The Beginning

George stared at the number filled paper blankly, his eyes slowly glazing over as he tried to decipher the various equations and abbreviations. It was hard to believe, but Fred was the one who had any gift with numbers; George handled staffing, his twin handled the economics.

It was better not to think about his other half though, if he intended to stay sane. It had been years since Fred's death and he still could barely think about his brother without getting distracted or worse, tearing up. He went back to looking at the numbers, which seemed to be looking more and more like hieroglyphics. He swore under his breath, knowing he wouldn't be able to get through this without making some kind of catastrophic mistake, no doubt making his business bankrupt and not even realizing it until it was too late.

Wow, that's depressing. He thought. I haven't thought like that since... He decided it was better not to continue that thought. He hadn't had a particularly good day all week, he assumed that was what was putting him in this mood. Maybe I should call Ron and Hermione. They might be able to figure this shit out and-

His thoughts were interrupted as his office door opened. He was getting ready to be angry at their lack of knocking, but, as it usually did when she was around, all bad emotions washed away immediately at the sight of her face.

"May I come in?" She said, sticking her head through the crack in the door. He could hear the slight spanish accent in her speech.

"Of course, Esmerelda." He smiled warmly and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping he didn't look to scraggly.

She moved into the room, nervousness obvious in her stride. His eyebrows shot up as he got the full image of her. She wore an elegant pants suit, crisp and clean with prominent creases from the ironing. She wore earrings (He had no idea she even had her ears pierced) and a gold pendant. Her silky black hair was tied back in a high bun, emphasizing her sharp cheek bones. He could even see make-up around her eyes, and perhaps what was most surprising were the two inch black heels she wore on her feet. He could hardly believe this was the same women who wore jeans, a tee shirt and flip flops to work everyday.

Wow.

"How can I help you?" He asked, still taking her in.

"Um, I have a proposition for you." George once again raised an eyebrow.

"Um, okay. Lay it on me."

"Well," She bit her lip and avoided his eyes. "We both know you can't run this business by yourself much longer." She waited for him to defend himself, but he knew full well she was absolutely right. "I propose you find yourself a worthy business partner." She hesitated. "Someone like … me?"

Silence.

Esmerelda opened her mouth to persuade him, misreading his expression out of her own paranoia. Before she could say a word, he replied.

"HELL YES!" His face morphed into a lopsided grin, while simultaneously noticing how unused that facial expression felt.

"Are you asking me to go into business with you?"

"Indeed I am."

Obviously, someone or something had taken pity on him. He had been sent an angel, his savior. He hadn't realized it when she first came to work for him, how perfect she was. She had an interesting back story, even weirder than the Weasleys. They completed eachother.

Now he just needed to tell her that.

Great. Yeah, no problem.

He decided to worry about that later and focus on the business side of this union.

Esmerelda got to her feet just as he did, and he came around his desk to shake her hand. He felt electricity shoot through his palm at her touch. Before he knew it she had stood up on her tip toes and had her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his. He hardly had the presence of mind to put his arms around her waist. When they broke apart they were both grinning mammothly.

Damn, that felt good. George thought.

She left after that, and he was sad to see her go. She had saved him, the whole business really. He couldn't be more greatful.

He just hoped that found she same joy in this as he did.