George & Annie: an Unofficial Biography

Chapter 40: Pastimes

Spring 2000

"Are you awake?" he asked her.

"Of course," she replied.

"Have you thought about it? The thing we talked about?" George asked her in a soft voice, as he held her in his arms in this strange room, in a strange bed, on a tiny island in the South Atlantic.

She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she couldn't see it in the pitch blackness. He must think he was being funny. Had she thought about it, indeed? As if her brain had thought about a single other thing for the past five days. It had barely spared enough neurons from obsessing over the idea to keep her body upright.

She thought back to the night of the conversation he was referring to. They had been in their own bed then, at Mole Hill - unlike now. She had been lying on her back, eyes closed, with what felt like a silly, blissed-out grin across her face: her usual post-coital state. As the nerve synapses of her body slowly regained their composure, and the perspiration cooled her, he had pulled the pin on that particular grenade and lobbed it into her peace of mind.

"I think it's time we had another, don't you?" he had purred into her ear.

"Another what? Another go? Didn't you finish?"

She had been confused, as well as embarrassed at her selfishness. How could she have missed the fact that he hadn't reached the same conclusion she had done only moments ago? She turned toward him, reaching out her arms, eager to remedy the oversight.

"No," he had laughed as he kissed her forehead. "I mean another baby."

Just like that. No warning. Out of the clear blue sky. Kaboom. Her mind had been set to reeling in that moment, and she had idiotically and mutely stared at him in the shock of it.

He had misunderstood her silence. She watched as a mild amount of concern had begun to cloud his features, dampening his smile.

"Don't you still want more?" he had asked her.

As if it was possible not to want more of George's children - little copies of his hair and eyes and face and voice and personality. It was the reason she was put on this earth, after all: to love him, care for him, and bear his children. As pathetically sappy and primitively backward as it sounded, even wordlessly in her own mind, she knew it was true with every fiber of her being. It was blasphemy to pretend otherwise.

"Of course I do!" she had cried in an earnest whisper, and relief washed over her as she saw the smile return to his face in the moonlight that streamed into their room. "You just took me by surprise. I simply haven't thought about it, at all. I mean, we never really planned it, last time."

"That's true," he had chuckled as he remembered the circumstances surrounding the twins' conception. "It was a bolt out of the blue, last time. A happy accident, though," he had mused as he stroked her hair.

She had giggled with him, glad to have a chance to release the tension. "What brought all this on, anyway?"

"Dunno...." George had shrugged. "The boys are getting so big now. They're growing up too fast. Faster than I ever expected. I guess I just assumed that once we started - having kids, I mean - it would just keep happening, sort of like the way we all did in my family. Every couple of years, you know?"

Annie had nodded, considering his argument. She agreed that the twins were maturing quickly - in fact, quite a bit faster than normal. She also thought about George's family, the close-knit ties among all his siblings. She imagined she would like that for their children as well, never having had the chance to experience it herself.

"You think it's still too soon?" he had asked.

"I dunno. Like I said, I haven't given it a moment's thought, honestly. Let me think about it for a bit, okay?" she offered.

"Sure," he had said comfortingly, holding her head in his hand and stroking her cheek with his thumb. "We'll talk more about it later, then."

"Soon," she had promised.

A flash and a simultaneous, ear-splitting crack rent the sky above them, startling her back to the present. George's strong, protective arms held her even more tightly in reassurance.

"The worst of it'll blow through quick enough," he whispered in her ear as large drops of rain began to fall on the roof of the tiny, spare cabin they were renting on the beach.

The beautifully exotic seascape just beyond their door more than made up for the unimpressive interior of the spartan room. Lee and Angelina, who were riding out the squall in the cabin next door, had found this place on their honeymoon last year. Angelina had been right - it was the most romantic spot Annie had ever seen.

"Anyway, back to the original question..." he reminded her as he began softly kissing her.

What was it about electrical storms? she wondered. She had always felt it too, as if the electrical potential in the air somehow affected their bodies as well, demanding a connection be made to release the pent-up energy. She responded to him with enthusiasm.

Another flash, and the rolling thunder that followed was not quite as close as the last, but loud enough to startle her again. And then rain began to pour harder, pounding on the roof and windows. It only served to excite them further, though, as if some primordial part of their brains recognized danger in the cacophony of the storm, and the resultant adrenaline heightened their arousal.

George paused a moment to whisper his intentions into her ear. "I want us to make a baby...."

Annie smiled as she kissed him, then placed her lips to his ear, whispering her answer. "Yes!"

She had come to the same conclusion as George, just a few days later than he had. It was time to bring a new life into their little family.

When she awoke late the next morning, Annie was disappointed to find it misty and overcast. As wonderful as it felt to sleep until her own body woke itself up - instead of when the twins' began calling for her, or with the rising sun shining in through the bedroom window - she would have rather been on the beach at dawn. She had been so looking forward to basking in the sun and warm waters for an entire week with George by her side, as well as their good friends the Jordans.

George had apparently awakened a short while earlier, and was humming while teacups clinked onto saucers.

"How can you be so chipper this dreary morning?" she asked, amused.

"I think it's a perfect day!" he argued. George inexplicably seemed thrilled by the promise of the morning. He was standing in the tiny kitchenette in the far corner of the room, brewing a pot of tea.

She noticed a plate of fruit, bread and cheese was already on the bed, waiting for her. She feasted instead on the sight of him: his strong, lean, athletic body dwarfing the tiny proportions of the miniature kitchen. No one had a right to look that good without their clothes on, she thought, and quickly whispered prayer of thanks to whatever magnificent force had created her husband, for perhaps the millionth time, she reckoned.

"Aren't you worried someone will see you, or have I just missed this exhibitionist streak in you all along?" she asked him teasingly. The curtains of the two windows had been opened to allow as much grey light into the dim room as possible. She sat up in the bed, wrapped the sheet around herself, and held the plate in her lap.

"There's not a soul within miles of us, Annie," he chuckled as he carefully carried two steaming cups over to the bed. For the most part, it was true: the little cabins were shrouded by a large orchard of ancient Dragon's Blood trees, magically hidden from the muggle islanders. He had promised to deliver a large bundle of the fruits for his mother, in exchange for babysitting duties.

"Except for the couple right next door," she corrected him with a smile, accepting the cup he proffered and setting it on the table beside her.

"Who are holed up inside, escaping the rain, same as us," he argued, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking a sip.

"So explain to me how being trapped inside here, on our first holiday alone together, in what was supposed to be a sunny tropical island escape, is a 'perfect day' to your twisted mind." She took a bite of the banana she had been peeling as she spoke for effect.

George laughed into his teacup, a mischievous glint in his eyes as they peered over the rim at her. "I think it's finally my chance for a Naked Day," he explained, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Annie laughed out loud as she fell back onto her pillows. It had been a little pet fantasy of his for about a year now, perhaps arising out of the reality that throughout their entire courtship and marriage, they had never had any significant amount of time alone, just the two of them. There had nearly always been at least one someone else, close enough to see or overhear them, or - even worse - walk in on them. It seemed they were forever doomed to sneaking around, hushing themselves, hiding their intimacy from her Gran, or his family, or more recently, their own children.

George had often lamented this very fact, and cherished aloud with her the notion that the day would come when he and Annie could do whatever they wished, whenever and wherever the thought struck them, without any inhibitions or interruptions. Thus, the dream of Naked Day was born. And any time he found himself frustrated, thwarted by the demands of parenthood and adult life, he would close his eyes, heave a sigh, and whisper, "Naked Day!" as a mantra. It had never failed to make her smile.

"Are you even remotely serious?" Annie laughed. She set the plate of food on the pillow next to her, turning toward him.

"Why not? We're not missing anything outside, that's for sure. It may not be sunny, but it's warm." He crawled across the bed toward her and slowly pulled the sheet off of her body. "I won't let you get chilled...."

He laid himself down beside her, on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. She offered him the banana.

"All day long? You must be kidding," she teased.

"Nope," he replied, popping his lips on the P, then he took a bite. He shook his head slowly, locking his gaze onto her eyes.

"I don't know..." she said with pretend reluctance. He was right - today was sounding more perfect by the second.

"Good luck finding anything to wear," he added with a smirk as he swallowed the bite of fruit.

"George..." she said in a mock warning tone.

She sat up and scanned the room. There was no sign of the small satchel all their belongings had been magically packed into. He laughed as he set the plate of food onto the floor beside the bed.

That had been quite entertaining, actually; watching him stuff all their clothes, food, gear and even surfboards into something the size of a small backpack. "Little trick I picked up from Hermione," he had explained as he did so. Annie had even lifted the bag herself - it had been as lightweight as if it were empty. A backpack bewitched to perform some bizarre folding of spatial dimensions or something, she guessed. Typical wizard's solution to any ordinary problem: simply defy all known laws of physics.

"It's no use, you'll never find it," he said with a smug smile.

She knew he was right. In fact, it was likely staring her in the face, sitting invisibly in plain sight. Or equally likely, she could search the entire room all day long but always have a good reason to look everywhere except exactly where it rested.

"Hmm. I'm not sure I'm quite convinced," she said doubtfully. She had to put up some sort of resistance, or where was the fun? It was so entertaining to watch him maneuver, after all.

"I can be very persuasive, you know," he warned her as he reached out, hooked his arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer. As she lay back onto the bed, he began kissing in a small circle around her navel. All thoughts of the sun, sand or sea were being washed away from her mind. Nothing was left there but love and desire.

"We have important work to continue today, anyway. Remember?" he asked her in a serious tone.

"Are you referring to your latest little home improvement chore?" she teased as she twirled her fingers in his hair.

George looked up at her with his most charming, knee-weakening smile: the one that lit up his eyes especially. "Happy to be of service, as always, for your personal expansion project," and brushed his lips once again against her belly.

Annie sighed in contentment and arousal. George rolled onto his back as he caught her elbow, lifting and guiding her to rest above him. As she straddled his waist, he reached up to hold her head with both hands, then pulled her face down to meet his for a kiss.

They would make love twice more that day - only rarely leaving the bed at all - otherwise dozing or eating or talking quietly together. It was a perfect day, she had to agree: beautiful, relaxing, and precious.

By midday, the mist had moved on, but the low grey clouds remained. Angelina and Lee had knocked on their door then, waking them both from a light sleep.

"Go away!" they had both called out simultaneously in response.

"Well, that was rude!" Angelina complained loudly as Lee laughed. "We were just going to invite you to walk into the village for lunch, but forget it!"

Annie began to slip out of bed, but George grabbed her hand. "Don't break the rules," he warned her in a whisper.

She smiled and nodded, then crept carefully to the door, keeping out of sight of the windows, which were curtained now anyway. "Sorry, Ange," she called out from behind the door. "Just catching up on some sleep, you know. You caught us napping." Technically, it was the truth....

"Yeah, right," laughed Lee, not buying the excuse for a second. "Come on, Angelina. Looks like we're on our own today."

"Just wait.... You'll find out what it's like soon enough - living without a decent night's sleep," George called out from the bed. Lee and Angelina had confided in them last night at dinner that they were expecting a baby themselves this fall.

The parents-to-be chuckled as Annie heard them shuffle off the small porch of their cabin. She tiptoed back to the snug little nest they had created for the day and nibbled on a slice of cheese.

"That's a good point, you know. All that work, the sleepless nights.... Are you sure you're ready for it all again?" she asked.

"Sleep is for the weak," George said in a low voice, wrapping himself around her. "Highly overrated," he continued, kissing the little red dragon on the back of her neck and sending ticklish chills down her spine.

He certainly is being thorough, she laughed silently to herself as the foreplay began once again.

Annie peeked out the window as the sun was setting that evening, searching for the source of the constant buzzing sound she had been hearing during their otherwise quiet afternoon, and saw their two friends frolicking far out to sea. While she and George had been lolling about all that first day, Angelina and Lee had found a place on the island that rented jet skis.

"You're in for fun tomorrow, George. Wait till you see the toys they got," she giggled.

The rest of their week on the island was just what Annie had been dreaming of: sun and beach and warm sea. Something about the ocean - she didn't know whether it was the water, or the sunny breeze, or scent of it - recharged her psyche more the longer she soaked it in. Annie wondered with amusement if perhaps she had been a sea lion in a previous life.

And the days had proved to be fun. It was almost like being children again themselves, she thought. Playing with their toys, cavorting about in the sea. She and Angelina had even built a sand castle, childishly digging and piling the sand, getting themselves filthy in the process. She couldn't remember being that dirty since she had played as a child with her twin playmates, Annie thought with a twinge of sadness.

She reckoned they all deserved it, considering how much of what should have been their carefree teen-age years they had spent in the shadow of a war. They had taken a vacation not just from gloomy winter weather at home, but from all the responsibilities of being grown-ups as well.

About two weeks after they had arrived home and were well settled back into their daily routine of work and the twins, Annie greeted George as he came downstairs on April first, the morning of his twenty-second birthday, with a smile and a kiss. Then she handed him a small pen-shaped piece of plastic - the first of his surprises of the morning - knowing he would demand physical proof on today of all days.

"Mission accomplished, love," she said softly, kissing his cheek as a broad, self-satisfied grin spread across his face, registering the implications of the small pink plus sign. "Happy birthday!"

*

"You should see it. It's unbelievable," Ron raved.

"Sounds really cool, Ron," Harry said to placate his best friend. He wasn't really sure he cared.

But Ron persisted, either ignoring or simply unable to pick up on such subtleties of tone. "Look, nobody else is stupid enough to hang around, wasting the first nice day of the year," Ron said, pausing for a moment as they both glanced around the mostly empty office. "Let's skive off. Maybe George is free, and he can show you."

Harry had to agree about the waste of time. At the moment, it didn't seem as if the wizarding world was in imminent peril, nor would it be likely to miss a couple of junior Aurors for an hour or so. He could see the glorious day beckoning them outside the window. "Okay, let's go."

They took the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, then headed straight to the Wheezes shop. George welcomed them warmly, as usual.

"I brought Harry to see your birthday present. Are you free?" Ron asked his brother.

"Yeah, I was just leaving for lunch anyway. Have you lot eaten? I'm sure Annie would whip up something for you...."

"Don't bother, we ate already," Harry answered.

"Well, there's always room for dessert...." amended Ron.

"How do you not weigh three hundred pounds?" George marveled sarcastically.

"Who says I don't?" Ron boasted as he flexed his arms.

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed at his best friend's bravado.

"So he told you about my birthday present, did he?" George spoke softly under his breath, almost conspiratorially, and paused while Harry nodded. "It's so damn fast... well, maybe not compared to a Firebolt, but for the rest of us mere mortals...."

"Come on, already, let's show him," whined Ron.

"Hang on a sec...." George poked his head through the curtain to the back room and they heard him speak to an employee there. "Verity, I'm off to lunch. When Sam gets back, have him start on last week's orders first, they're piling up. See you in an hour or so."

They all three stepped into the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron at once, and headed to Mole Hill. As they emerged into the large, open living room of George and Annie's house, it became clear that the beautiful sunny day had not been limited to London. Every large window and sliding glass door of the house was open, allowing the sunshine and breezes to pour in.

"Annie?" called George softly, glancing around for sign of his wife. "I've brought the lads!" he announced.

"Over here," she answered quietly.

The twins must be asleep, thought Harry, reminding himself to keep it down. In the next moment, he was startled by George suddenly bolting across the room, once he discovered Annie in the kitchen at the top of a stepladder, reaching above a cabinet.

"Get down this instant!" George insisted as he lifted her off the ladder.

Harry shot Ron a look of amused curiosity, only to see to his surprise Ron was looking slightly concerned as well. He turned back to see George summoning a platter from its storage place high above them.

No explanations were offered, no clues to the odd behavior. Since when was a stepladder something dangerous? Sure, Annie was short, but reaching for a platter was hardly a death-defying activity, even for a muggle....

Annie smirked with amusement at her husband's overreaction. "Hello, boys," she greeted them once her feet reached floor. "Come to nick a ride on the bike, I suppose?"

"Harry wanted to see it," explained Ron. "And then George mentioned something about dessert." He smiled expectantly, ogling the blueberry tart on the table.

Harry noticed there were also a large bowl of salad and two small meat pies on plates waiting for diners, all smelling delicious. Annie had a well-earned reputation within their group for being an excellent cook. Almost as good as Mrs. Weasley.

"Go on then, help yourself," she laughed, waving toward the small dessert plates and forks next to the tart.

George then lifted her up to sit on the counter, bringing her face level with his. He leaned in to press his forehead to Annie's and spoke softly to her. "Are you feeling all right today?" he asked.

Annie nodded slightly, careful not to break the contact. "Not nearly as bad, this time," she replied.

Harry was made uncomfortable by the intimacy of the moment, but was curious all the same. Was something wrong with Annie?

Ron handed him a plate with a huge slice of tart, then coughed in a blatantly artificial way.

George fished into his pocket without looking away from his wife, and tossed Ron a small set of keys. "Not a scratch, mind you, or I'll curse you both," he warned. "Mythical hero status or no."

Ron responded verbally, but no one in the room understood what he was trying to say around the enormous mouthful of tart blocking all intelligible speech.

As they left the house and headed to the garage, curiosity finally got the better of Harry. "What's wrong with Annie?" he asked.

"Oh, right. You wouldn't have heard yet," Ron chuckled. "She's expecting again."

"Really? Already? Wow, er, good for them, I suppose," he said with a surprised smile.

"I know, right?" Ron laughed. "It's like George is taking it seriously, living up to the Weasley reputation for breeding like rabbits."

Harry laughed. "How soon will she.... I mean, when's the baby coming?"

"This winter, I think. They went with Lee and Angelina on their anniversary trip last month.... Sort of the honeymoon they never had, you know? That island vacation must have been really something," Ron joked.

"That's disgusting, Ron! Shut up!" Harry had no desire to pursue that line of conversation. He knew, from considerable personal experience as Ginny's boyfriend, that he was not allowed even the smallest allusion to sex in the presence of any Weasley male, if he did not wish to be pummeled for his trouble. He did, however, stow away the idea of an island honeymoon, for future reference. Maybe he could ask Lee about it....

Finally, they had reached the large outbuilding that served as a garage for Mole Hill. "Here it is. Wicked-looking beast, isn't it?" Ron said reverently.

The shiny, futuristically-styled black and chrome motorcycle was parked inside, looking completely out of place next to a beat-up old farm truck and an only slightly newer, slightly less beat up Toyota Land Cruiser with an amusing bumper sticker that read "My other car is a broom." Two bicycles with baby seats were hanging suspended from the ceiling. Several surfboards and George's old Cleansweep hung on the side wall, and a large, double-seated jogging stroller was parked underneath them. The back wall was lined with shelves, crammed with various objects, about half of which Harry recognized as magical in origin or purpose.

Harry was impressed by the motorcycle. It did look fast - rocket fast, in fact. "Annie bought this for George, for his birthday, you said? Lucky bastard!"

"Yeah. She has an inheritance or something, from when her grandmother died. Ginny and I tease her about being an heiress. She says it's not much, but it must be something. This thing wasn't cheap, I'll wager." He scraped the last bite of tart off the plate and into his mouth. "I don't care if she's a muggle - what that woman can do with pastry is magic," he mumbled.

They put down their dishes on a bench, and Ron eased the motorcycle outdoors. "Grab the helmets, will you?" he asked. "I can drive it all right - George showed me how - but I'd rather not kill us, all the same."

Harry hopped onto the back of the bike once they were geared up, and Ron slowly drove them down the gravel lane to the road, where he opened it up. It was fast, he discovered, as the trees and fields blew past them in a blur. Harry suspected the motorcycle would be quite a bit more fun to drive than it was to be the passenger, but all the same, still felt the Firebolt was superior. He made a mental note to take advantage of the lovely weather later, after work, and take it out for a bit of real flying.

It was more than half an hour later before they returned to the house. All the doors and windows were still open, curtains fluttering like banners in the spring breeze.

"How did George learn to ride it?" Harry asked as they strolled toward the house from the garage.

"Annie showed him, can you believe it?" Ron chuckled. "Said she learned how, as a kid."

"After all that in the kitchen, he let her on that thing?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Are you surprised to learn that George doesn't have the slightest bit of control over his wife?" Ron laughed, and Harry joined him.

They walked right in to the bright, inviting house. George and Annie were seated at the dining table.

"That was really cool, George. Thanks," Harry offered as he and Ron stood by the table.

Ron tossed the keys toward his brother, who caught them midair.

"Precision engineering... isn't that what the muggles call it, Annie?" George nodded slowly, smiling smugly as he chewed.

"A high performance machine, to be sure, love," Annie giggled.

Harry's nearly two years of working in the Auror office had fine-tuned his brain to detect when something didn't fit. That sense was nagging at him just now. Out of habit, he scanned the room, looking for the source.

He found it quickly: the food. He and Ron had been gone for nearly forty minutes by now, yet Annie was filling an unused, clean bowl with salad. George's meal had one, maybe two bites missing, at most.

His eyes scrutinized the pair at the table, and instantly regretted it. Barely flushed cheeks. Slightly tousled hair. Clothes disheveled in the smallest degree. Oh dear God - he was going to need to find a way to turn his suspicious brain off somehow, at least when it wasn't called for.

"You can set those dishes in the sink, Harry," Annie instructed him.

The interruption caused him to break his involuntary stare. He gladly walked away from the table into the kitchen.

Only a few seconds had passed, but Harry was incredibly relieved when Ron made an excuse for them to leave quickly.

"Better get back.... See you around.... Thanks again for the food, Annie - it was delicious, as usual," Ron stammered.

They took the Floo directly back to the Ministry. As they stepped into an empty lift, Ron burst out giggling, and Harry couldn't resist the temptation to join him.

"I can't believe them!" Harry cried.

"Rabbits, I tell you," laughed Ron, shaking his head.