just your own life, but also the order. You were starting to regret saving the elf now. Reaching the end of your bracelet, you touched the small button hearing it click. This was it.

"Nunc," you whispered.

There was a huge explosion at the door and the person after you shrieked revealing his position. Shouts and screams surrounded you as you stunned the man who stood there wide-eyed. Catching his wand mid-air, you bolted towards the other door. Almost there. You could see someone pointing their wand at you at the corner of your eye, but you had already crossed the threshold; apparating into nothingness.

Head whirling, you groaned when you reached the public washroom. Casting the main door lock shut, you took your jacket off. Your arm was bleeding badly, the red of the blood was almost black now. Taking out dittany, you hissed as it fell over the wound closing it. It stung, you had to grit your teeth to stop yourself from grunting out in pain. When it started to look almost normal, you removed the rest of your clothes, washing your face and arms of the makeup and dirt. Looking into the mirror, you stared at your reflection for a moment.

Removing the hair wig, you slipped into some cleaner clothes and kept the document safe inside your bag. Chugging some water, you allowed yourself to breathe deeply before removing any sign of being in the washroom. Sighing, you finally apparated to Weasley's— your apartment.

Things had been quiet after Bellatrix's appearance, it was almost like you were waiting for another shoe to drop. You never saw him, he left before you woke up, stayed in his room all the while. It stung sometimes, yes, but you weren't complaining. Him being away gave you enough time to plan your missions and sneak out in the middle of the night. Opening the door, as noiselessly as possible you took off your shoes before entering.

"Where have you been?" a voice came and you froze. Biting your lip, you turned around slowly watching him stare at your form, leaning against the wall. Suddenly you were very aware of the gash in your arm. You did cast some charms over it but it would still be visible under close scrutinisation.

"I went to take a walk," you said as nonchalantly as possible.

"In the middle of the night?"

"I couldn't sleep."

There was a beat of silence as the two of you just studied each other. George's hair was tousled, the comfortable shirt wrinkled as if he just got out of bed. The way his eyes searched your face, it was hard to maintain composure.

"We both know that's bullshit," he said, walking towards you. "And this is not the first time either, you're never here at night."

You narrowed your eyes at him as he stood in front of you, arms crossed. You never even had an inkling that he noticed.

"So tell me, where are you off to every night?"