A/N: Well, it's two in the morning, I am pretty sick, and very bored. I had a sudden inspiration for this and I had to write it, so here it goes. Personally, I think it was better in concept than it was in writing, but oh well. I know it's short but hey, it's late and I am sick, so gimme a break. Anyways, here. Enjoy!
It was an unusually bright for mid February. The sun shone brightly, unfiltered by the windows of the Burrow. Birds were already whistling and the faint sounds of a waking Ottery St. Catchpole could be heard in the distance. Molly Weasley was bustling around the kitchen as well, despite the wee hours of morning. She wasn't certain why she was so nervous; she knew what her answer would be- had been, but she couldn't help feeling jittery. After all, this was her youngest son…
"Good morning, Mollywobbles," Arthur greeted, kissing her cheek.
"Good morning." Arthur frowned, noting all the signs of Molly's worry: Unnaturally clean surfaces, strong scent of food (more than usual), and his wife's general twitchiness.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "You know they're ready."
Molly looked up at him with a vulnerable look that she rarely showed anyone else. "How do you know?" she asked in a small voice.
Arthur kissed her forehead. "Because the two of you raised him." Molly gave a laugh that was only slightly higher pitched than normal.
"They'll be alright," Arthur affirmed, and Molly nodded.
oooooooooooooooo
Guests began arriving at the Burrow around noon. It had long since become a tradition of spending Sunday afternoons there, in the company of family and friends.
First to arrive was Percy and his fiancé Audrey, arriving precisely on time. Next was Bill, Fleur, a two-year old Victoire, and a two month old Dominique. Then arrived Harry and Ginny, bringing with them a four year old Teddy and his grandmother, Andromeda. Then there was George and Angelina, who had been dating and running the joke shop together since the end of the war. Last, Hermione and Ron tumbled out of the fireplace, both wearing a lot of soot and a large smile (Charlie was in Romania).
Molly immediately spotted the small ring on Hermione's hand and had to physically restrain herself from jumping on them about it. She couldn't hide the huge grin that settled on her face, though, and couldn't be bothered to try to.
She nudged Arthur beside her and jerked her head in the direction of the girl's hand. He smiled, his eyes twinkling, and nodded.
When they all sat down for lunch, Ron and Hermione were arguing in hushed tones. All Molly could catch were a few words that sounded like "not me… can't… laugh… your family"
They were all almost halfway throught lunch before anything could be made from the couples bickering. Ron had just taken a large mouthful of chicken when Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs. He froze in his chewing and she gave him a stern look. Unlike before, everyone seemed to notice rthe exchange, and was watching them.
"Ah 'rosed my," Ron mumbled around his food.
"Say again?" Harry smirked at his friend. Molly got the impression that he already knew what he had attempted to say.
Ron gulped. "I… erm… proposed to Hermione." Molly stopped restraining herself and flung herself at the two of them hugging them fiercely. The boys clapped Ron on the back and the other women all crowded Hermione to see her ring. Molly caught bits of conversation from both groups ("Oh, eet iz so lovely! Where did Ronald find eet?" and "Blimey, mate, just when we thought we'd be waiting forever!"), but didn't really listen to either one. She was overcome with emotion: Her little boy, all grown up.
oooooooooooooooo
Later that night in the sitting room of the Burrow, the commotion of lunch had died down. Ginny was talking animatedly about Quidditch to Angelina and Ron. Andromeda and Fleur were watching fondly as Teddy and Victoire toddled after each other. Bill, Percy, and Audrey were all sitting on the couch together talking quietly, and Harry and George sat just across from Molly and Arthur, talking about the joke shop.
Molly sighed. "Now only Charlie and George are left unengaged."
George looked up. "Hey! I'm not unengaged!"
Molly did a double take. "Excuse me?"
"You're excused," George smirked.
Arthur gave Harry a confused look, but the other man just shrugged, showing he was as bewildered as them.
"What do you mean you're not unengaged?"
George sighed mock-thoughtfully. "Well, un-engaged is the opposite of engaged, so if I am not the opposite of engaged, that means that I am engaged."
"And to who, might I ask?"
George rolled his eyes. "To Pigwideon, mum. Angelina, of course!"
Molly looked taken aback. "You've already proposed to her?"
George really did look thoughtful then. "Good point." He reached into his pocket and chucked something across the room.
"Oy! Angelina!" he yelled across the sitting room. She looked up from her conversation with Ron and Ginny when whatever he had thrown landed in her lap.
"What?"
"Will you marry me?" he called to her as she flipped open the ring box. She looked back at George, considered for a moment and then called back, with a small grin on her face.
"Alright, then."
A/N: Told you it was short. Before anyone says it, I KNOW IT'S FRED WHO SAID THAT IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE! I would have loved to have made this a Fred/Angelina proposal, but seeing as he is dead and I like to keep things canon, that's not possible. Oh well, George rocks too. Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing. I love you all!
~Natalie
