authorsnote: okay, so, this was me playing with the idea that Angelina/George happened prior to
Fred's death. anything you recognize belongs to ms. rowling not me. ou know the drill: read, enjoy,
review. rated for possible later chapters. 3 silvertongue
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"George, I think your brother's drunk," Angelina Johnson observed with a snicker as the two of them helped
each other through the portrait whole and turned to watch the stumbling, giggling entrance of Fred and Alicia.
The group of friends had decided that a bit of celebration was in order before the twins grand exit the following
day, and , having made an escapade to the kitchen, they had spent much of the evening getting drunk in the
room of requirement.
"I do believe you're right, my Angel," George chortled, watching as Alicia helped his twin off of the floor with a giggle.
"I'm not YOUR Angel, Weasley." He was prepared for the glare she added to her snapped statement-- she wasn't
drunk enough to allow him to get away with that comment and he would have been disappointed if she had: compared
to the rest of them, she drank very little, making her by far the least inebriated of the four. George simply had a higher
tolerance for alcohol.
"Sure, Johnson, just like you're never giving me help on my Herbology homework again, and you will never EVER sneak
out past midnight to give me an alibi as long as you live," George pointed out, winking flirtatiously.
Angelina gave a laugh, rolling her eyes as she turned away from him to stop Fred claiming to help Alicia in an attempt to get
his hand down her blouse. Slapping Fred on the back of his hand, Ang pulled her friend's arm around her neck, hauling the
giggling girl to her feet as she attempted to ignore the fact that she could feel George's eyes on her. Or, more importantly, the
effect that his words and looks were having on her. Dropping Alicia onto the couch beside Fred, the tall girl stretched her arms
above her head, glancing around the room. It was dim and empty but for the four of them, who were occupying the area nearest
the dyeing embers of the normally roaring fire.
"Oh, stop looking so motherly, Angie," Fred complained, his arm slung around Alicia's shoulders, "Sit down and let us have some
fun." Angelina found herself rolling her eyes yet again as she followed Fred's directions, perching herself on the arm of George's
chair, even as she told herself that it was a bad idea. Alicia let out another giggle as Fred murmured something in her ear, neither of
them making a secret of the fact that they were both smirking in the direction of Angelina's seat.
Against her better instincts, the girl looked down, her braids slipping free of their knot at the base of her neck to tap George in the
upturned face. He grinned, tugging one of the many bead-tipped locks. "Hello beautiful."
Yet again, the woman rolled her eyes, this time adding a slap to the chest to express her supposed annoyance. "Shut up, prat," she
snapped, ruining the seriousness of the words by laughing.
"No. No, I don't think I will," he smirked "After all, it's important for you to be reminded..." Without giving her time to protest, the red
head snaked a long arm around her waist, tugging her down from the arm of the armchair and into his lap. Spluttering half-formed protests,
Angelina pushed against his chest, struggling to climb out of her new seat as Fred and Alicia cackled. Blushing furiously, Angelina subsided
into glaring silence until she realized that she had yet to vacate George's lap. She made a lunge to get up, but was caught by George's restraining
arm, which was still wrapped around her waist, his hand resting on the strip of skin exposed by her shirt when she was so unceremoniously removed
from the arm of the chair.
"George Weasley, you let go of me," she protested, struggling against his hold.
He let her struggle a moment before speaking, "Angie?" she twisted in his hold to glare at him. "Do you really want me to?" He brushed one finger
over her side, sending a chill up her spine.
"Yes," she said too quickly.
"Really. You're sure?" His voice was low and unusually husky as his fingers moved softly across her hip to her stomach.
She nodded the tiniest bit, her stomach squirming pleasurably at his touch.
"Fine then." He dropped his arms, leaning away from her into the chair as he did so. Damn him. Angelina let a breath she hadn't noticed she was
holding out in a huff and didn't move. "Ha, I knew it. You don't ACTUALLY want me to let go. You just wanted to complain."
Angelina gave another huff, crossing her arms. "Don't delude yourself, Weasley," she said acidly, shifting and slidding off of his lap to stand, "I was--"
she was cut off as he replaced his arm around her waist, yanking her back down.
"On second thought, maybe you can't leave yet."
"Knew it." She smirked teasingly, trying to avoid being hyper-aware of his hand as she did so.
"What can I say--"
"Nothing I'll believe," she quipped
"Oh just jump 'im already Ang," Alicia interjected with a giggle, as Angelina flashed a quick glare at her.
"I just guess I don't mind you being here, so opportunely located, if I do say so myself..." It was his turn to smirk now as Angelina gave him a cautious
look.
"What d'you mean, George..." He gave a shrug, his face suddenly speculative. "What?" Her voice was more insistent now as she quirked an eyebrow at
him: it was unusual for him to look so serious.
"Just wondering," he said casually, still watching her
"Wondering WHAT, George?" She laughed, amused and slightly embarrassed by his staring.
"If you'd slap me if I tried this..."
Angelina frowned, then started as George pressed his lips to hers. The dark girl gave a muffled squeak, resisting for a moment before relaxing into the
kiss with a small noise.
George was slightly surprised when she didn't at least pull away, even more so when she responded in kind, twisting to press back against his lips. He
pulled back to flash her a mischievous grin before kissing her again, this time with slightly less hesitation. She followed suit, turning so that she could
straddle him as his hands slid to her hips, one finger slipping into the waistband of her jeans.
"Oh c'mon you two, get a room," Fred complained, making the two of them pull apart with a laugh. "Please. Spare us both."
"Just shut up. You're only jealous because Angie's too good at keeping you out of Alicia's pants. No offense love," he added hurriedly as Angelina raised
her eyebrows at him. "Besides, it's not a half bad idea...though I was thinking we should take a bit of a walk first"
"Were you really, Weasley?" the young woman on his lap raised her eyebrows once again, crossing her lean arms and hiding amusement at his worried look.
He surveyed her for a moment, taking in the quirk of amusement at the corner of her mouth, the way her posture and tense muscles relaxed at the touch of
his hand. Angie gave a soft shiver as his hand slid up from her waist to her flat stomach, wanting immediately to chide herself for being so obvious about his
affect on her. His lingering looks were making her stomach squirm pleasurably, and she felt a flush rise again to her cheeks as he murmured, "Only if you want
to, of course. We COULD go straight to the room part and forget the walk." He smirked flirtatiously as she spluttered a bit, cursing how relaxed and casual he was
acting while she struggled to figure out if he was toying with her simply because he was drunk, if only a bit, or because he was enjoying making her squirm. Or if
he was actually serious.