There were three things George learnt that day; Ginny Weasley looked Beautiful in white, Ron was Goddamn awful at giving speeches and he wanted to Marry Angelina Johnson.
"There's someone..." Ron started, paling slightly and clearing his throat, "There's someone missing here to day..." he stammered on, after receiving a reassuring smile from Hermione; who sat on George's right. Ginny reached her hand out, taking Ron's in hers and giving it a tight squeeze. Ron smiled down at her before glancing over at George, who gave him a wink and a nod, "So here's to Fred," Ron coughed out, holding up his shot of firewhiskey up in the air.
"To Fred," chimed the rest of the wedding party, each throwing back their own shot of firewhiskey.
3 3 3
He made up his mind as he watched his father attempt to dance with both Angelina and Hermione at the same time. She threw her head back, her laughter echoing across the dance floor, mixing along with his father's and Hermione's as their limbs got tangled.
"How's it our dad can get two ladies and we can't get one?" Asked Ron; holding out a butter beer to him.
"He's got the moves Ron, He's got the moves," chuckled George as they glanced back to where their father was currently expertly twirling both girls out and back.
"Look George..." stuttered Ron, picking nervously at the label on his butterbeer.
"Ron," He interrupted, shaking his head and adjusting his dress robes awkwardly, "You said everything that needed to be said, Fred wouldn't have wanted us to bring down Ginny's day with his memory, what you said was perfect, he always loved a good shot of firewhiskey!"
"It was Hermione's idea," Ron grinned slightly, looking fondly at her across the room.
"That 'ermione ones brilliant Ron," George laughed, taking a sip of his beer before turning serious, "You take care of her."
Ron arched his eyebrow curiously, trying to hold back his snigger.
"George, you do realise me and Hermione have been dating for the past four years?" Questioned the youngest Male Weasley.
"Yeah, but she doesn't have an older brother for this sort of thing, And when you first started of dating I was really..." he began, noticing the uncomfortable shift in atmosphere, "well I wasn't myself," He countered, clearing his throat awkwardly. "And then there was me and Angelina and then there was the wedding and I just didn't get around to it," he shrugged, before turning very serious, "Seriously Ron, don't screw it up."
"Trust me," chuckled Ron sarcastically, "I'm not planning on it."
A comfortable silence fell between the two siblings as the look on adoringly at their respective other halves.
As the tempo of the music slowed down, the girls departed from their dancing partner as his daughter, all dressed in white, took their places.
"I think the pantry's Free," Angelina whispered seductively in George's good ear as she perched herself on his lap.
"Ever the timid Miss Johnson," George teased at his girlfriend's forwardness.
"Are you really complaining Weasley," she challenged with an arch of her eyebrow.
"Of course not," he grinned back, tightening his clasp on her waist as he pulled her into a kiss.
'Oi! Get a room,' shouted a voice that George hadn't heard in a while...a voice that no one could hear any more.
He grinned to himself as he laced his fingers through Angelina's and led her out of the marquee and towards the burrow.
3 3 3
The ring Ginny had helped him pick out a month before lay in the top drawer of his office in the joke shop, locked and charmed.
That's how you could view his decision to ask Angelina to be his wife; under lock and charm. No one knew except Ginny. He couldn't risk her finding out and being a part of the Weasleys. Unfortunately discretion wasn't their strong point; especially not Molly's.
George was helping her prepare the Sunday lunch-the muggle way. In the deserted kitchen when he let her in on the secret, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny hadn't arrived yet and he knew how mad his mother would be if he didn't let her know what he was planning.
There was a hushed squeak and a broken plate, and even though it was done quietly, it didn't go unnoticed by Angelina who came out with three year old Victorie to see what all the fuss was about.
But before George and Molly could give an explanation, Ron and Hermione apparated in.
"She said yes!" He cried. Molly stood in shock, Angelina stood Perplexed and George stood gutted. He was going to ask Angelina today at dinner.
"Ron! We agreed we'd wait until everyone was here!" Reprimanded Hermione, but the grin was still plastered on her lips and there was a blush on her cheeks.
Molly eyes welled up with tears as she grabbed Ron, pulling him in a tight embrace and Angelina finally realised what was going and grabbed Hermione's left hand to get a look at the diamond.
Ginny and Harry soon flew in, clearly trying to reach the burrow before Ron had, a sympathetic look hazing Ginny eyes and features. George simply shrugged before grabbing Ron and Hermione in turn congratulating them.
3 3 3
George learnt three things that day; white complimented Hermione's skin beautifully, Harry was even worse at giving speeches than Ron was and Angelina wanted to marry him too.
"Seriously Gin, for the boy-who-lived, Harry really lacks when it comes to public speaking," George laughed as he swayed around the dance floor with his baby sister.
Ginny rolled her eyes and gave her brother a slight push.
"Yeah, well, for someone who bought a ring..." Began Ginny loudly before George hushed her swiftly, looking around to see if anyone had overheard her speaking, "a year and a half ago you're lacking in the marital status!" she whispered harshly.
"Stuff came up!" George defended himself. Ginny snorted in response, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Yeah like what?" she asked.
"Like Ron asking Hermione!" George argued back nodding his head towards the married couple looking sickeningly happy in the middle of the dance floor.
'George, buddy, that was almost a year and a half ago,' came the voice that was now a regular in George's head when he tried to make excuse as to why he hadn't plucked up the courage to ask yet.
"Ginny went and got pregnant!" He responded out loud, glaring up at the ceiling. Ginny pressed her lips together in an attempt to control her obvious amusement.
"Hey Fred, can you stay out of this conversation for a sec, thanks, really appreciate," laughed Ginny, causing George to chuckle, "I talk to him all the time." She rested her chin on George's chest and looked up at him with the same chocolate brown eyes that had watered when Fred and George had refused to let her play Quidditch with them at the tender age of six.
"Don't lie! You're talking to yourself," laughed George causing Ginny to once again roll her eyes, "Me too," he whispered.
"He was the first person I told when Harry and I found out," she mumbled, rubbing the bump between them.
"He was the first person I told everything to," muttered George, staring off into space slightly.
"Yeah and if he were here, he'd be telling you to get on with it, man up and ask her already!" Laughed Ginny, but the tears were still glistening in her eyes. "God, I hate the both of you sometimes!" She said, hiding face in her brother's chest as a few stray tears escaped down her cheeks.
"Don't cry I'll ask her soon Gin, I promise!" he joked, causing her to poke him in his rib, "I miss him too."
3 3 3
George tentatively took a sip of his butterbeer as he gently caressed Angelina's arm with his fingertips, while her head lolled slightly to the side against his shoulder. She let out a soft sigh as she snuggled in closer to his side.
"Sickle for your thoughts?" he whispered gently, squeezing her lightly.
"Hmm?" murmured Angelina, glancing up at George through heavy lidded eyes.
"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Love," he laughed quietly, placing his butter beer on the table covered in the carefully picked out table cloth that matched the Wedding colour theme.
"Nothing," she muttered, letting her eyes close slightly, "I was just thinking," she began, Blinking a few times in an attempt to wake herself up, "that this was all a lot of effort for one day," she explained, nodding her head towards Hermione and Ron who were still giggling on the dance floor. "I mean really, what does it mean? It's just signatures on a piece of parchment at the end of the day."
If George didn't know better, He would say that Angelina was trying to convince herself of this fact more than anyone else. He glanced down at his drowsy accompanier, a deep frown setting on his lips, creases in his forehead and a sweaty panic working through his pores.
"What do you mean?" He asked, trying to sound as casual as possible, "Do you not feel like marriage is for you?"
She sighed once again, a soft smile playing on her lips, shaking her head causing the now stray curls to tickle his nose.
"No, I'm not saying that, I'm just saying I don't think I'd want the whole big day, with colour themes that have to be kept to, bridesmaids that I have never met before, and your mother having the final word on everything," she explained stopping to take a breath. "I mean, I love your mother George, you know I do, but she can be a bit..." she stammered for the right word.
"Overbearing, Pernickety, difficult, insistent, stop me at any time Angie, cause I could go on for hours," joked George, earning himself a smack on the chest form his soon-to-be-fiancé.
"No! I mean, she loves you all so much, she just wants your big days to be perfect," Angelina explained, nodding her head as if affirming her theory to herself.
"That's just a nice way of saying overbearing Angie," he laughed dodging another swing of her palm.
"All I'm saying is that I'm not sure that's how I want our wedding day to be," she replied, giggling lightly at her boyfriend's immaturity.
George felt his body freeze although Angelina seemed oblivious to the awkward tension that settled between them. He leaned over, gulping down the rest of his butterbeer before finishing what he'd began.
"I always thought the beach by shell cottage was sort of..." he struggled for the right word, his cheeks turning crimson at the options floating in his brain.
"Perfect?" questioned Angelina looking up at him with sleepy hazel eyes, biting her bottom lip, seduction radiating from her body in a way that George had never seen before.
"Perfect," he whispered softly, placing lips softly against hers, their eyes staying open and sharing a knowing look, and that's when George new he had to ask her soon.
"Pantry?" she whispered back.
"Pantry," he grinned getting up and leading her out of the Marquee once again.
3 3 3
Angelina groaned to herself as she riffled through George's office one Friday afternoon. She was in need of a piece of parchment as none was to be found anywhere.
She let out another shriek of frustration as the mess in George's desk just seemed to get messier the further she got into it.
It had been six months since Ron and Hermione's wedding, and despite their conversation and the obvious – or so she thought – hints Angelina had been dropping, a ring was yet to be placed on her finger.
"Angie," George said through gritted teeth from the office door, "I'm trying to serve customers here, what is your problem?"
"I need parchment!" She seethed back, whipping around to face him, her braids falling behind her, "So I can do inventory forthe joke shop you own!"
George glanced over his shoulder at the fast growing queue, shrugging helplessly at Varity's desperate looks.
"Well could you do it a little quieter?" He suggested, with a quirk of his eyebrows and a charming smile.
Angelina let out a breath which in turn formed into a growl.
"George Weasley, I swear if you don't get out of my sight right now..." she began, through heavy breaths, before Ron suddenly appeared beside George.
"I'm back from lunch," he stated forcing a grin, before shoving George into the office with Angelina, "We have costumers, would you guys keep it down!" He slammed the door behind him and stalked off to the tills.
"That's rich coming from him," mumbled George, leaning against the desk, folding his arms thinking of all the scenes he and Hermione had caused in the past. "Here," he held out piece of parchment he put his hands on. "You're welcome," he grinned.
Angelina snatched it out of his hands, letting her eyes roam over the scribbled over piece of parchment.
"This is last month's inventory!" She cried out. "George you know..." she began, causing George to roll his eyes again.
"Try the top drawer, Merlin, imagine if you were a witch, who knew how to use a wand and magic, meaning you could summon a piece of parchment to you!" he cried out sarcastically, "Imagine it, Angie!"
Angelina glared at him as she moved past him in an attempt to open the top drawer, "The damn things jammed!"
George rolled his eyes at her, turning his head slightly to the left, watching in irritation as Angelina fought with the drawer.
"Seriously, Angie just use your..." he began to explain before Angelina slammed her hands against the drawer in frustration.
"Open!" She cried out.
George's exterior softened slightly, as he placed his hand gently on Angelina's back.
"What's wrong Love?" he whispered, ignoring the hurt that swelled through him when she shrugged his hand off her.
"Nothing," she replied tersely, still refusing to turn towards George, but he could tell form the quiver in her voice that she was on the verge of tears.
"Angie, come on, tell me what's wrong," he whispered in that soothing voice he knew she couldn't resist.
"Alicia owled today," she muttered.
"Well isn't that good? You've been complaining that she and Katie haven't kept in touch..."Began George before being interrupted by Angelina
"Katie and Oliver had a boy," she replied in a monotone.
"That's fantast..." he started once again to be interrupted.
"Alicia and Lee got engaged," she added in the same tone, "And I'm...We're...Not!"
George gulped slighted, feeling himself begin to sweat.
"I mean..." She turned to wards him, laughing bitterly, "Have I not dropped enough hints, or am I just not marriage material?"
"Angie..." he began to explain, but nothing came out.
"Look, George, I've been trying to avoid this conversation, I've been trying to give you time, But It's been four years, I'm not getting any younger, and neither or you! It doesn't work the same way for girls as it does for boys George, I want babies, the clocks ticking," she began to explain, causing a burst of excitement rush through George.
Once again George opened his mouth to interrupt her, but Angelina stomped her foot childishly and let out a squeak of protest.
"Are you gonna keep on interrupting me or are you gonna let me speak!" she screeched, earning a raised eyebrow from George in response. "Well..." she started, stumbling for the words she wanted to say, "Well I don't have anything else to say, but the interrupting thing was getting really annoying!"
George chuckled in response, as he walked over and took a seat on his desk chair, clamping his hands together and laying them on his stomach. Angelina turned around to face him, sighing in frustration at the amused look on his face and mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"You can talk now!" She snipped childishly, turning her nose up in annoyance.
"Thanks sweetie!" he grinned cheekily back, knowing the sarcasm would grit on her nerves.
"You're welcome honey," she snarled back, causing him to chuckle, the chuckle that Angelina could never resist. She let a small smile creep on her lips, walking around the desk, lacing her fingers through George's out stretched hand and letting him pull her onto his lap.
"I do want to marry you," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and setting his chin on her shoulder. "I wish it had been me who brought up the conversation but I guess you always were a bit of a control freak..." he trailed of, earning a playful nudge from Angelina, "Okay, Assertive."
"Yeah, George, you've only had six years," Angelina replied with a snort.
"I know," George rolled his eyes, "I have tried, but things just kept getting in the way."
"Like what?" Demanded Angelina with a doubtful look.
"Ron and Hermione getting engaged," informed George, "Look, I know I come off like a heartless prat most of the time, but I know how long Ron has been pinning after Hermione, and then it took him another four years to propose -" he explained only to have Angelina interrupt him.
"Better than six," she stated, earning a glare from her boyfriend.
"...And I just didn't want to steal their lightning...or whatever that muggle saying is."
"George, it doesn't matter, you don't need to tell me this, I just got jealous..." she began, guilt automatically setting in. George shook his head in disagreement.
"No, I need to tell you this," he answered, taking a deep breath, "And then Ginny got pregnant, and Harry hadn't had a family before, and they were so excited," he stopped to take a breath, avoiding Angelina's eyes, "And then by the time mum had stopped fussing over Ginny, she was fussing over Hermione and what flowers would go best with the colour scheme, and arguing over whether it was appropriate or not to have bridesmaids she'd never met before."
Angelina shook her head smiling at the memory, remembering how it put her off the whole marriage thing.
"Ron got so stressed out..." he murmured, "To be honest, Angie it put me of the whole marriage thing all together."
Angelina's heart dropped along with her face.
"No, Angie..." he began immediately, "I want to marry you, I want to start a family with you...I just...Okay I did something really stupid."
"Seriously George! Stop with the excuses if you don't want to marry me -" she exclaimed.
"I lost the ring," he admitted sheepishly.
"You have a ring?" stammered Angelina in shock.
"Had a ring," winced George.
"Are you serious?" Angelina asked, raising her eyebrow, "That has to be some sort of sign."
"Of my Weasley Genes...yeah it's a big sign," George retorted, giving a snort of his own.
Just as Angelina was about to explain herself, Ron came bursting through the door.
"Have you sorted out your lovers tiff yet, Varity sort of needs help out front," he said in a rushed breath, nudging his head in the direction of the tills.
"I'll be out in a minute Ron," George stated with a sigh, rubbing his furrowed brow. It looked like Ron was going to add something, but even he could pick up that he'd walked in on something important and turned and left immediately.
"Here," he murmured while Angelina got up from his lap as he pointed his wand in the direction off the top drawer, uttering a few words under his breath before the drawer fling open, "I'll go help out front, there should be parchment, ink and a quail in there," he whispered, kissing her forehead before leaving.
Angelina nodded numbly, as her eyes were drawn to a velvet box hidden at the back of the drawer.
"You okay Angie?" George questioned from the doorway taking in her worried stance.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," she stammered, waving her hand in his direction, causing him to shrug his shoulders slightly, before turning and greeting the many customers that had just arrived.
Angelina knew she should take the parchment and slam the drawer shut and not think about it ever again. Angelina knew this is what she should do, but she also knew that's not what she was going to do...or what George would expect her to do.
Her shaking hand reached out timidly-not something that Angelina was used to herself being-and grabbed the box in her hands cradling it to her chest as she took in her surroundings to make sure no-one was looking.
She slumped into the chair that George had just vacated, and slowly opened the box, let out a soft gasp of surprise.
He'd got it so right, so, so right. It was simple, but so graceful: it was Angelina. The diamond wasn't too big or too small and the band wasn't incrusted with anything, it was just perfect. She had to restrain herself from reaching out and slipping it on to her ring finger herself knowing that job was George's no matter how long she had to wait.
She took a calming breath, snapping the box shut, placing it back in the drawer and putting it under lock and charm.
3 3 3
Days went by, days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Ginny had her baby, a little baby boy James, Alicia and Lee tied the knot and Katie and Oliver were expecting again, and Angelina grew impatient. And George loved every minute of it.
He knew she'd seen the ring. He knew was expecting it, and not to be the type to do the expected he made her wait a little bit longer.
Brother, this is being a little too mean don't you think?
George heard that oh so familiar voice ask him that question one day when he was visiting the owners grave. Instead of responding like he normally would, he simply paused, waiting for what was to come next.
Who am I kidding; this is genius Georgie, genius!
George shook his head chuckling softly to himself, causing Angelina to look up at him form were she was rearranging the flowers on his grave. They were pointless in George's opinion, Fred didn't even like flowers.
"What did he say about me?" she smiled up at him, rolling her eyes, "What's wrong with my outfit this time?"
George shook his head, tapping his nose in response; receiving another roll off the eyes as she stood up from where she was standing.
"There Fred, All better," she muttered, placing her hand on top of his head stone. She gave George's shoulder a soft rub before she turned to leave him with Fred by himself for a few moments like she did every time they visited.
"Wait," He whispered, lacing his fingers through hers. Angelina shot him a curious look and stood beside him awkwardly.
"What's wrong?" She questioned, before George pulled out the red velvet box that she recognised. Her hand immediately flew to her mouth as her head shook from side to side frantically.
"I know I'm meant to get down on one knee, and tell you a whole load of reason as to why I love you and don't deserve you, but you know that's not really my style," he smiled down at her, "And I really don't want to get my best robes all dirty," He opened up the box slowly, revealing the ring. The perfect ring. Angelina's ring.
She stared down at it wide eyes, her body shaking, her heart thumping and her eyes welling up with tears.
"Yes!" she croaked out, wiping her cheeks frantically trying to get rid of the tears.
Geez Angie, let the lad ask the question!
"Shut up Fred!" Angelina cried out, before turning back to George, "Yes," she repeated.
"Are you sure? You'll be stuck with my mother for a wedding planner..." be began to run off a list of reasons why Angelina should say no, before Angelina pounded on him, planting her lips soundly on his.
"And I can't wait for her demand that your second cousins, nieces, daughter would just make the perfect flower girl," she whispered, against his lips, scrunching her eyes tight, "I love George Weasley."
"I love you too Angelina Johnson," he grinned back, slipping the ring on to her left finger before grinning over at the tombstone.
3 3 3
"And like at every wedding, made tradition by our little Ronniekins..." George ended his speech, raising the shot of fire whiskey in Ron's direction, "To Fred."
"To Fred," chorused the rest of the congregation.
There was three things that George Weasley learnt that day; white suited Angelina the most, he was the best at giving speeches and being married to Angelina was going to be amazing.