Author's note: Bit of a random chapter, but then again, in this story... What chapter isn't?

Conversation between me and my mummy today:

Mum: *Talking about what we need to do in the holidays* You've wasted the entire day on fictional characters.

Me: What do you mean, wasted? Fictional?!

Mum: *Shouts dad* Honey! I think I've broken Hannah!

Dad: Meh.

I don't own Harry Potter.

On the Ninth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me: 9 Ladies Dancing, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree.

"Ada?" Fred groaned, propping himself upright to look at her. She grinned, leaning over the coffee table and bringing her face inches from his.

"Yes Freddie dear?"

"Could you get me another icepack?"

Laughing, Ada straightened up and walked over to the fridge, tossing him a bag of frozen peas. "Fresh out, darling. Here, have some frozen peas to make up for it."

Fred rolled his eyes. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Am not." She retorted, sticking out her tongue. "I enjoying this exactly the right amount, under the circumstances. As in, I'm enjoying this a lot. I hope you've learnt your lesson."

"Mmm-hmm." He moaned, lying back to stare at the ceiling.

"Don't make me give you a detention, now." She fixed him with a severe gaze.

"What would you make me do?" George smirked, lifting his arms and locking them around her neck, forcing her onto her knees by the arm of the sofa and bringing her face inches from his.

"Lines." She retorted, smiling as she kissed him on the nose. "I'd make you write: I must not levitate my girlfriend onto the ceiling using anti gravity hot chocolate and then trick her into looking like Buddha."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Fred winced. "But those bruises you gave me really set me in my place, don't worry. I won't be levitating anyone any time soon."

"Glad to hear it." She smirked, before leaning down for a kiss.


"George?"

"Yeah?" George replied, tilting his head so that he could look up at his girlfriend, who was tossing a quaffle up and down.

"What's todays prank? Just so I'm forewarned... Only I know the line is Ladies Dancing and I just wanted you to know that if you make me dance in any more public places, I'll-"

"Yeah. Transfigure me into a goat, murder me painfully, knock me into next year...which, now I think on it, isn't that far away. Never fear, Angelina darling. I learnt my lesson with regards to the ballet boots just after you forced me to eat those rose, thorns and all. My throats still scratched."

Angelina smirked in a self satisfied sort of way. "Yeah, well, just so your forewarned, any pranks at my mothers this evening will involve very painful-"

"What do you mean at your mothers this evening? We're not going to your mothers this evening, are we? We can't-"

"Holy Merlin, George!" Angelina laughed at his panicked expression. "You haven't seriously forgotten already?"

"Forgotten what?"

"Today! It's the annual Johnson Christmas get together. My mother's been going on about it since January! And whilst we're on that topic-" She leaned forward, looking him in the eye. "This is the first time a lot my family will meet you. I've told them a lot about you, but, well- I guess we'll just have to wait and see, but there is the potential for lots of things to go horribly, horribly wrong. So best behaviour. Smiles. And I swear to God, George Fabian Weasley, if a single thing explodes, you will be sorry!"

"Holy Morgana! The big meeting, the one that your father said: 'Don't screw up, or you won't be going near my daughter with a million metre barge pole.' That one? That's today?" George cried.

Angelina smirked. "Yep, Georgie dear. That is today. You're first official meeting with my family. I'm not entirely sure which one of us should be more nervous..."

"I made your mother a hundred vats of tea." George sighed. "How much more official can it get?"

Angelina merely smiled in a way that made George think that, just maybe, he wasn't going to enjoy himself very much tonight...


"Ange!" Came a slightly whiney voice from the next room.

Sighing, Angelina affixed the second earring in her ear lobe, gave her reflexion a final once over, and then went into the next room.

"Ange, I am not-" George broke off mid sentence, staring open mouthed at his girlfriend. "Wow- you look- Wow."

"Too much?" Angelina asked anxiously, smoothing over the red dress and patting down her hair.

"No! No, you look- You look beautiful." George informed her. Angelina beamed.

"Thanks. You're looking particularly handsome yourself." She told him, tweaking his tie and twining a strand of red hair around her finger. He grimaced uncomfortably.

"Ange- there is no way I am wearing this. Can I not wear my dragonskin jacket, or-"

"It's the suit or nothing." She replied, shooting him a warning glance.

"Excellent. That's settled, then. I'll go starkers."

Angelina laughed. "Much as I would love that, Georgie dear, I doubt my mother would appreciate your private parts being displayed in front of the entire extended family, especially since my Grandmother is incredibly straight laced about that sort of thing. A shame, I know, but there we have it. Come on, or else we'll be late."


Five minutes in, George had decided that he'd rather confront Voldy Pants with nothing but a chicken joke wand to defend himself with than remain at this party for another minute.

Every single female member of Angelina's extended family seemed to be made around the same breed as his great aunty Muriel- as in boring, stuffy and fussy. At least, if he had turned up in nothing but his birthday suit, it would have added some entertainment to this frightfully dull gathering... Granted, there were some rather good looking cousins, but as he was here with Angelina, he didn't even have the liberty to admire them openly.

"If it were anyone but you, Ange." He muttered under his breath.

"So, which side of the family are you from, dear?" Asked another of the aunts.

"With looks like that, Miranda, how could there be any question?" Laughed another, pinching his cheek.

"Actually." George said, once she had finally let him go. "I'm Angelina's boyfriend."

"Ooh! Angelina! Where is that girl? She's done herself well, here. I might just steal you."

George wanted to say 'Err... No, thank you.' But the thought disgusted him too much...

"George!" Cried a voice, quite suddenly, at his left ear.

George turned around to see Angelina, and could've wept with relief. She grinned, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, and took his hand.

"Hey, Aunt Miranda, Aunt Carolina." Angelina smiled, kissing each of the wrinkled women on the cheek. "George, there's someone I want you to meet. Excuse us a minute?"

"Thank you. I was dying there."

Angelina laughed, and the sound washed over George like music.

"I know." She whispered back. "I spent an entire three weeks of my summer holidays with them when I was twelve, nearly lost my mind. I wrote to you, remember?"

George laughed. "That's tweedledum and tweedledee?"

"Ssh!" Angelina said, though she was laughing. "Yeah. That's them."

"Where are we going?" George asked, then added, as if a hopeful afterthought. "The food table? Home?"

Angelina laughed. "No, you idiot. I want you to meet someone special."

The someone special, as it turned out, was snoozing in a chair. Angelina grinned at George.

"Gramma. Gramma!"

"Merry Christmas!" yelled the startled woman, jumping nearly a foot out of her chair.

Angelina took her hand. "Gramma, I'd like you to meet someone."

"Charlotte? That you?"

"No, Gramma. It's me, Angelina. I'm right here, see." She guided her Grandma's hand to her cheek. The woman's hand looked as if it had seen a thousand year, wrinkled with a weathered look to it, like a prune. Smiling, she caressed Angelina's cheek, and George realised she was blind.

"That I do, sweetheart. Ah, it's good to hear your voice, Angel." She winced as she pushed herself up. "Although I can't see a thing, as you should well know, you silly girl!" she chuckled.

"That's true." Angelina smiled, softly and sadly, as she stared into the lined face. Taken aback, George realised he had scarcely ever seen such a tender expression on her face.

"Ah, Angel. Now who's this you've brought to see a tired old woman? It's not Alicia is it? Or that Ada? They were lovely girls if ever there were."

"No, Gramma. This is my boyfriend, George." She guided her grandmother's hand into George's, who kissed it. Angelina grinned at him, and mouthed 'thanks.'

Gramma chuckled. "Now there's a boy who knows, Angel." She frowned, as if trying to recall something important. "But I'm afraid I don't- what exactly is it you do at the ministry, George?"

"The ministry?" George asked, confused, looking over at Angelina. She looked like she was biting back tears or laughter, and couldn't quite decide which.

"No, Gramma, that's Carlotta's boyfriend, Tim. He's in the Department of law, remember? They're engaged now, you spoke to him earlier. George runs a joke shop."

"Oh, that's right. Don't mind a silly old woman, George, dear. I'm frightfully forgetful, these days. But that Tim, he was a bore if ever there was one. He'll be right at home with Carlotta. A proper job, that's what you've got there. Angel, she was always my favourite. You still there sweetheart?"

"Right here, Gramma." Angelina whispered, placing her hand on her Grandmother's arm.

"There's a good girl. You still play Quiddich?"

"Yeah. You can come to a match someday."

"I shall look forward to it, sweetheart. Now, what kind of things do you get up to at this joke shop, George? Angelina's told us all kinds of stories, and it doesn't sound boring, like working in the department of law. You got any pranks planned for tonight?"

"Ah, now that would be telling." George laughed, his gaze flickering up to Angelina.

Gramma gave a cackle. "Ah, sweet Merlin, I hope so. Liven up this party a little bit. Do you know, I once put itching powder in your grandpa's sock draw? Took him weeks to get it out, and even longer to work out it was me! And Carolina, don't get me started on her, she was such a prissy child, and I remember quite clearly-"

"Merlin." Angelina laughed. "I knew introducing you two was a mistake. I'm going to check something with mum, alright, Gramma? George'll be right here."

Patting her hand, Gramma let go. She waited a few beats, before leaning forward, though her eyes lingered somewhere just above George's right ear. "Is she gone?"

"Yeah. She's talking to Carlotta, I think."

"God bless her soul." Laughed Gramma. "Now, George. You seem like a nice boy. When are you going to marry my granddaughter?"

George laughed, looking at the woman.

"I'm serious." She warned. "I want to see Great Grandchildren before I depart this earth, and I don't want to see Carlotta's first neither."

George grinned. "Someday. Someday soon."

"Good. That's good." Gramma sat back in the chair, surveying the scene her eyes could no longer see, but enjoying it all the same as her feet tapped out the rhythm of the speaker which had just turned on.


The prank that night involved a great deal of shrieking and an upturned bowl of macaroni cheese, but Angelina wasn't as angry as usual. When it was over, she climbed into bed beside George and turned off the light.

A few beats of silence. Then she rolled over and draped her arms around George's shoulders, squeezing gently.

"George?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." She whispered, and George felt his heart constrict at the heavy emotion in her words.

"For what?"

"For being there, today. I don't know what you said to my Gramma, but whatever it was- you made her really, really happy. And wiped the smile off Carlotta's face."

"You're welcome." George laughed, yawning widely.

"And- I guess, because you're always there when I need you. And I needed you tonight. There were so many people there who- who weren't there. I didn't realise how important it was to me until I got there. Thank you for coming."

"Ange?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for inviting me."