The First Day

Molly stood on the landing, turning the envelope over in her hands. She knocked softly on the door. 'George? You've got a letter from Lee, and breakfast is ready...' There was no response. Molly hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Instead, she bent and slid the envelope under the door, then swiftly pattered down the stairs.

Inside the darkened bedroom, George stared at the pale square on the floor, just beyond the edge of the rug next to the bed. He slowly placed his feet to the floor and slid off the edge of the narrow mattress, picking up the stiff envelope. Elegant calligraphy adorned the envelope, in place of Lee's usual nearly-illegible scrawl. Must have had it professionally done, George mused. He turned it over and ripped the envelope open, pulling out the card inside. Lee was doing a broadcast of his show on New Year's Eve at the Leaky Cauldron. Must be a swanky do, if he's sent out the fancy invites. George flipped the card over, revealing an untidy message from Lee.

George,

Please come. You haven't been anywhere in ages. Everyone misses you, mate.

Bring Ron and Harry, too.

And feel free to bring a date! And if Harry and Ron want to bring Ginny and Hermione, the more the merrier.

Lee

George sighed and dropped the invitation on the desk. People kept telling him he didn't have to bury himself. First Katie, then Percy. 'New year... Maybe I ought to get out a bit more...' It wouldn't be so hard if he didn't feel so guilty about going out and having fun without Fred. He swallowed hard and opened the bedroom door. At least Christmas was over and George had been neglecting the shop dreadfully for the last week. 'Just get in there and do it, George, just like you did in August...' He padded down the stairs and into the kitchen. The murmurs around the table died for a brief moment, then quickly began again. George was relieved when they ignored his reappearance, and took his seat at the scrubbed wooden table. He accepted a bowl of porridge from Molly and stirred sugar and raisins into it. 'So, erm... Lee's doing his show on Thursday night from the Leaky Cauldron, if you want to go,' he said to Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

'Like a party?' Ginny asked.

'Yeah, I suppose...' George bent his head over his bowl.

'Dress robes?' Ron asked, his lip curling in distaste.

George shrugged. 'If you want. Invitation just said dressy attire.'

'I'm game, as long I can wear something besides dress robes,' Ron muttered. 'Can I bring Hermione?'

'Of course you can,' George said crossly. 'Didn't I just say that?'

'No.' Ron kept his eyes on his breakfast.

'Well, you can,' George mumbled shortly.

Harry eyed Ginny and tilted his head toward George, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. Ginny spread jam on her toast and gazed at George while she nibbled the edges for a moment before she nodded. 'Might be fun,' she murmured.

'Will you two stop doing that?' Ron exclaimed.

'Stop doing what?' Harry asked, glancing down confusedly at his hands. They were both visible above the table, as were Ginny's.

'That thing where you don't actually talk to each other!' Ron huffed. 'It's a bit weird, isn't it?'

'Did you have a row with Hermione or something?' George asked Ron. 'You're not normally in a strop unless you've had a row with your better half.' He glanced at Harry. 'Make that halves.'

'Oh, ha-bloody-ha,' Ron grunted, annoyed. 'Are you going to come into the shop today or not?'

'I thought I'd check the inventory to see what we're low on. I figure we'll have some students come by before they go back to school.' George toyed with his spoon.

'Brilliant,' Ron grumbled. 'If we go now, I can ring Hermione from the telephone box in the village, and see if she can come help for a bit.'

'The two of you coming?' George asked Harry and Ginny.

'Absolutely. I can add a few more Galleons to my pocket money,' Ginny told him.

'Anything to help,' George muttered.

Molly set her teacup down in its saucer hard. 'Isn't it a little too early for you lot to start in on each other?' she asked.

'Sorry, Mum,' Ron murmured contritely.

'Yeah, Mum... Sorry,' breathed George.

'Now, if you're going to the shop, you'd better go. I'm expecting Fleur later, and I don't want to be in the middle of doing the washing up when she gets here.'

'Since when are you and Fleur chums?' Ron wondered.

'I can have my daughter-in-law over for tea, now, can't I?' Molly retorted.

'Sure, Mum, whatever you want,' George said hastily, not wanting to get Molly's hackles up so early in the day. The last time they'd done that, she had starched his pants so much; they'd practically stood on their own. He'd chafed in several unmentionable places as well. 'Come on. Let's get going.' He shoved his chair away from the table and stood up.

'We'll be in when we're dressed.' Harry indicated his and Ginny's attire. Neither of them had expected to do anything, and were still in pajamas and dressing gowns.

'Fine,' George told them, grabbing his coat and walking out the back door. He Apparated nearly as soon as he was through the garden gate.

Ron still sat in his chair, a piece of toast dangling from his fingers, staring off into space. Harry noticed he looked more exhausted than Harry had ever seen him look before. Ron had pushed himself to the limit the past week, going in to the shop early, staying late, seemingly everywhere at once. Even Christmas Eve, he'd stayed so late, cleaning and restocking shelves with what they had left in the back; dinner had been over for some time by the time he had trudged into the garden. 'All right, mate?' Harry asked quietly.

Ron started a little, dropping his uneaten toast. 'Yeah. Brilliant,' he said darkly.

'You just seem a little tetchy.'

'That's an understatement,' Ginny chimed from behind Harry.

'Just tired, all right?' Ron said, picking up his toast, and cramming it into his mouth. 'I need to go ring Hermione before it gets too late.' He slid out of his chair. 'I'll see you at the shop.'

*****

Harry knocked on Ginny's door. 'Gin? Are you ready to go?'

The door opened and Ginny walked out, pulling her hair into a ponytail. 'I am now.' She led the way down the stairs, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the closed kitchen door, making Harry run into her.

'Oof! What'd you...?'

Ginny reached back and covered his mouth with her hand. 'Shhh!' She leaned closer to the door, straining to hear the murmured conversation on the other side.

'How long have you been trying?' Molly asked an unidentified person on the other side of the door. There was a long silence before the person gave her a muffled reply. 'It's only been a few months, dear. And you've only been married a bit more than a year.'

Ginny turned to Harry. 'It's Fleur!' she mouthed, able to discern the tones of her brother's wife, if not the words.

'Just give it some time. It's not going to happen overnight,' Molly said soothingly.

'What is she talking about?' Harry whispered in Ginny's ear.

'Don't know,' Ginny murmured.

'How many do you want?' Molly asked curiously.

'Trois. Three...' There was a pause. 'Bill, he only wants two.'

'Well, I can understand that,' Molly told her. 'It was rather rough on him, being the eldest of so many.'

'They must be trying to have a baby,' Ginny breathed.

'I kind of figured that,' Harry replied into her ear. 'Let's go out the front door... I don't want to interrupt.'

'Yeah...' Ginny said, with a twinge of pity. They tiptoed to the front door, slipping around the side of house to the back. 'Wow. You'd think everything would just come easily to Fleur. Even getting pregnant...'

'I wouldn't know,' Harry admitted. 'I'm pretty sketchy on the details of that.'

Ginny stopped with one hand on the back garden gate. 'You don't know where babies come from?' she asked incredulously.

'Yes, I know where babies come from,' Harry huffed. 'It's just the details, like what's considered difficult that I'm not too sure of.' Ginny's mouth opened, and before she could launch into an intricately detailed explanation of just what constituted details, Harry held up a hand to stem the tide of words. 'And I'm really all right with that for the mo.'

'Oh, fine,' Ginny retorted with a toss of her head. 'Miss a chance to further your education.'

'You've been around Hermione too much,' Harry said resignedly, turning on the spot and Apparating to Diagon Alley.

*****

Ron stalked into the shop, slamming the door behind him. 'You know, I understand. I get it. I understand you miss Fred and you weren't in the mood to celebrate Christmas. And I know I work here, and I'm expected to do what I did last week, with no questions, but bloody hell, George! I busted my arse almost non-stop for days! I did my job and yours! And you just strolled into the kitchen, announced you were coming in, and didn't even bother to say thank you!'

George looked up from the sales records from the past several days. 'You really did a bang-up job.'

'Of course, I did!' Ron snarled. 'What did you think I was going to do? Let it all go to sixes and sevens because you weren't around?' he added indignantly.

'Well, no. But we don't have to do anything but make what products we're out of or low on. The front looks great, and we just have to change the window.' He went into the back room and set a cauldron on the scarred table. Ron followed him, still seething. 'I'm sorry, Ron,' George told the assorted ingredients in front of him. 'I'm trying... I really am. '

'Yeah. I know.'

'Thank you,' George said sincerely. 'For keeping it going.'

Ron didn't say anything. His lips pressed together and he nodded once, then grabbed another cauldron. 'Right...' he sighed. 'We're completely out of Daydream Charms.'

*****

The Leaky Cauldron was packed to the rafters. Harry kept a tight grip on Ginny's hand, as they followed George through the throng of revelers. He felt someone's hand familiarly pat his bum, and he turned around to glare at Ginny, but the hand that he wasn't holding was held tightly by Ron, who in turn, towed Hermione through the crowd. 'What?' she yelled over the din of music and conversation around them.

Harry's eyes darted around the room. 'Nothing...' He shook his head and lunged to catch up to George, already at the entrance to a private parlor, showing his invitation to a burly wizard, standing outside the door.

Lee's party occupied four of the private parlors on the first floor of the pub. Somehow, seemingly solid walls had been removed between them to create one large room. Once through the doors, the cacophony from downstairs was replaced by that of Lee's raucous radio program. 'Whew!' Ron breathed. 'Thought we'd never get up here.'

'Let's find a table,' Harry shouted. Milling about in the midst of so many people made him uneasy.

'There's one in the corner,' Hermione said loudly, pointing to a tiny scrap of a table whose appeal lay in the four chairs that surrounded it. They began to wend their way through clusters of people holding drinks and plates of finger foods. They wriggled around a few occupied tables set too close to each other and finally managed to reach the empty table. 'No wonder it's not been taken,' Hermione gasped, pulling her cloak off her shoulders and draping it over the chair.

'How on earth are we going to manage drinks or anything without spilling it down someone?' Ron asked.

Ginny grinned and held up Hermione's beaded handbag. 'We thought it might be a bit crowded.'

'Brilliant!' Ron exclaimed. 'What've you got in there?'

'Butterbeers, sandwiches, some fruit...' Ginny opened the clasp, peering inside. 'Oh, and Mum made some fudge...'

'At least we won't starve.' Ron settled on the spindly chair gingerly. It rocked precariously under his body.

Ginny shrugged her cloak off and set the handbag in the middle of the table. Harry's eyes widened appreciatively at the dress she wore underneath the cloak. Not for the first time, he wondered if she could read his mind. It was as if she had pulled a dress from his dreams. Gleaming black satin skimmed the curves of her body, making his mouth go dry. He blindly reached into the handbag, groping for a bottle of butterbeer. 'Where did George go?' Ginny wondered.

Ron scanned the crowd until he found George on the other side of the room, sitting with Katie. 'There,' he told her. He grabbed Hermione's hand and tugged her to a space that had been designated for dancing. Ron wasn't exactly graceful, but it was obvious he enjoyed dancing with Hermione, oblivious to the amused looks others sent his way.

Harry looked at Ginny in apprehension. 'Do you want to...?' He gestured toward the dancers with the butterbeer.

'Absolutely!'

'I'm not very good at dancing,' Harry warned.

'Luckily for you, I am,' Ginny stated with a broad smile. 'And this is nothing like that formal rubbish we had to do at the Yule Ball. You just sort of move with the music.' She picked up the handbag and slid it into a pocket of her cloak. 'Come on.' She dragged Harry to the dance floor, near Ron and Hermione, and began to energetically gyrate to the pulsing beat of the music playing. The song abruptly changed to something with a slower tempo, much to Harry's relief. He wrapped his arms around Ginny, pulling her close.

'Thank Merlin,' he murmured. 'Something I can dance to...'

'People are looking at you,' Ginny said into his ear. 'Well. Women are.'

'You're mental,' Harry told her. 'They're looking at you.' He felt a sharp pinch on his bottom and stiffened. 'I don't mind if you do that,' he told Ginny. 'But do you have to do it in public?'

'Do what?' Ginny pulled away slightly so she could look at him.

'Pinch me.' Harry flapped a hand near his hip.

'I didn't pinch you.'

Harry's face clouded. 'Well, if you didn't, then who did?' he demanded.

Ginny glanced around the dance floor. 'Offhand, I'd say that woman over there.' She gestured with her chin toward a woman who appeared to be twice Harry's age. 'The one that looks like a cat licking cream off its whiskers.'

'Bloody hell,' Harry breathed.

'You don't see it at all, do you?' Ginny chuckled, amused.

'See what?' Harry asked, perplexed.

'You're not unfortunate looking,' Ginny said, tucking her head under his chin. 'For all the messy hair, which does happen to suit you, strangely enough, odd collection of scars... It's the eyes. They're beautiful.' Ginny blushed in the dim light. 'And you're completely unaware of how handsome you really are.'

'Oh, stop it,' Harry chided, feeling his cheeks burn. 'You ought to have your eyes examined...' Ginny felt him stiffen again and craned her head around Harry's shoulder, glaring beadily at the witch behind Harry.

'Do you mind?' Ginny asked menacingly.

Startled, Harry looked over his shoulder at a witch he vaguely remembered from school. She'd been a Hufflepuff prefect his first year. She smiled at Harry in what she clearly thought was a beguiling manner. He grimaced and maneuvered so that his back was in a corner. 'If you'll excuse us,' he said politely to the witch and buried his nose in Ginny's hair.

'D'you want to go?' Ginny asked.

'Not at all. I'm leaving on Monday as it is. And I won't get any odd looks for spending hours wrapped around you like this.'

*****

Ron and Hermione swayed to the music, barely moving at all. 'Are you staying tonight?' Ron asked.

'I was thinking about it,' Hermione said.

'Maybe I can talk Harry into sleeping in Bill's room,' Ron mused.

'We could gang up on him,' suggested Ron.

'We could.'

'I could offer to make treacle tart for him,' Ron added.

'So we're reduced to using bribery now, eh?'

'No, not bribery,' Ron corrected. 'Incentives.'

'Fred would be so proud,' Hermione snorted. 'You've found new ways to make bribery sound like you're merely giving someone a gift.' She froze with a soft gasp. 'Oh... I'm sorry. That was thoughtless.'

Ron shook his head. 'You're right. He'd be thrilled.' His arm snaked around Hermione's waist. 'So, have you decided what to do for your Ancient Runes project?'

'I'm going to do the book.' Hermione grinned a little. 'And if Professor Babbling chooses my translation for publication, I'm going to remember I am of age and can tell Dumbledore if he won't keep Harry out of the commentary, then I refuse to allow it to be published.'

'Good for you,' Ron said. 'It's about time you figured out how to rebel every now and then.'

Hermione winced in pain. 'Ouch...'

Ron suddenly stopped, stricken. 'Oh, sorry... Bloody hell... Did I step on your toes?'

'No, no. That's the fifth time someone's pinched Harry's bottom.'

Ron turned his head and frowned. 'I wouldn't want to be the next witch that lays a hand on him. Ginny's likely to hex her, judging by the expression on her face.' He turned back to Hermione and brushed a lock of hair from her face. 'So what do you think you want to do after you're done with school?'

'Well, I haven't given up on S.P.E.W.,' she said. 'And if I join the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, I can start there,' Hermione blurted passionately. 'I can try to make werewolves classified as beings and make it so they can actually live in society. Be a liaison between humans and centaurs and goblins,' she added in a rush.

'You don't want much, do you?' Ron murmured.

'It's going to take years,' Hermione admitted.

The music changed into something more frenetic, but neither of them noticed. 'I was thinking that I might ask George if I can move into the flat sometime soon,' Ron said suddenly.

'With the way you do laundry?' Hermione snorted.

'At least we know I won't go hungry,' Ron said with a shrug. 'Who cares if my socks are pink? If I cock it up too many times, Mum'll just insist I bring it home.' He kissed her gently. 'I'm a big boy, hen. I can take care of myself.'

*****

George sat next to Katie, nervously rolling a butterbeer bottle between his palms. 'Isn't...' He gulped painfully. 'Summerby... coming?'

'He's supposed to,' Katie huffed.

'What time was he to pick you up?'

'He was supposed to meet me here,' Katie said evenly, picking at the label of her butterbeer.

'How late is he?'

Katie sighed and glanced at her watch. 'Two hours...'

George's lips clamped shut before he could make a snide comment. He took a long pull of his drink and set the bottle down on the small table. 'Hasn't got any manners,' he grumbled. 'No consideration for you at all...'

Katie slammed her bottle down on the table. 'Why do you care so much?' she snapped.

'I don't,' George said shortly.

'Then why are you sitting here telling me how bad his manners are?'

George pinched a corner of the label on his bottle between his thumbnail and forefinger. 'Can you honestly tell me you're happy?' he asked in a low voice.

'That's none of your business,' Katie muttered.

'It is, too!' George protested. 'Since you tell me everything as it is.'

Katie sat still for so long; George began to think he had gone too far. When she finally spoke, George had to lean closer to hear her. 'I don't need you to take care of me,' she stated flatly.

George snorted with disbelief. 'Someone has to,' he said hotly. 'Since you're letting him walk all over you.'

'I'm not "letting" him do anything.' Katie took a swig of her butterbeer.

George began to twist in his chair looking exaggeratedly around the room. 'Is he here? Has he sent word that he'll be late or not coming at all? He's got you sitting here, cooling your heels, waiting, because he knows he can!' George snarled accusingly.

'Why does it matter to you?' Katie retorted, her face inches from George's.

'Because I love you!' George shouted furiously into one of those sudden yawning silences that occur at parties when the music stopping coincides neatly with a lull in conversation.

At their table in the corner Ron leaned closer to Harry. 'Didn't see that one coming...' he muttered. 'Did you...?'

Harry shook his head. 'No...'

George's ear reddened as he realized the entire room had fallen silent, every eye focused on him and Katie. He slid out of his chair, and stumbled from the room. Katie stayed at the table keeping her eyes fixed on the bottle in her hands, until a buzz arose around her, signaling the others had resumed their conversations.

'Let's go after him,' Ginny whispered.

'Yeah...' Ron draped Hermione's cloak over her shoulders and began to laborious process to reach the door.

'He could be anywhere,' Hermione fretted. 'Especially if he's Apparated.'

'Check the shop first,' Harry advised. 'If he's not there...'

'Then we'll just go home,' Ginny finished.

*****

As the private parlor began to empty of its guests, Katie pushed her chair back and wound her way toward the entrance to Diagon Alley. She tapped the bricks with her wand and slipped through the gap in the wall and slowly walked toward her flat. The entire evening had been something of a disaster. Martin never showed up. Katie would have dearly loved to have Angelina with her, but she had returned to Toronto last weekend. Katie missed Angelina terribly. Especially when George is being a wanker, she thought sourly. What on earth possessed him to shout that out like that in the pub?

Katie tapped her wand on the door to her building and the door swung open slightly. She pushed the door open and began to trudge up the stairs to her flat. She just wanted to get out of the lovely, new dress she'd bought for the evening, put on her comfortable pajamas, and eat the large bar of Honeydukes chocolate her grandmother had sent for Christmas. The sight of George slumped on the floor next to her door made her stop in surprise. 'How long have you been here?'

George tilted his watch inward. 'Two hours,' he said hoarsely. He got to his feet, sliding up the wall. 'I came to apologize.'

'For what?' Katie asked tartly. 'For humiliating me in front of the entire pub, or for helping to ruin my evening?'

'Both,' George said quietly.

Katie exhaled heavily through her nose and opened the door of her flat. It almost closed before she yanked it open once more and glared at George. 'Are you coming in or what? The least I can do is give you some coffee or something before you go home.'

'Are you going to keep shouting at me?' George retorted. Katie shook her head, and held the door open wider. George hesitated for a moment, then edged past Katie into the flat. She closed the door with a lot less force than George had predicted and gestured toward the small sofa by the window.

'Have a seat. I'm just going to change out of this...'

'Why?' George was startled. 'You look great. Quite lovely, actually.' He could feel his ear begin to burn anew.

Katie looked down at the pale blue dress, shimmering in the light from the lamp next to the sofa. 'Well, it's not exactly made for lounging, is it?'

'I suppose not...' George's eyes darkened as his gaze slowly swept from the sparkly silver varnish on Katie's toes and dark red strappy heeled shoes to the upswept cascade of honey-colored curls on her head. 'God, what a wanker to have stood you up.' George could feel the raw, naked longing on his face, and for the first time, made no effort to hide it.

Katie kicked off the shoes and sank to the sofa next to George, tucking her feet under her. She reached up and tugged the pins from her hair, shaking the curls free, letting them tumble to her shoulders, feeling some of the tension dissipate. 'How long?' she asked without preamble, Summoning the chocolate bar from the kitchen table. She caught it deftly and peeled the wrapper back, offering the chocolate to George.

George's mouth opened and he tried to answer Katie several times before managing to choke out, 'A while.' He took a piece of chocolate to cover his clumsiness.

Katie broke a corner off the bar and began to nibble it. 'Define "a while".'

George felt his face erupt in flames. He was certain Katie could feel it. 'Right before I left school,' he admitted in a low voice. 'I came to see you every day when you were in the hospital.'

Katie blinked a few times. 'That was you?' she blurted.

'I thought you were unconscious,' George muttered.

'I was,' Katie insisted. 'But I could hear someone talking to me. I thought I was dreaming.'

George closed his eyes, painfully aware tears of embarrassment clung to his lashes. 'I read to you. I nicked a book of Muggle fairy tales Dad got for Ginny when she was five from her room at home. I read one every day until I finished the book. And one day, I was walking through Muggle London, and found this tiny, dusty book shop, manned by this old bird who knew more about literature and poetry than anyone ought to.' George swallowed hard and crammed the bit of chocolate into his mouth. 'She asked what I was looking for and I told her about you. And after several minutes of poking through the shelves and muttering to herself, she hands me this book of poetry by some Yank I've never heard of, even though there are enough books crammed into every nook and cranny of the Burrow to make a lending library.' He sighed and covered his eyes with his hand. 'After you'd recovered, I sent it to you for your birthday.'

Katie unfolded herself from the sofa and stumbled into her bedroom, reappearing a moment later with the slim volume, bound in dark blue leather. She cradled it between her hands, unconsciously stroking the soft leather with her thumbs. 'I wondered...' she began uncertainly. 'When I read some of this. It's very...' She paused searching for the right word. 'Sensual,' she finished. Katie took a step toward the sofa. 'Three years?' she asked incredulously. 'Why didn't you say something?'

George rubbed the right side of his head, fingers tracing the hole under his hair. 'I didn't know how to say it. I'm not very good with words. Fred was the one who could charm a bowtruckle from its tree. And I didn't think you could... feel...' He abruptly rose from the sofa and headed for the door. He twisted the doorknob, and pulled, but the door didn't budge. He twisted his head around and glared at Katie, who stood with her wand trained on the door. 'Katie, please...' he moaned painfully.

'Please, George,' Katie said softly. 'Stay.' She held the book out to him. 'Read for me...' she said pleadingly.

George reached out and took the book, thumbing through the pages, aware of the harsh sound of his own breathing. He came to a poem he'd read to Katie when she was unconscious. He'd read it so often, he had memorized it and without looking at the page, he began to recite, 'To the garden the world anew ascending, /Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding, /The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, /Curious here behold my resurrection after slumber,/The revolving cycles in their wide sweep having brought me again, /Amorous, mature, all beautiful to me, all wondrous, /My limbs and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for /reasons, most wondrous, /Existing I peer and penetrate still, /Content with the present, content with the past, /By my side or back of me Eve following, /Or in front, and I following her just the same.'

Unable to help himself, George closed the space between them and cupped Katie's face in his free hand. 'I want to stay,' he breathed. 'God help me, I want to stay so badly, but I can't...' His hand dropped away from Katie. 'Not while he's still around,' he said nearly inaudibly. He turned on his heel, and twisted the doorknob, almost relieved when it opened under his hand. He all but ran down the stairs and burst into the street, Apparating to the Burrow, unaware he still held Katie's book in his hands.