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George's Date (one-shot)



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Old November 12th, 2006, 2:33 am
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George's Date (one-shot)

“To gain that which is worth having, it may be necessary to lose everything else.”


“Ron, just answer the question!” Ginny snapped. She was sitting in the kitchen across from her brother Ron, a copy of a Muggle magazine propped open in front of her and a quill in her right hand.

“I already told you: no, I’m your brother! It’s just…weird,” Ron replied with a shudder.

“Just pretend that you’re my boyfriend.”

“Who, Harry?” Ron immediately knew he had said the wrong thing. He ducked just in time as Ginny chucked the magazine at his head. It hit Fred instead.

“Oy, watch your aim!” Fred laughed, rubbing his nose. He bent down and picked up the magazine, staring wide-eyed at the page Ginny had it turned to.

“‘Getting to Know You: A 23-Question Test to See How Much You Know About Your Mate,’” read George in a dramatic voice. “Ginny, what are you doing with this rubbish?”

“It isn’t rubbish,” she replied with dignity. “Dad got it for me from a Muggle stoopermarket or something rather.”

“Oy, Fred, let’s see how well you know me!”

Fred snatched the magazine from his brother’s hands and began scanning down the list. “‘If given the choice would your mate either a. Spend quality time with you,’ aww!”

“Give it back!” Ginny yelled, standing up out of her chair so fast that it fell over.

Ignoring her, Fred continued. “‘—b. Give you loads of gifts, c. Snog you,” ooh! ‘or d. Send you out on errands.’ Hmm. I know you love me, George, but I think we can definitely rule ‘c’ out.”

“Hear, hear!” cheered George and Ron, pounding their fists on the table. Ginny scowled at them.

“What are we ‘hear-hearing’ about in here?” asked Angelina Johnson, shutting the outside door behind her. Seeing as she had startled Ron and Ginny, she quickly apologized. “Sorry, it was partially open.”

“Blast!” cried Ron. “Don’t tell Mum; she’d kill me. We’re supposed to keep the door shut and locked at all times.”

“Fat lot of good that would do,” George scoffed. “You-Know-Who could just Alohamora his way in.”
“Or he could just Apparate,” said Fred wisely.

“Or you two could shut it!” said Angelina with a shudder.

“Hear, hear!” cried Ron and Ginny.

“What’s this?” Angelina took the Muggle magazine out of Fred’s hands and began reading. Slowly a smile passed across her face and she laughed. “Your dad must have bought this.”

“It’s mine, Angelina. George here’s been quizzing Fred.”

Fred snatched the magazine from her hands and began scanning down the quiz. “And now that you’re here, my dear, will you tell me if I like long walks on the beach or snuggling in front of a roaring fire better?”

“Please, I don’t need to take a test about you; I know you like the back of my hand.”

Fred threw the magazine aside, snatched Angelina’s hands and wrapped her arms around his waist. “All right, how many moles are on the back of your…right hand, Miss Johnson?”

“Two, you nut,” she laughed.

“No there are…Ooh, you’re right,” he said, removing her hand and studying it for a moment; “there are two. Never mind. But you still don’t know me as well as you think.”

“Oh, really? What is there to know?”

“…Besides the fact that he’s mental?” muttered Ron.

Fred ignored him. “All right, miss smarty-pants, prove it. Take that test.”

“What?” Angelina smirked.

“Just take the test…I dare you.”

“What are we, second-years again?”

“You’re scared.”

“Am not.”

“Are so!”

“Oh, will you two stop it?” Ginny groaned.
“Lover dovers,” muttered George, though he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Tell you what,” said Angelina to Fred; “why don’t we forget about the stupid test and go out on that nice romantic dinner you promised me? How does that sound?”

Fred thought for a moment then smiled. “You’re right; let me just get changed into something more decent and we’ll go. C’mon, George.”

“What do you need George for?” Angelina asked, raising an eyebrow at the twins, who were quickly making their way to the stairs.

“I’m fresh out of clean laundry; I’ll have to borrow something of his. See you in a few.” Fred and George quickly mounted the stairs and shut themselves in their old room, which their father had turned into a haven for broken Muggle appliances.

“All right, Fred, what’s the plan?” asked George.

Fred motioned for him to be quiet for a moment, and put his ear against the door to listen. Sure enough, Ginny and Angelina were talking away. “Wait for it…” A few seconds later Ron came marching up the steps, muttering something about “women”, then slammed his door shut behind him.

“What’s up?” George repeated.

“You’re going on my date for me.”

George grinned. “Gonna make Angelina eat her words, eh?”

“Back of her hand, my broomstick,” Fred laughed. He pointed his wand at his trunk, which sprang open. “Try to pick out something that doesn’t make us look peaky.”

George stripped off his shirt and threw it at Fred. The boys then changed as hastily as they could into one another’s clothes, George selecting Fred’s dragonhide pants with matching vest and a white T-shirt.

“All right, just remember: act as I would.”

“Right.” George rolled his eyes and they clamored down the staircase, nearly knocking into their mother, who was closely followed by Angelina.

“George, Fred, no running in the house,” their mother scolded. “Honestly, you’d think they were still five. Oh, George, you look nice.”

“He’s not George, I am!” Fred complained.

“Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother,” said George.
“Oh, I’m—not falling for that again, George.”

“No, he really is Fred,” said Angelina, taking George by the arm.

The real Fred hid a smirk. “Well, you two should be going I ’spect,” he said, punching his brother in the arm playfully.

“Do be safe,” said their mom. “Let’s see…Keep your wands in sight at all times. Apparate directly there and back. And don’t—”

“—Talk to strangers,” Fred, George and Angelina answered, causing the woman to frown.

“We’ll be perfectly safe, Molly,” said Angelina, giving the woman a hug.

“Yeah, Mum; don’t get your knickers in a knot,” said George, patting her on the shoulder.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Fred called out. He quickly grabbed his brother by the arm. “Really, don’t.”

George winked and took Angelina’s hand. “Hogsmeade?”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s what we were planning on, wasn’t it?”

George seemed panicked for a minute, but quickly recovered and grinned. “Just testing you. Shall we?”

Hand-in-hand, the two then Disapparated. Fred grinned and quickly followed.

***

It was a quiet evening in Hogsmeade. The normally bustling streets were all but bare. Stores were closed and boarded up left and right, giving the village a sort of “ghost town” feeling.

George and Angelina Apparated in front of The Magic Wok, a new restaurant that Fred had been wanting to try out. “Ooh, something smells good,” said Angelina.

“Why, thank you,” said George cheekily, just as Fred Apparated into the alleyway.

George opened the bright yellow door and stepped inside, leaving Angelina to get the door on her own. “The git’s going to ruin my reputation,” Fred said darkly, watching his girl heave a heavy sigh then follow George inside.

Fred counted to twenty then followed, taking a booth just behind George and Angelina.
“What I can get for you?” asked a kindly-looking Chinese lady, dressed in Oriental witch’s robes.

“Some tea would be lovely,” Fred whispered, winking at the waitress, who giggled and headed for the kitchen. When he was certain that he wasn’t being watched, Fred parted the privacy curtain that hung over the top of the booth, which hid him from George and Angelina’s view. George and Angelina were sitting next to each other, their backs mercifully turned to him.

“I sure know how to choose a place, don’t I?” George was saying.

Angelina gave him a slight shove. “You are so arrogant.” She leaned in to kiss him, but, much to Fred’s relief, George turned his cheek.

“Easy there, missy; let’s save dessert for last.”

“You cheese ball.”

Fred smirked; so far so good.

“So where do you see us in the future?” asked Angelina, wrapping her arm around George’s shoulder.

“Uh-oh,” Fred moaned.

“I don’t know…read a fortune cookie.”

“Be serious.”

“Oh, we’ll be married, of course,” George responded off-handedly.

“When?”

“Er, in a few years.”

“I was thinking sooner. Think we’ll have children?”

“I s’pose. Ooh, spring rolls,” George said suddenly, pointing to a spot on the menu.

“This is not happening,” Fred groaned.

“How many children do you s’pose?”

Fred could imagine George’s face going red. “I dunno,” said George. “How many do you want?”

“Oh, six or seven…or maybe ten.”

“Sounds good to me. Ah, lemon chicken.”

Fred began chewing his napkin. Did Angelina really want ten children? They had never talked about it before.

“And I suppose you’ll dump that stupid joke shop,” said Angelina.

“I—what?”

Fred’s ears perked up.

“Here is your tea, dear,” said the waitress, setting a cup and pot in front of Fred. “You already to order now?”

“Yeah, just a moment, please,” he replied absently.

“Take your time.”

“You mean leave Fr—George?” George’s voice was getting rather high.

“Well, the famous duo’s gotta split up some time, hasn’t it?” Angelina was starting to sound rather testy. “I’m sure George can run the store by himself. Besides, you’ve already made enough money to retire on, and I’ll need you to stay at home to watch the kids while I’m at work.”

“Wait a minute—” Fred muttered. This did not sound like Angelina at all.

“Give up the joke shop? Stay h-home with the kids?”

“I thought we had agreed on this already.”

“You mean I have to choose?”

“Yes: the joke shop or me.”

“But—”

“You know,” said Angelina in a rather seductive voice, “if you want to have something worthwhile, you might have to lose everything else.” She traced her finger up his chest and tickled his neck.

George gulped, then took a great swig of tea. “I don’t think I could do that.”

Fred groaned. “George—”

“I know the man who loves me, and he would give up everything in a heartbeat,” Angelina snapped.

“Yeah, well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think!”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“Well, George, I obviously don’t know you that well. But if Fred really knows me like I think he does, he’ll realize that I don’t need to take a stupid test; I love him and that’s enough.”

Fred’s mouth hung open.

“So, how long did you know it was me?” asked George.

“What a George thing to say,” Fred sighed.

“Please, I know this man like the back of my hand.” Angelina reached through the curtain and grabbed a handful of Fred’s ginger hair and gave it a yank. “Get over here, you loveable git.”

“Ouch!”

“Aww, does that twinge a bit?” Angelina asked in mock sympathy.

“Coming!” he laughed as she released her hair. “George, I believe you’re in my seat.”

George laughed, got up, and with a wink he Disapparated.

“I think you scared George a bit there,” Fred laughed, cuddling up to Angelina.

“George? I bet you wet your pants. Ten children,” she giggled into her tea.

“Why not?”

Angelina spewed a mouthful of tea across the room. “You’re not serious?”

“Am I? You don’t know me as well as you think.” Fred smiled at her and took a sip of George’s tea.


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