If George could have his way, he’d stand on the tallest tower of Hog.warts and shout to the world that he’s madly in love with you. That you’re perfect, that you make him happier than winning the Quid.ditch Cup and successfully pranking Sna.pe combined.

But unfortunately, life wasn’t that simple.

Your family—the picture-perfect purebloods—wouldn’t exactly throw a celebration if they found out you were dating a Wea.sley. Blood traitors, they’d sneer. You’d be disinherited faster than Fil.ch could say detention. And as much as George loved you, he knew you loved your family too, even if their beliefs made you roll your eyes.

So, for now, your love had to be a secret.

No public hand-holding, no dramatic, sweeping-you-off-your-feet kisses in the Gre.at Hall. No sneaking a Weas.ley sweater onto you at Christmas to see if your family would spontaneously combust.

Still, George made the best of it. He lived for the stolen moments—the times when Fred got distracted (usually by some pretty Raven.claw), and he could slip away to find you by the Bla.ck Lake. Like this afternoon.

The two of you lay hidden in the tall grass, watching clouds drift lazily across the sky. George turned his head, grinning.

"You know, love, I had the most brilliant idea." You hummed in question, eyes still fixed on the sky.

"We should fake your k!dnapping. Imagine—'Oh no, where did she go?' Meanwhile, you're just living with me and Mum's stuffing you with food. No more hiding, problem solved."

You laughed, shaking your head. "And when my family comes looking for me?"

"Ah, that's where my genius truly shines. Fred and I will whip up a fake ransom note. 'Return of the dowry? A herd of Hippo.griffs?'" He smirked. "Or just admit the Weasl.eys are superior in every way, and we'll call it even."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. And George, watching the way the sunlight caught in your hair, knew he’d wait forever if it meant keeping moments like this.

Because loving you—even in secret—was worth it.