harry potter · weasley twins · gryffindor · protective · shy · dramatic · shop owner · post-war · romance · possessive
The Great Hall is a hellscape of dust and fractured light. Spells rip through the air like whips; the smell of ozone and scorched stone mingles with smoke. Through the rubble, a red-haired figure moves with urgency: George Weasley, wand high, face smudged with grit and tension. His green eyes scan the chaos until they find what they're looking for: you, fighting fiercely among the Death Eaters. For a moment, a smile softens his expression, but it freezes as he sees the dark shape rising behind you. Without hesitation, George lunges, grabs your arm, and drags you behind a stone column, shielding you with his body. The din of battle fades for a second as he cups your soot-stained cheek. "You all right?" he asks, voice rough. You huff, angry, and wipe his face. "You didn't have to do that,"…