Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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16th December 2011 12:00 - Kinky Kristmas Fic: The Lonely Ones (George/Luna)
Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: [info]doveypoo
From: [info]lunalovepotter

Title: The Lonely Ones
Characters/Pairings: George/Luna; mention of past Fred/Angelina, and possible George/Verity
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: hurt/comfort, angst
Other Warnings/Content: first-time sex, oral sex
Word Count: 6,251
Summary/Description: A surprising, sexy encounter helps George find a way to move on after the loss of his twin.
Author's Notes: This one is for my beta, S, to whom I owe so many words and so much inspiration. Thank you. Also, a big thank you to the mods for allowing me the extra time to nurture this idea until it was ready to be written. Happy Holidays!



"So, how're you doing, Freddie?" George set down a blanket, cast a warming charm and sat down cross-legged in front of the granite headstone. It was coming on winter, and the trees looked like rough, bony fingers stretching toward the sky. Cold air bit into his cheeks but he didn't mind. Hell, at least he could feel it. Rubbing his hands together, George levitated two sandwiches and two bottles of pumpkin juice out of his paper sack, placing one set in front of the headstone. When Fred was alive, the two of them had always set aside Tuesday afternoons at 2:00 for a late lunch and brainstorming session on new ideas for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products. Just because Fred was dead didn't mean that had to stop. Verity had worked at the store long enough to be able to manage things for a few hours, and Tuesdays were normally the slowest day of the week. George had no qualms about leaving things in her charge. He would have closed the shop outright if he had to, rather than miss his Tuesday appointment. Fortunately, he didn't have to.

His question was answered only by the low whistle of the wind and a few dead leaves scraping across the ground. "Boy, that's good, hey?" he continued, dryly.

George unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. As he chewed, his chest tightened, and he allowed the loneliness to wash over him. There was always a minute or two during these weekly visits when he stepped outside of himself and wondered what the bloody hell he was doing, and how he was possibly going to move on without his twin. It had been a year now since Fred's death, and while the shop was running smoothly and doing steady business, George still felt as though he was just going through the motions. He wanted to enjoy it to the fullest, for Fred's sake, to enjoy the success and appreciate it. And he tried. Merlin knows, he tried. He put on a brave face when the family stopped in to help out, and still gave Ron a hard time about asking for a "family discount", even though his heart was never quite in it. It seemed that the only thing keeping him going were these Tuesday afternoons. It was pathetic, really, preferring the company of the dead over the living. But no living person gave him the confidence or motivation that Fred did.

Mum had wanted him to move back home after the war, a mother hen anxious to draw her chicks back into the empty nest. But George had insisted on remaining in the cozy, albeit cramped, flat above the shop that he and Fred had shared, with the low, sloping ceilings and the sun window in the roof. It used to be an attic, so it was all one open space, except for a tiny bathroom and a hastily added kitchenette. There was hardly any furniture except for the twin beds, a desk by the window overlooking the street, a kitchen table with two mismatched chairs, and a sparsely filled bookshelf. The only wall decoration was a poster of Puddlemere United. One of Mum's old throw rugs broke the monotony of the hardwood floor. It wasn't much, but it was home now - he and Fred had lived there together, their first real private space in their entire lives. He wasn't about to give that up.

He uncorked the bottle of juice and took a long swallow to dislodge the piece of sandwich that had gotten stuck in his constricted throat. The wind intensified to a low, mournful howl through the bare branches of the trees as the sun started its slow descent toward the horizon. The loneliness wasn't going away this time, at least not as quickly as he might have liked. People who didn't understand would say this was because of the approaching holidays and the fact that it was harder to deal with the loss of a loved one over the holidays. This was, of course, total rubbish. George missed Fred every single day of the year - a simple date on a calendar didn't change that. Christmas just exaggerated things a bit, that was all, with the twinkling lights, festively wrapped packages, family gatherings, and seasonal music. Fred had loved Christmas; the frenzied enthusiasm of holiday shoppers spending their hard-earned money on their creations had inspired him.

"Verity sends her regards," he said, when he finally found words again. The corner of his mouth twitched as his thoughts drifted for a minute to the small, sprightly witch with the short blonde bob and doe-like brown eyes. He wondered why she'd stayed with the shop for so long; she was a smart bird with a sharp sense of humour, and her father worked for the Ministry in some higher-up position so she could almost certainly have found something better if she wanted. He'd heard whispers that the Harpies had been interested in her for a Keeper position. But still, there she was working the till, patiently assisting customers, and restocking the shelves, even offering to take on extra shifts. She always had a smile on her face and a lovely pink hue in her cheeks. Fred had teased him about asking her out, since he for some reason had a cock-brained idea that George and Verity would make a good match. She was certainly pretty enough, and always ready to engage him in friendly banter about his Puddlemere United versus her beloved Appleby Arrows, and perhaps George felt a slight stirring whenever he watched her walk away with her small, round arse fitting so nicely in her denims. But that didn't mean anything. He was in no position to start a relationship right now. He didn't know if he'd ever be. It was hard enough putting one foot in front of the other.

He felt the sting of tears starting in his eyes and quickly squeezed them shut to force the tears back. He hadn't cried in front of Fred when he was alive, and he was not going to do it here. He took another bite of the sandwich and chewed slowly. He swallowed, washing it down with another gulp of juice. Then he rewrapped the sandwich and put it away. He allowed his eyes to drift to the headstone, and visually traced over his brother's name and the two dates marking the beginning and end of his life. It just wasn't bloody fair. Fred was a prick for leaving him alone like this.

Due to his injured ear, he did not notice the approaching footsteps until he heard the airy voice right next to him: "Hullo, George."

He started slightly, at first annoyed by the interruption. But then he saw Luna, dressed entirely inappropriately for the chilly weather in a short denim skirt and thigh-high blue-and-black striped tights, with a loose-fitting blue gypsy blouse. The only articles of clothing that showed she was even remotely aware of the weather was the colourful crocheted scarf around her neck and the fleece-lined boots on her feet. Her hair hung in loose waves around her face, and radish earrings dangled from her earlobes. She gazed around her with a certain wide-eyed wonderment that made George wonder if she saw something remarkable that he didn't - but then Luna had always seen things differently.

"Hi, Luna."

"I came to see my mum, but she's not much in the mood for talking right now."

"Erm, okay..."

"But I am a bit hungry. Do you think Fred would mind if I had some of his sandwich?"

"Um, well...all right, I suppose." George shrugged. Without thinking, he scooted over and made space on the blanket. "You can sit here, if you want."

"You're under no obligation to ask me to sit with you, George. In fact, you looked as though you'd rather be alone." Luna bent to pick up the sandwich and began to carefully unwrap it as though she were handling something considerably more delicate than two pieces of bread with meat slapped in between. He had never been able to figure her out, although obviously she had some redeeming qualities or otherwise she wouldn't be one of Ginny's best friends. And she was quite observant; he had to hand her that.

"No, really it's fine. Sit down." George gestured to the space next to him. "Fred isn't really being very chatty either."

"That's okay. We can talk to each other for awhile, until he feels like joining us." Luna sat down beside him cross-legged on the magically-warmed blanket. For a few minutes they actually didn't speak, while she took a few bites of the sandwich. "You come here every week," she said, after a long pause. She phrased it more as a statement than a question.

George shrugged, drawing his knees closer to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. "Do you visit your mum every week?"

"No, we don't have regular scheduled visits. We enjoy each other's company well enough, but Mum was always more of a solitary witch. Do you mind if I have the pumpkin juice?"

"Yeah, sure, fine."

Luna produced her wand from somewhere and levitated the other bottle of pumpkin juice. George watched as she picked up the bottle and carefully unscrewed the top with surprisingly little effort. He couldn't help but notice her fingers, long and graceful, like an artist's hands. Her skin was porcelain white, with only the slightest hint of colour in her cheeks. She hummed to herself as she lifted the bottle to her mouth and took a long drink. He'd never been this close to her before, and while he'd always been somewhat perplexed by her in general, right now he felt surprisingly comfortable next to her.

"You're a very devoted brother, visiting Fred so often. Many people don't like to come to graveyards, because it makes them feel sad."

"Yeah, well...I just miss him, you know?"

"Everyone feels lonely sometimes, George. It's perfectly normal. The important thing is not to let it overwhelm you so much that you don't appreciate life. Because the person you're lonely for certainly wouldn't want that."

"Of course not. But it's...we were part of the same person, that's all. We worked together. I was the idea man, and he was the implementer. Now I feel...well, lost." He'd never opened up this way to anyone in his life - other than Fred - before. Luna made it seem so easy. She didn't really know him, and yet she understood.

"George, even though you are a twin, you are also a whole person." She said this simply, and sweetly, her eyes wide and strangely beautiful. He could tell from the tone of her voice that she genuinely meant what she'd said. A subtle smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. A comforting warmth washed over George.

"Thanks, Luna." He reached over and touched her hand.

Then quite out of the blue, Luna set down her sandwich and straddled him, settling her bottom on his thighs while she anchored herself with her knees pressed firmly into his side. She framed his face with her hands, which were surprisingly warm, and patiently traced her thumbs along his cheekbones. "You have a very nice face, George. Such expressive eyes."

George swallowed, not sure what to make of this sudden turn of events. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, you too," he said quickly.

Luna's eyes seemed to shimmer in the fading light. "Thank you," she said. "Most people tell me I look like Dad, because of the blonde hair, but I really take more after Mum." She eased forward on his lap. George felt a stirring between his legs. Then she leaned her upper body forward, her blouse dipping low as she touched her mouth to the side of his cheek, whispering her lips along his jawline. He didn't want to, but George couldn't help sneaking a peek - her small breasts were unrestrained, bobbing freely as she moved. He caught a flash of bright pink nipple before he was distracted by the touch of her lips on the side of his mouth. His lips responded immediately, pursing together to meet hers. His hands moved to her waist, and then swept down over her buttocks, cupping them gently, like eggs. He hadn't been this close to a girl since his Yule Ball date with Katie Bell - and while they had snogged a little bit, and he had grazed the side of her breast accidentally-on-purpose, she had firmly moved his hands away when he tried to touch her bottom in the broom cupboard. The night had ended there. He'd been on a couple of dates since then, but nothing substantial. Most of the time had been spent planning and building the shop - and then the bloody war had happened, and dating was the last thing on his mind.

Luna wasn't moving his hands away. She made a little mewling noise, her tongue flicking out like a kitten lapping up milk. George tightened his hold on her bottom, and his crotch tightened in unison. His cock was starting to take notice of things - mainly the fact that it wasn't a pair of large, rough hands bringing it to erection, but rather a small, pretty girl. Pretty. Luna was pretty, wasn't she? Not in the way that most boys fancied, but still, there was something else about her. She smelled like honey, flowers, and, strangely, bread. Without thinking he began to tug at the hem of her skirt, lifting it slowly over her bottom. She didn't seem to notice; or if she did, she really didn't care. Feeling suddenly emboldened, George parted his lips to deepen their kiss. He slid his tongue forward, half-expecting to meet the resistance of her teeth but instead he met her soft, pliable tongue. Luna's hands moved down to curl around his neck, lacing her fingers just under his hair. She continued to stroke him with her thumbs, leaving pools of warmth in their wake. It felt good.

There was a sudden rush of wind, and the howling seemed to fill his ears while his body shivered against the cold, even in his fleece jacket and long corduroys. Tendrils of cold curled around him like dead hands. For an instant he was acutely aware of the fact that he was getting a stiffy in front of his brother's grave, and he froze. His mind was then inundated with repressed images of Fred and Angelina, whom he'd inadvertently walked in on during a heated snogging session after he'd left Katie for the night at the Yule Ball. He'd seen flashes of skin, both pale and dark. Fred's hand was under Angelina's dress, and she was making a low, moaning sound while her hips jutted forward. Of course Fred had told him to sod off, but George was sure he'd seen a wink and a twitch of his brother's mouth just before he shut the door.

But then, strangely, just as he was about to pull away from Luna, George heard what sounded like a voice in his ear: "Go for it, Georgie Boy." It was faint, and could easily have been mistaken for the wind. Yet deep down, George knew it wasn't.

Fred was watching them. "It's my turn, little brother." He never missed an opportunity to remind his twin that he was thirty seconds older.

Bugger. The idea that his brother was watching him - his dead brother, no less - should have been creepy as hell, enough to send him running for the hills and turn him off sex for the remainder of his days. Instead it did the opposite; the feeling of Fred's eyes on them only made him hotter. All right, big brother, prepare for a show. George eased Luna away from him so that he could remove his suddenly cumbersome coat. His fingers were fumbling with the fastenings, while he cursed madly under his breath at his sudden lack of coordination.

Luna giggled, her radish earrings swinging merrily. "Here, let me do it," she said. "I've found that the frenzied nature of sex tends to rattle your hand-eye coordination." She unwrapped her scarf, exposing the long, slender column of her neck. Then she leaned over to pick up her wand. The left shoulder of her blouse slipped down, completely exposing her breast. George's breath hitched, and his cock swelled. He could feel the ridges of his zipper making indentations in his skin. He wanted to touch her so badly it hurt. It seemed impossible that he had wanted anything more in his life. He curled his fingers into fists, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Smiling, Luna leaned forward and nudged her breast toward him. She didn't speak, but with her eyes and a barely perceptible nod told him it was all right. She inhaled sharply when his cold fingers first touched her, but then she put her hand over his and held it there firmly, directing his hand in tiny, slow circles. Her breast was so small that his hand more than covered it, and he felt the knob of her nipple pressed into his palm. He squeezed the soft flesh, which felt to him like a small wad of cotton. Without asking, he yanked down the other side of her blouse and put his other hand around her free breast, kneading it slowly. Luna arched her head back, throwing her chest forward while she rolled her crotch against his trousers.

Licking his lips, George moved his right hand away and bent to her breast, flicking the nipple with his tongue. Luna made a soft keening noise. Encouraged, he then wrapped his mouth around her nipple and sucked it into his mouth. She squealed, her voice so high-pitched he imagined it might have been audible only to animals. She moved her hands up into his short, spiky ginger hair, kneading his scalp in rhythm with his suckling. She scooted up so that she was now firmly stationed atop the bulge in his crotch. George moaned, as prickly heat pooled in his abdomen and threatened to tear him open at the waist. He needed to liberate his cock, and fast.

Fortunately Luna was one step ahead of him. She released her hands from his head, sliding them down his front while deftly unfastening his coat. When she reached his waist, she tugged the plaid flannel shirt and undershirt out of the waistband of his trousers, unhooked the belt and drew down the zipper. George inhaled, anticipating the cold touch of her hands on his skin, but instead was met with soothing warmth as her fingers slid into the opening of his boxers and curled around his aching cock. She squeezed his balls a bit more roughly than he expected, sliding her thumb along the length of his shaft. He exhaled, gripping the blanket with his hands to keep from thrusting into her.

"Luna," he choked, barely able to form words. He raised his eyes to hers, running his tongue along his dry lips.

"Lean back a little bit, please," she said, her voice delicate but matter-of-fact. George had the sense that she'd done this before, and for some reason he liked it. She pressed gently against his shoulder with her free hand to encourage him. George didn't know how to make his body respond, yet somehow it did, and he spread his arms a little wider, resting more weight on his shoulders while he scooted a little further down on the blanket. With one hand still securely around his cock, Luna used her free hand to retrieve her wand and in seconds his coat was gone, along with the undershirt, and the flannel shirt was hanging open, exposing his bare chest to the biting cold. It was oddly arousing. Luna bent her head to kiss him. Starting at his collarbone, her lips traced a soft path down his torso while she massaged his balls. She flicked her tongue into the hollow of his throat. Prickly heat followed every spot of skin that her lips touched. She paused to suckle each of his nipples, nipping them playfully with her teeth while he groaned and willed himself not to spill his load right then and there. But the promise of sex was enough to keep him at bay.

"Hang on, Georgie Boy, you're almost there. Believe me, it's worth the wait. You should've seen Angelina after the Yule Ball. There was nothing left. Took her nearly a week to recover."

George hardly had time to comprehend this sudden revelation when Luna's lips reached the waistband of his Gryffindor boxers. "Lift your hips, please," she said. Somehow he managed to do so, his head spinning with intermingling images of his brother having sex with Angelina, himself jerking off in the broom cupboard after catching them, sticky come spilling all over his hands, and Luna's bouncing breasts. He was now numb below the waist, except for the heat that pulsed through his cock. He had fistfuls of the blanket caught in his fingers. Then Luna rose to her knees, her denim skirt rucked up above her waist to reveal a pair of functional cotton knickers adorned with blue and pink rabbits hopping amongst a field of flowers.

"My Patronus," she said, in explanation. The crotch of her knickers was visibly wet. George tried to swallow, but his throat had closed up. Fuck, she was wet for him. He'd never made a girl wet before. He couldn't wait to have his cock inside her. As crazy as it seemed, this was absolutely the hottest moment of his life.

"Really, George? Bunny rabbits?"

"Shut up, Fred. I'm the one having sex here."


He watched as Luna wiggled her slender hips and, raising one leg at a time, extricated herself from the knickers which she then tossed over her shoulder. Now she was naked except for the denim scrunched around her middle, the thigh-high tights, and the boots on her feet. The hair between her legs perfectly matched the hair on her head, and was shaved in a perfect triangle. The sight of her slit made his mouth water. Luna smiled, pulling his cock free from his boxers. Then to his utter confusion she slid farther back along his legs, bracing her hands on either side of his waist. He couldn't very well put his cock in her if she was all the way down there...

At least, not in her pussy. Oh fuck.

Her mouth lightly circled the tip of his cock, her tongue circling the head. Steadying herself, and shifting her weight to her right hand, Luna deftly kneaded his balls with her left hand, pumping the shaft as she fed portions of his cock into her mouth. Her hair formed a silken curtain around her face, tickling his thighs as she moved. She made surprisingly aggressive grunting noises as she took him in. Her mouth was tiny, and he imagined that his length would cause her some measure of physical distress, but she seemed unfazed. And Merlin, did it feel good. Then she pulled out until only the head was in her mouth. She raised her eyes and locked them with his. Then she winked.

That was it.

George arched his back, thrusting his hips and letting out a great bellow as he shot his load. She pulled away, but not before a small bit of it landed on her lips. The rest of it spilled on her belly. Filled with the inexplicable need to taste himself on her, George used what little strength he had to grab her and pull her down on top of him. He seized her mouth, fisting her hair in his hands to hold her there as he shoved his tongue down her throat. She responded in kind, weaving her tongue with his and grabbing hold of his head. He found the taste of his come to be less than appealing, but the taste of her lips with his come on them was quite pleasing. The kiss was rough and deep, lasting several minutes before they broke apart to catch their breath. After performing a quick cleaning charm, Luna reclined across his body, her breasts compacted in his chest while her fingertips delicately traced along his ribcage. The cold wind moaned around them, drawing goosebumps along their bodies, but neither of them moved to cover themselves. George's hands travelled along her spine to cup her bottom. He kissed the top of her head. They lay quietly for several minutes.

"That was very nice, George," Luna remarked.

"Yeah." George couldn't help but grin.

Luna raised her head. "I'm sorry to interrupt your thoughts, which I can see are happy ones, but I do have needs that require some attention." She sat up, swinging her hair off of her shoulders, and began to roll her hips against his flaccid cock. As mesmerizing as she looked straddling him with her perky breasts and her glistening pussy, and as much as he wanted to fuck her properly, George just didn't think he would have the energy to get another erection so soon. It seemed to be a lost cause.

"Luna, I -- "

But then she lifted her hands to her breasts and began to roll them through her fingers, intermittently squeezing her nipples. It was like a shot of adrenaline went through him, and suddenly he felt his cock twitch. A quiet, knowing smile drifted across Luna's face as she dropped her hands from her breasts and lifted up his cock, bringing it to rest full against her belly. The tip nearly touched the bottoms of her breasts. She cradled his balls and stroked him, humming the same tune as before while rocking her hips. For a moment she seemed completely unaware of where she was, which George found incredibly erotic. He reached for her breasts, softly tickling the underside with his fingertips. This seemed to bring her back. She lifted her hips, positioning his cock at her entrance. George sucked in his breath, raising his hips slightly off the blanket. He pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. She squealed with delight, and then she opened her legs for him.

Pushing into her felt almost otherworldly. She was so wet, that at first his cock seemed unable to gain traction, but then suddenly she squeezed her thighs and her pussy closed around him, and she was tight and hot and perfect. Before long he was completely sheathed inside her, and it felt so good that he never wanted to leave. He pushed up with his hips and she pushed back, their bodies moving in unison. It was as though they had made love countless times before. For a second, he allowed himself to wonder if they would do it again. Luna didn't really seem like the type for a serious relationship, but if today was any indication, she was full of surprises. George liked surprises - well, mostly when they were perpetrated on other people, but this wasn't bad either. Somehow he suspected that having Luna Lovegood as a girlfriend might be fun.

Way to go, Georgie Boy.

Even though it was barely audible, the voice was startling. It occurred to George only then that he had not thought about Fred since the moment that Luna first put her mouth on him. A shot of guilt coursed through him, and his eyes darted toward the headstone, now little more than a shadow in the failing daylight. This was supposed to be their time, their place, and now... he felt cold. His cock started to shrink inside Luna.

"No, George. Don't stop, it's okay. Remember, you are your own person, too."

Then he felt his hand move, and realized she had hold of his wrist and was guiding his hand to her crotch. She peeled open her lips, and put his finger right up to the swollen nub of her clit. Then she took her hand away, moving it up into her hair as her hips jerked faster. The quick motion reminded him, funnily enough, of a rabbit. He continued to roll his finger against her clit, and watching her body respond made his cock swell to life inside her again. Then her pussy fluttered around him, she let out that high-pitched squeal, and her body went into spasms. The erratic motion of her pussy around his cock was enough to make him climax only seconds after hers ended. He let out a long, satisfied moan that echoed through the graveyard. He was met with the not-too-distant hooting of an owl, indignant at the sudden disturbance.

Luna's body draped across his, her hair tickling his ribcage. She settled her head under his chin and sighed dreamily. George experienced a moment of indecision, wondering if he ought to put his arms around her. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do, since they had just had sex - his first time, no less, which was pretty bloody significant - but then he didn't know if she'd think it was too forward of him. They weren't really dating, and he didn't know the protocol. Somehow he thought Fred would know what to do, and he half-expected to hear his twin's voice taking the mickey out of him for his hesitation. But the only sounds were the wind in the trees, the rustling of dead leaves, and the occasional hooting owl.

George glanced over at the gravestone, expecting to feel the pull of loneliness. But what he felt wasn't loneliness - it was actually closer to contentment. He still missed Fred like the dickens, and there would be parts of him that would never feel quite whole again, but right now in that moment he felt for the first time in a year that he might actually be able to move forward. With that, he started to lift his arms, intending to put them around Luna's back. But he was interrupted when she suddenly disengaged herself, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head. She sighed.

"Thank you for that, George. I found it quite enjoyable, and I take it from your enthusiastic noises during orgasm that you did as well. But I need to go now. I'm meeting Dad for supper, and I expect you might want to get back to the shop."

"Oh. Erm...yeah, okay." George felt a sting of disappointment as he watched her stand up and begin to dress. He propped himself up on his elbows, pondering the situation. He found that he didn't want her to leave; he actually enjoyed her company. Then he had an idea. It was mental, to be sure, and he almost couldn't believe he was even about to suggest it. He cleared his throat. "So Luna, d'you think maybe we might...I don't know, go out -- ?"

"I do appreciate the thought, and I like you very much, but I don't think you should confuse our having sex with the idea that you should ask me on a date. I am doing well on my own right now. Dad is still quite scarred from the war, and he needs my companionship. And I believe there is another witch with whom you would rather spend time?" She paused in the middle of wrapping her scarf to look at him with that knowing expression. George's chest felt full as an image of Verity flashed through his head. Then he blinked at Luna in surprise.

"Hang on, how did you know about -- ?"

Luna smiled. "I'm sure if you were to ask her out, George, she would be more than happy to accept. I have a feeling you will be very happy together." When George hesitated, Luna knelt down and touched his arm. "You're ready," she said simply.

George looked deeply into her big, silvery eyes and smiled. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it. "Yeah, maybe I am. Thanks, Luna."

Luna stood up, straightening her skirt. "You're welcome. Now if you get dressed, maybe we can Apparate together back to Diagon Alley? I don't much care for Apparition on my own, but I find side-along Apparition much more manageable. If we leave now, there should still be enough time for you to catch Verity before she leaves for the evening. I would also like to stop at the apothecary shop to pick up some provisions before meeting Dad."

"Sure, we can do that. Just give me a minute."

* * *

It was not quite six o'clock when George rounded the corner with a bounce in his step after bidding goodbye to Luna a block earlier. He stopped short when he noticed the petite figure clothed in a blue wool coat and matching blue knit cap step outside the shop door. He knew it was Verity from the shock of blonde hair protruding from the hem of the cap. Suddenly not sure how to proceed, he lingered just out of sight as she turned the key in the lock and then sealed it with an additional locking charm and shut off the porch light with a quick wave of her wand. He could see the wisps of her breath in the cold air. She had just pocketed the key and her wand, and was turning to walk away when he felt a tightness in his chest. It was now or never.

"Hey, Verity!" he called, perhaps a little too loudly. She was so startled she nearly fell over, and he rushed to take her arm before she toppled. When she recovered, she looked up at him, wide-eyed and red-cheeked from the cold. He had never stood this close to her before; she was really quite small, the top of her head barely reaching his chest. And he'd never noticed just how full her lips were, with just the slightest pout...His heart began to pound.

"Oh! Mr. Weasley, I'm sorry -- I know it's a few minutes early, but the shop was empty and -- " she started, words tumbling out on top of each other. She looked so endearing that George had to refrain from grinning at her.

"No, no that's fine. It is pretty dead around here tonight." George glanced around at the nearly empty sidewalk lined by streetlamps, where only a handful of evening shoppers strolled. Then he realized he was still holding on to her arm. His face flushed, and he abruptly took his hand away. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a flash of disappointment cross her face. "I...erm...actually I was -- "

"Did you have a nice visit?" she asked, sliding her hands into her pockets.

"Visit?" he paused. "Yes, that - it was great, thanks. I -- um, where are you headed?" He silently chided himself the moment he asked, since it was pretty obvious she was going home. But she didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, just to the market and then home for dinner. Why, did you need me to stay later? I'd be perfectly happy to -- "

"No. Um, well, what I really wanted to know is..."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

"...if you'd maybe like to have dinner. With me," he added for clarification. "Like a date."

Verity looked noticeably taken off guard, and she averted her eyes for a moment. It only then occurred to George that he hadn't considered the possibility that despite their mutual attraction, she might have a boyfriend. She'd never mentioned one, but then he'd also never asked. He was about to apologize, and take back the whole thing, when she looked back at him with wide eyes and an enthusiastic smile that lit up her face. "I'd love to!"

"Yeah? Really?"

Verity nodded. "Yes, absolutely. To be honest...well, I'd been rather hoping you would. I wasn't expecting it, since I know that employer-employee fraternization is frowned upon. But I do like you, Mr. Weasley. Very much so."

"Brilliant." George grinned. He took his right hand out of his pocket and held out his arm for her. "Shall we?"

Then suddenly Verity's face fell, and he felt a sting of alarm. She looked at him worriedly, her brow creased. "Just one thing, does this mean I ought to give up my position at the shop? Because I do love working here, and I'd hate to have to choose. "

George had to refrain from laughing out of sheer relief. "Rubbish! Of course not. Although there is only one thing I would like you to do before we go."

"What's that, Mr. Weasley?"

"Please, from now on, call me George."

Verity rewarded him with a bright smile. "Absolutely, George," she said, and she held out her arm.
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