George & Annie: an Unofficial Biography

Chapter 50: Surprise

December 25, 2007

Age 29

Annie sat in a chair before her grand fireplace and twinkling, fairy-lit Christmas tree, her back to the large window wall. George's head was in her lap - he was sitting on the floor at her feet - and she was absentmindedly stroking his hair, staring at the magically enlarged and animated picture she had taken of a Tahitian sunset that hung on the wall.

It was early Christmas afternoon. The family had just finished eating an enormous potluck dinner, for it was impossible now to cook an entire meal for the extended Weasley clan in any one kitchen. A large tribe of children clad in new-this-morning-yet-already-messy jumpers, ranging in age from nine years to newly-walking, were running through her house; weaving through the furniture, crashing into each other, going up and down the stairs, in and out of the second floor bedrooms. Fueled by an overdose of sweets and holiday adrenaline, they were eagerly sharing and showing off their latest gifts. Annie suspected far more of the latter than the former was occurring; a judgment based on her now rather extensive knowledge of the general nature of children. These children in particular, she mused with a smile.

The parents of said children could easily be identified. They were the bleary-eyed ones sunken into the other seats surrounding her, leaning against furniture or each other for support, too exhausted to sustain any meaningful conversation. Every one of them had been awakened well before dawn by frenzied children who could no longer contain their anticipation. The only adult noise came from Grandpa Arthur, seated in the chair directly across from Annie, who had begun to snore a bit.

One little green-eyed boy toddled through the nest of immobilized parents, nearly tripping over George's leg.

"C'mere, snotface," George said, digging into his pocket for a tissue.

"Dat's not bery dnice, Ukle Dgordge," the child with the runny nose whined even as he obeyed.

"Neither is what's drippin' from your nose, kid," George argued, holding the tissue in place. "Blow," he commanded.

The little boy did as he was told.

"Where the hell are your parents, anyway?" George muttered as he cleaned the last bit of mucus from his nephew's face.

"Righ' dere," he said, pointing at the sofa next to where George was sitting.

"Go give this to them, then, with my complements," he instructed, placing the used tissue in the grubby, moist little hand.

Without moving from his spot, the little boy tossed it at his father, seated approximately four feet away from George. It bounced off his face and landed on his lap.

"Thanks, James," Harry muttered as his son ran away, giggling.

"Where's the other one... what's his name again... Albus, is it?" asked Ginny with a yawn.

Harry, who was seated on the floor like George, glanced around. "I think I hear him on the stairs with Rose," he answered, lifting his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"And you don't see a potential problem with that?" she asked sarcastically, scratching her pregnant stomach. Albus and Rose were the newly-walking members of the clan, apparently busy practicing their step-climbing skills together.

"Not really, no," he replied with a yawn.

"I suppose he would just bounce his way down, wouldn't he?" she sighed, pulling her long hair back away from her face with her fingers and then holding the makeshift ponytail there with her fist.

"Most likely your Mum would catch him," he muttered sleepily. "Er... Ron...?"

"Hmm?" Ron answered, also from the floor, startled out of a semi-sleeping state. Hermione, sitting behind him, was curled up on the sofa, staring vacantly into the fire.

"Hugo's got a mouthful," Harry warned his best friend and brother-in-law, apathetically pointing at the baby propped up between Ron's legs.

"Oh, crap. Thanks, Harry," he mumbled, fishing a gooey mess of wet wrapping paper out of his infant son's mouth. Hugo had been happily shredding a large piece of it into bits, and apparently shoving them all in his mouth. "Yech," Ron complained, looking around for a place to dispose of the mess.

"Do not attempt to hide that under my furniture, Ron," Annie warned him, anticipating his next move.

"I wasn't!" he argued, but flushing red with the knowledge Annie had just read his mind.

"Just pitch it into the fire, git," said George, giving his brother a small shove with his foot from across the floor.

Ron flung the pasty gob into the fire, and they all spent the next quiet minute listening to it hiss.

Annie casually looked over toward the dining table, where Molly, Charlie, Sasha, Percy, Audrey, Angelina and Lee were seated, visiting quietly. Angelina checked her watch, then looked pointedly at Molly, who nodded in understanding. The two of them then looked at Annie, smiling.

Annie smiled back. That was the signal she had been told to expect.

Angelina had broached the idea with Annie nearly a month ago. "Look," she had explained, "we all want to do something for the two of you on your tenth anniversary, but since you have the only place big enough to hold everyone, and most of us will all be at your house that day anyway, we've got to work with one of you. So, how would you like to throw a surprise party for George, and pretend to be surprised yourself?"

Annie had been tickled and touched that they had thought to even try something so ambitious. She agreed to help her friend, with the stipulation that they would not go to any great effort and keep the thing small.

"Sure, sure," Angelina had agreed, dismissing her concerns with a wave.

Molly cleared her throat. "George, dear... would you mind popping over to the Burrow to fetch my knitting? I seem to have forgotten it," she said, according to plan.

Annie glanced down at her husband to watch his reaction. Counting on his practically guaranteed reluctance, she had already planned an argument to convince him to come with her, but that would have to be quietly whispered in his ear.

But to her surprise, he didn't complain or argue with his mother's request. Her especially cunning plan would not have to be put in effect, after all. She was rather put out by this, in fact.

"Sure, Mum," he replied cooperatively - almost as if he was expecting it, himself. The hairs on the back of Annie's neck stood up as suspicion began to nag the edge of her brain. Had someone let the secret slip? If so, and he knew what was coming, she knew him better than to expect anything less than outright sabotage.

But maybe she was just being paranoid....

"I want the blue merino wool. Take Annie with you, dear. She knows the one I mean," Molly suggested, barely sounding scripted. The plan relied on Annie going with George, keeping him occupied for a bit, then delivering him to the appropriate place at the right time for the party.

Annie considered for a moment the tempting idea of being uncooperative herself, just to see their reactions. But she dutifully stood up, was helped into her coat by her husband, and then followed him to the door instead.

"Mind if we just walk?" they both said at the same time as they stepped outside. Both of them then smiled and laughed. George took her hand and they began walking across the meadow along the little trail that led between Mole Hill and the Burrow.

"I think this morning was a success, don't you?" she said, making small talk as she silently rehearsed her next lines for after they had arrived at the Burrow.

"As long as the goal was spoiling everyone rotten," he scolded her.

Annie knew he was joking. George was the one who always had difficulty reining himself in at the toy stores, both muggle and magical, when they went shopping for their children's gifts every year. Every mechanical and electrical toy in London made his eyes light up and his fingers twitch to try them out for himself. Annie was the one responsible for setting limits, and he relied on her to make him hold to them. It was never an easy task, either. He was forever trying to cheat. It never failed that on Christmas morning, there were always a few "surprise" presents she had not seen before, waiting for the children.

They walked along in comfortable silence for another minute, while Annie's thoughts wandered. Neither one of them had mentioned their anniversary to each other today. At first, Annie had been grateful for the fact that it had seemed to slip his mind, for she was afraid if he brought it up, her face would be a dead giveaway that something was afoot. After being together for so many years now, it was extremely difficult for her to successfully keep something from him for very long.

However, as the day had passed, his apparent forgetfulness had begun to become suspicious in and of itself. Either he really did forget, in which case she would be royally pissed off, or (more likely, she reckoned) he remembered and wasn't mentioning it on purpose. After all, what idiot, even a male one, forgets his wedding anniversary when it falls on Christmas Day?

And if he wasn't mentioning it on purpose, what was he up to?

Annie examined her husband carefully. His face was blank, eyes staring straight ahead, lips lightly pressed together. It was too much of... nothing... for George. He was usually far more animated than this.

"George?"

"Hmm?" he answered, purposefully looking straight ahead.

"Oh - nothing," she said, now completely convinced he was up to something. Too many little coincidences: the forgetfulness, the cooperation; and now, he was avoiding eye contact...?

"What?" he asked again, this time glancing at her from out of the corner of his eye, working to keep his face expressionless.

"Nothing, really," she assured him, purposefully sounding fake. Maybe she could sweat it out of him. "Let's hurry... I'm cold," she said, picking up her pace, testing for a reaction.

"Oh, er..." he mumbled. She took a perverse delight in watching him mentally scramble, pulling back on her arm slightly. "Here... I'll warm you up," he offered, brusquely pulling her closer and rubbing her arm with his free hand. He made no move to quicken his pace. In fact, Annie suspected the opposite: he was dragging his feet.

What was going on?

Then he checked his watch.

A light was beginning to dawn in Annie's mind. More than one plan was afoot today; that was now blatantly obvious. All right, she thought. I'll play along... for now.

They finally reached the back door of the Burrow a few minutes later. George could no longer suppress a smug, I-know-something-you-don't-know smile. Annie began to suspect she had not in fact been involved in planning a surprise party after all. Rather that the opposite was true: she had been duped. She strongly suspected something unpleasant was waiting for her on the other side of that door. Well, if they think they can pull one over on me, they have another think coming....

"Ready?" he asked, smiling broadly, eyes twinkling.

Ready? Annie shook her head, fully confident she understood what was going on. Instead, she gazed at her husband with her best attempt at come-hither eyes, and summoned a sultry voice in the chilly wind. "George... I'm still cold," she said, taking his hands and beginning to lead him a few steps away from the door.

"What?!" he said, alarmed by her odd reaction. "It'll be warm inside," he argued, nodding toward the door but allowing her to pull him along all the same.

"Come warm me up... the right way, this time," she cooed, smiling wickedly, pulling him a few more steps further from the door.

"R-right now?" he asked, his voice nearly breaking in surprise. He planted his feet, weighing his options.

Annie nearly blew it by laughing out loud at the bewildered look on poor George's face. He was utterly torn; he apparently thought that it was rather important for him to deliver Annie to the Burrow at this, the appointed time. Yet here she was, tempting him with... well... an invitation to something he rarely, if ever, said no to.

"Annie... we should go in... to get the yarn, you know..." he said, his resolve beginning to weaken as she kissed his neck and earlobe, attempting to sway him. He was not putting up much physical resistance, however. In fact, he was pulling her closer to him, holding her tightly.

"What's the rush? They'll never know...." She pulled his mouth down to hers and let loose her most passionate kiss. She began to cast her mind about for a place out of the cold wind that they could actually escape to, if she was about to be as successful as she thought....

"Actually, they probably suspect it already," he said, chuckling when they came up for air. "C'mon, before you embarrass yourself any further," he teased, thinking he was being cryptic, lifting her up and carrying her back to the door. "Trust me... you'll thank me later," he said, setting her down and taking her hand firmly in his, then reaching for the doorknob.

"Don't!" Annie cried, cringing as the door flew open.

"Ta da!" he yelled at the same time.

Silence greeted them.

"Huh?" George grunted, poked his head inside, then dragged her into the kitchen behind him. "What the hell?" he mumbled softly, dropping her hand and dashing through the ground level rooms, looking frantically for something. A look of profound confusion was on his face.

"Were you expecting something?" Annie asked, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the sink. She was beginning to be impressed by the rather complicated ruse playing out before them.

"Er... well..." he stammered, trying to cover for whatever mistake he had just made. That is, until he turned to look at his wife, who was biting her lip to keep from laughing, but burst out giggling anyway.

"What's so funny?" he asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Who told you there was a surprise party here today?" she asked.

George looked momentarily stunned, then the light began to come on for him as well. "Lee is a dead man. Who told you, as if I had to ask?"

"Yep," she said, confirming his guess that the Jordans were in on it together. "They've been playing us against each other," Annie said with a smirk.

"Where are you supposed to deliver me?"

"To the school building. I'm supposed to say there's something in the fridge I forgot to throw out."

"The school?" he asked, incredulous. Then he shuddered, pondering the thought of a celebration held in a building he tried to avoid as much as possible just on principle. It was a school, after all, and he was George Friggin' Weasley. "Eww."

"I know. I told her it was a bad idea, but she insisted. Now I see why - it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

George's brow furrowed. "You don't think that's were it really is?"

Annie shrugged but shook her head. "We could just blow them off entirely..." she said, lacing her arms around his neck.

George laughed. "Tempting, yes. But wouldn't you rather get a little revenge?"

"I'm listening...."

*

After George made himself invisible with a disillusionment charm, he apparated just outside the school building. He crept over to a large window and peeked in. It was empty. Big surprise, he thought.

Next, he crept over to his house, careful to remain unseen. Sure enough, an even bigger crowd of their family and friends - who had not been there when they had left fifteen minutes ago - were amassed there now. Angelina Jordan was standing on a chair, shouting and pointing, explaining the plan to everyone gathered.

"You were right," he said as he re-appeared in the Burrow's kitchen. "They're all at the house. They think we'll be coming in the back door, from the school." He had overheard Angelina shouting to the group their instructions, expecting them at any minute now. That would be the direction everyone would be facing from their hiding places.

"All right then - let's teach them a lesson," Annie said, beaming with anticipation.

"This is going to be brilliant," said George softly, a wicked smile gracing his features. He reached out for her hand.

"Happy anniversary, George," she said, barely above a whisper, smiling at him lovingly.

"Happy anniversary, love," he replied in kind, kissing her hand.

George cast another disillusionment charm over the both of them, then they apparated back into their home into the small gap between the Christmas tree and the fireplace, out of sight. He was slightly surprised to find it was still so easy to do, even though they hadn't done it together in nearly a decade.

"Do you see them yet, Harry?" Angelina whispered loudly from where she was crouched behind the dining table.

"Nah, nothin' yet," he replied softly, peering out the back door window.

Keeping silent, behind everyone's backs, George let the invisibility charm fade away. Holding Annie's hand, they crept up together behind Ron and Hermione, who were hiding behind one of the large leather chairs.

"What's taking them so long?" whispered George into Ron's ear. Annie bit her finger to keep from laughing and giving them away.

"You know George and Annie. Whenever those two get a minute alone... pfft!" whispered Ron, straining to peek over the chair and not even looking at who was speaking to him.

"Who?" George asked.

"You know; the guests of honor?" Ron said testily. "George and AAARRGH!" he screamed, jumping up in shock and falling backwards just as he finally turned to look at the person whispering such a stupid question to him. He lay there on the floor, clutching his chest, staring back at his brother.

"Shut up, Ron!" Forty very visible people who thought they were hidden turned around and hissed at him.

"SURPRISE!" George and Annie screamed as they jumped up from behind the chair. Hermione screeched in shock on the floor next to them.

"SURPRISE!" echoed thirteen children as they leaped up from behind the balcony. It was the signal they had been told to wait for. They jumped and cheered for themselves, considering it a job well done.

Forty adults, all folded in half in an attempt to hide themselves behind furniture, stairs, and kitchen counters, stared up at the happy couple with slack jaws and wide eyes.

"Son of a bitch!" cried Lee softly, smacking the floor with his fist.

"You rotten little shits," mumbled Angelina, shaking her head slowly in disgust.

Another moment passed. The children, wondering why they were the only ones cheering, fell quiet in their confusion.

"Any minute now, you're going to realize how completely hilarious this is," George explained to the group.

Slowly, everyone began to stand up and stretch their cramped muscles. A few people began to chuckle.

"Come on!" cried Annie, goading her friends and family. "Don't all be such party poopers!"

A few more people began to laugh.

"Were you surprised, Daddy?" called out Janie from the balcony.

"Absolutely, honey. Everyone was. Well done, all of you!" George replied and began applauding the children. Annie joined him, cheering enthusiastically. Most of the adults joined them in congratulating the children.

The majority of the people in the room were chuckling now, or at least had amused looks on their faces. There were a few grumpy hold-outs - Angelina most notably- but most could appreciate the joke and were being good sports. Especially since they were all in the same boat; being the surprisees rather than the surprisers.

"Pretty stupid of us, trying to put one over on George Weasley," joked their new neighbors, Neville and Hannah Longbottom, who had recently moved into the old Diggory place.

"I told you this was an utter waste of time," Ginny complained from the floor where she was still stuck on all fours.

"Why doesn't anyone ever listen to you?" Harry teased her as he struggled to haul his uncooperative wife up off the floor. Neville reached over to help the two of them.

"Everyone seems to think they know better than me just because they're older," she said loudly. "Ha! You'll all be geezers before me, and who'll be laughing then?" she said, finally righting herself.

"The same whiney little brat who's laughing now?" Charlie chuckled from his seat on a bar stool.

"Too right!" Ginny exclaimed, grinning at her brother.

"You realize you just admitted to being a whiney little brat?" asked Harry.

Ginny blew a raspberry at him and waddled her way toward the kitchen. "Somebody better reward me with some cake, that's all I have to say," she laughed.

"Whose idiotic idea was this, anyway?" teased Lee, nudging Angelina with his shoulder. His wife cracked the slightest of smiles.

"I'm pretty sure it was yours, git," she muttered, nudging him back.

"Let that be a lesson to you, then," he replied. "For Merlin's sake, don't ever listen to me again!"

George and Annie wove their way through the guests, accepting reluctant congratulations and a few shoulders thrown in their way, until they reached the Jordans.

"Sorry, Ange," said Annie, holding out her arms and offering a hug to her dear friend.
"You're an ungrateful cow," mumbled Angelina, refusing to move.

"I know," Annie sympathized. "But you really should have known better...."

"Than to try to do something nice for the likes of you two?!" she exclaimed.

"We don't deserve it!" Annie agreed.

"I ruin everything," George assured her with a smile.

Angelina harrumphed, steadfastly refusing to return the apologetic hugs of Annie and George, still pretending to be put out.

"We'll have to make it up to her somehow, I suppose," Annie said loudly, as if Angelina couldn't hear her.

"How about free babysitting for life?" suggested Lee hopefully.

George ignored his friend. "I know... we ought to throw her a surprise party! I happen to know she adores surprise parties," he gushed jokingly.

"I hate surprise parties!" cried Angelina, laughing. "Never again!"

"Promise?" Annie pleaded.

"Trust me, I've learned my lesson," giggled Angelina.