The morning after their great drunken development George woke up with a groan and a soar lower half. Keeping his eyes closed wouldn't be a problem, he could already tell the light was out to kill him. He palmed his eyes and whispered, "Last night was all just a dream. That couldn't have happened. Please let that have been some horrible dream."
"I certainly hope not mate. It would make this morning incredibly awkward."
George rolled over and shoved his face into his pillow as hard as he could. "Please tell me we didn't do what I think we did."
With a grin, Harry poked low on George's body and received a painful grunt. "Sorry, I'm always semi." George preceded to give Harry a bird for thought and slowly slid out of the bed.
"This is going to bruise." With a sigh he kept his eyes closed and searched out his cloths.
"Am I that hard to look at? You'd tell me if I was horribly ugly wouldn't you?" Harry asked him lying across the bed in full glory. Turning around and opening his eyes, George prepared to give Harry the one for. Only to slap his hand over his eyes like he was burned.
"Please cover yourself Harry." Harry sighed and with a small "fine" hopped off the bed, a little too cheerful for someone who was suppose to hang a huge hang over. After hearing the rustling of clothing George peeked open his eyes. Seeing Harry in a pair of long black slacks he sighed happily.
Harry pouted playfully. Going to the door, he took the opening and pinched George's butt. Ignoring George's outraged squeak Harry went out the door closing it. George started putting on his boxers when the door opened a pinch. Harry's head stuck in, making it known he was taking in the full view, "Breakfast will be ready in a couple minutes. Hope your hungry." The door closed again and George watched it carefully. After making sure it wouldn't open again he put the rest of his cloths on, a bit rumbled but still wearable.
George made his way to the kitchen wear Harry was singing loudly, but not too badly.
"Where's the church, who took the steeple?
Religion is in the hands of some crazy-ass people.
Television preachers with bad hair and dimples.
The god's honest truth is it's not that simple.
It's the Buddhist in you, it's the pagan in me!
It's the Muslim in him, she's catholic ain't she?
It's the born again look it's the wasp and the jew,
Tell me what's goin on, I ain't gotta clue."
Leaning against the open door way George watched with a small smile Harry singing and dancing around the kitchen in a frilly pink apron. When Harry turned towards him, George read the apron with a snort, "Only real men wear pink? Now Harry I don't wear pink, but I think I'm a real man." Harry shrugged and continued his strange song and dance.
Breaking off from yelling about relationships he said, "Whatever floats your boat." George shook his head for what seemed like the millionth time since he had met Harry. George took a seat while Harry continued to zoom around the kitchen.
"We're seven years from the millennium
That's a science fiction fact Stanley Kubrick and his buddy Hal
Now don't look that abstract So I'll put on my Bob Marley tape And practice what I preach Get jah lost in the reggae mon
As I walk along the beach
Stay in touch with my insanity really is the only way
It's a jungle out there kiddies
Have a very fruitful day."
Harry set the table. For breakfast that day, the menu was, baked potato and bacon bits, baked beans, and a ham steak. "Harry, has anyone told you your starkers?" George asked.
Harry nodded his head vigorously, "And each time they say it, I blush from the compliment." Sitting down to his own meal Harry started working on the potato and the ham steak. He looked up from his food when he noticed that George hadn't touched his. "George why aren't you eating?"
George said nothing but started eating. A comfortable silence took over them, only broken by Harry humming the same song.
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"Come on."
"I'm not going."
"You have to come."
"I refuse. You cant make me. That's suicide for sure."
Harry sighed. George still refused to go see his mother. He had been trying to get the red head to go for the better part of the day, they had already waited out a week. Sitting down next to George he snuggled in. "I'll be right there with you. I promise."
When George spoke it came out in a scared whisper. "Promise?" In Harry's mind eye, he saw George as a small little boy. He had just done something horrible, like breaking his mothers favorite vase. And now he had to go tell his mother that he did it. Nodding Harry held George even closer running soothing circles over his lovers back.
Lifting George's chin up gently Harry looked deep into his eyes. "I will never leave you. Never. I love you." George's eyes lit up. He lunged forward and captured Harry's lips in a searing kiss. Harry kissed back with as much or more vigor. Soon their cloths had been discarded to the floor, George had gotten his cloths from his apartment, now living with Harry.
The next grey morning found George and Harry standing outside The Burrow. "You ready love?" Harry brought George's hand and gave it a gentle loving kiss. George took a deep breathe, "I think so." Harry slowly pulled him up to the steps of the house. Knocking on the door, they entered.
Sweet smells instantly filled their senses. Following their noses, George and Harry made their way to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was there overseeing the magical cooking of a thousand and one dishes. Turning around, her eyes hardened at the sight of the two boys. In a strained voice she said, "George, Harry. What a-" she took a hasty gulp, "What a lovely surprise. Please come, sit."
Harry gave George a small smile and tugged him towards the table where three steaming mugs sat. When they were all finally seated Harry smiled broadly at Mrs. Weasley. "Mrs. Weasley, you don't know how hard it was to get George here. He was convinced you'd hate him! That can't be possible, after all blood is thicker than tea, or however that saying goes."
George smiled faintly hearing Harry's attempt at the phrase. Gathering his courage George brought his head up to look at his mother. Her eyes were trained on her mug, which was held in white knuckled hands. Immediately he put his head back down. This was a mistake. She would never except them. Too much dishonor on the family.
"I'm afraid George was right Harry. I could never give my approval of something so vial. What you're doing is a sin. A horrible dirty sin, and I refuse to be a part of it." Harry interrupted Mrs. Weasley's tirade. "Mrs. Weasley! George is your son." His voice held some desperate undertone. "I have no son. None by the name of George." All their hearts stopped when this was said. George couldn't handle the rejection and ran from the room in tears. The two still remaining at the table held their breathe as the door slammed.
"I can't believe you. You who used to make me feel so excepted. Ya, you excepted me until I became different than the perfect person you had in mind. George is the greatest son in the world. He had been living miserably for years with this secret. Dated girls, just to make you happy! And this is how you repay him? He's not the sin Mrs. Weasley. You are."
With those final words he swept from the house leaving a sobbing woman in her wake. She could now see just why he was able to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry was powerful. More powerful than anything she could have imagined. Not only that. But he had love. He truly and dearly loved her son.
Harry apparated back to his apartment to find George's crumpled form in his room- no their room. Gathering George into his arms Harry gave him a long kiss filled with all the love in him. That night they made slow love, whispering undying vows of love. And by the next morning the apartment was empty. They would never again return in England.