Alicia looked beyond George to the partially open door. She didn't know what to think. "Wasn't Fleur supposed to be hospitalised overnight?"
"The midwitch released her early." George's lips twisted. "Surprised me, too."
He kept sneaking glances over his shoulder. Was he worried his mother would come out before he could get rid of her? Alicia took a step back. "I'm not dressed for a family dinner," she said, "I can go home and—"
"NO!" George's adamant tone seemed to startle him as much as her. He laughed a little. "C'mon, stay. Your dress is fine." He moved closer. "More than fine, actually—it's gorgeous." He rubbed the halter strap with a fingertip. "What's this stuff? Satin?"
"Charmeuse. It's lighter, softer...clingier." It was hard to concentrate on fabric when his finger was tracing the edge of her bodice.
He dropped his hand to trail his fingers over the ribbon of tiny crystal beads beneath her breasts. "The sparkles are pretty."
"Thank you."
There was a roguish gleam in George's eye. "The skirt's made from different material than the top."
She pretended his sudden interest in fashion wasn't an excuse to run his hands over her. "The overskirt's chiffon."
"Overskirt?" He grinned like an imp. "What's under it?"
The look in his eyes tempted her to be daring. She took his hand and slipped it beneath her dress. "Feel for yourself."
His fingers caressed.
"That's my skin, not my skirt," she whispered.
"I know."
Alicia was still smiling when George kissed her. His lips were firm and warm, persuading her to forget that they were standing in front of an open door. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hooking her leg around his. George's hand slid higher.
A woman's voice cried, "George Weasley, what on earth are you doing out—oh!" Molly Weasley stood in the doorway of the flat, staring with her mouth open.
George said, "Alicia and I were waiting for Percy, Mum. We'll come inside if he doesn't return in a few minutes."
Alicia marvelled at how calm he sounded. Was it the years of practice talking his way out of trouble? Her face felt hot, and if she tried to talk, she was afraid her voice would sound high and thin, revealing her embarrassment. Somehow, it was worse to be caught by George's mother with clothes on than by her mum with their clothes off. It was a relief when Mrs. Weasley gave a jerky nod and shut the door.
"Bet that's the first thong Mum's ever seen," George said jokingly.
"Oh, Merlin, don't remind me." Alicia poked him in the chest. "It's your fault, Mr. Wear Sexy Lingerie!"
He chuckled. "What's that? You want me to wear lingerie? I hope silk boxers count. It's the best I can do."
"That isn't what I meant!" She tried to keep a stern expression and failed. He was too adorably naughty.
The sound of footsteps wiped the grin off George's face. "Did you go to Paris to find the right bread?" he called out.
Percy Weasley's voice echoed in the stairwell. "No, we only had to go to South Kensington to find an authentic boulangerie."
Alicia smiled to see Percy had brought his girlfriend with him.
Penelope held up a shopping basket. "He couldn't make up his mind," she said. "And men think we are the ones who waste time shopping."
George arched a brow. "What's so hard about picking out a couple of baguettes?"
The baiting tone caused Percy's face to redden. "Bill said Fleur's cravings have become unpredictable," he said. "I didn't want to have to go back if she decided she'd rather have sourdough, or something with apricots."
"A shrewd decision," said Alicia, trying to smooth things over.
George said, "Sensible to a fault, that's our Percy."
Percy stiffened.
The two women exchanged glances.
"Shall we go in?" said Penelope.
Alicia was already walking toward the door.
In the lounge, Mr. Weasley sat in a chair beside the sofa, leaning over to show Bill a rectangular yellow object. "The little vials inside show when a wall or surface is level," he said. "Hence the name. Ingenious people, Muggles!"
George cleared his throat. "Ahem! Dad, does Mum know you've been trolling Muggle shops again?"
Arthur rose to his feet. "Hello, Alicia," he said warmly, before turning to George. "I didn't purchase the level. It is merely on loan from my old department."
"How could a wizard misuse something like that?"
Alicia's curiosity earned a groan from George. "You had to encourage him."
Mr. Weasley handed her the level. "Allow me to demonstrate." Eyes twinkling, he asked, "Are you dating my disrespectful son?"
"Yes," she answered.
All eyes watched as a tiny bubble inside each of the three small vials floated toward the middle. Arthur beamed. "She's on the level!"
"I've got a question," said Bill. "Do you mind us barging in on your dinner for two?"
"Of course not." Alicia looked down. Each bubble had floated to the left side of the vial. She bit her lip. "Well, I would've been happy if I was properly dressed for the occasion." The bubbles drifted back to centre.
George frowned. "I told you the dress is fine."
"Yes, very nice," said Arthur.
Penelope's vigorous nod set her long curls bouncing. "I think your gown is lovely." She threw Percy a meaningful look.
He said, "Quite lovely."
George scowled. "On second thought, you can borrow some of my gear." He snatched the level out of Alicia's hand and extended it to his father.
Bill gave a bark of laughter. "What's the matter, brother? Afraid she'll get sauce on the dress?"
"Yes," George said shortly. "We're going dancing later."
Alicia's eyes flew to the level. The bubbles drifted to the right.
George tossed it to his father and grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the room. "Let them snigger over me not being on the bloody level," he muttered. "What was I supposed to say, that I don't want anyone staring down your dress but me?"
"Uh...George?" Percy had followed them.
Alicia told herself that a brother overhearing was better than a father.
George snapped, "What?"
"Would you give Mum the bread when you pass the kitchen?" Percy held out the basket.
"Do it yourself."
Alicia tugged her arm free. "I'll do it."
"Thank you."
She watched Percy return to the lounge and almost cracked a baguette over George's head. Couldn't he see that his brother was trying to repair their relationship? Alicia was so upset, she didn't even blush when handing Molly the basket. So Mrs. Weasley saw them snogging. So what? What did Molly's disapproval matter compared to George's pig-headed stubbornness!
Not until George locked the door to Fred's room did she calm enough to ask, "Are you trying to ruin dinner?"
He yanked open the wardrobe. "Of course not." He handed her a pair of trousers before considering one shirt and then another. "Solid or pin striped? George asked, holding out two dress shirts. One was classic white. The other was a burgundy that clashed with his hair.
"The wine colour. It won't show through," she said, "and you'll ruin dinner without trying if you don't stop needling Percy. Fleur isn't supposed to be stressed, remember?" She turned so he could undo her zipper.
After a minute of silence, George's fingers pulled the hidden tab. "All right," he said. "I'll be polite. Messing Percy about is no fun, anyway. It's like pushing a wet noodle." He untied the bow at her neck and swept aside her hair to kiss her nape. "Tell me," he murmured. "What don't you want to show through?"
Alicia took a deep breath and turned around.
-
George was quiet during dinner. He noticed with a private smile that Alicia was too.
The rest of the family took up the slack in conversation. Molly was impressed with the way Caper enlarged both kitchen and table to seat the family while Fleur, jubilant over being out of bed, praised the food in a stream of French that turned elfin ears pink. She especially enjoyed the bruschette. His sister-in-law claimed it far superior to the Italian bruschetta. Both were a mix of tomatoes and basil on garlic bread to George, but if being toasted on a round of French sourdough made it tastier to Fleur, he wasn't about to argue.
In fact, George found it perversely amusing to catch different family members eyeing him as if wondering when he would spoil the mood with a facetious or sarcastic comment. Bill had a warning glint in his eye. Upset my wife and you'll need more than Bruise-Remover Paste.
Mum's looks were a mixture of anxiety and threat. You will behave, won't you? If you don't, so help me, I'll box your ear!
Dad's expression was serene. You're a good lad, George. I knew I could count on you to keep the peace.
Fleur slanted an occasional, amused look. You wish to be alone with your bonne amie, yes?
Percy was the only one who never truly relaxed, even after several glasses of wine. Through every discussion, he darted a wary glance across the table each time he gave an opinion or responded to a question. Why aren't you putting me down or rolling your eyes? What's going on?
The impudent voice in the back of George's mind snorted. You know what's going on, don't you, Forge?
George ignored "Gred's" taunt. He met Alicia's eyes, smiling when she blushed.
You may have started out hot and bothered over what's under Alicia's shirt, but that isn't why you're sitting there hiding a smirk now, is it?
George covertly peered sideways. His inner voice was obviously disconnected from the physical aspects of his body.
That's right, rub it in. I don't mind. I was starting to feel left out.
George pretended to listen to Fleur's story of the first time she had attempted to conjure a soufflé, thinking if his voice was going to claim to be that of reason, the least it could do was make sense.
You know what I'm talking about, Georgie. Percy's drinking like Sirius Black, he's so nervous about what you might say or do. Why should he be the only one to get the emotional thumbscrews?
George couldn't answer. His thoughts were too tangled with pain and anger.
The sound of Alicia laughing along with the others brought him out of his dark reverie. George watched her cheeks dimple and suddenly wanted to be alone with her, in a place where the only shadows were cast by candlelight. He leaned in to ask, "Are you ready to go dancing?"
Caper chose that moment to serve dessert. "Plaisir au chocolat!" he announced grandly, before whispering to George, "Bittersweet chocolate cake with vanilla mousse and warm chocolate sauce."
"It looks delicious," said George, rising. "Unfortunately, Alicia and I have to be going."
"If you'll save a piece, I'd love to have it later," Alicia told Caper. She slipped out of the room to change.
The house-elf asked, "Is Mister wanting cake saved too?"
"No. Give mine to Percy."
"Why me?" Percy's tone was edgy.
George said lightly, "I owe you for the éclair I nicked off your plate that time Auntie Muriel brought pastries."
"I smacked Ron's hand for that!" Molly cried.
"He deserved it," said George. "I gave him a piece to keep quiet."
Everyone chuckled except Percy. He reached for his wineglass.
Fleur gasped when Alicia returned. "C'est charmant!" she exclaimed. "Where did you find such a dress?"
Smiling, Alicia named the shop.
Fleur placed her hand on Bill's arm. "I wish for such a gown. The high waist ees perfect for une femme enceinte!"
George quickly said a hearty goodnight and steered his girlfriend from the room. "Ginny taught you her Bat-Bogey hex, didn't she?" he said, when there was a door of solid wood between Alicia and his thoughtless sister-in-law.
"Why do you ask?"
"You looked like you were about to give Fleur one."
"Hex une femme enceinte? I wouldn't do that." She giggled. "I might imagine it, though."
The door opened. Bill stood on the doorstep holding his wife in his arms. Fleur was in tears. "Je suis désolé, Alicia, eef I hurt your feelings! Pardon! You do not look pregnant. You look vairy pretty!"
"Thank you," said Alicia. "The waistline is flattering on all sizes, so if you like the dress, I'd send Bill shopping. There are only a few left, and one was a silvery grey that would be lovely with your hair."
"Oui?" Fleur started to smile. "Mille fois merci! Thank you vairy much."
George waited until he and Alicia were walking down Diagon Alley to say, "About Fleur..."
"Yes?"
He shrugged. "I know she's ugly, can barely cook, and Bill just manages to tolerate her, but if you give her a chance, I think you'd be friends. She has a good heart."
Alicia narrowed her eyes. "Examined her heart line, have you?"
George grinned. "I leave that chore to Bill." He lifted her hand and kissed the palm. "I'm only interested in yours."
He inwardly echoed her sigh as they entered the tiny club hidden between two Diagon Alley shops. The Blue Note wasn't for everyone. The music had to strike a chord, to fill a need, or the magical door wouldn't appear.
"When did you discover this?" Alicia asked, looking around the dimly lit space. At the back of the room, a jazz trio was performing.
The club was filled with solitary patrons at tables for two. "Lupin told me about the place after a Potterwatch broadcast. Said jazz was simple, direct, and emotional—something he appreciated. I didn't understand what he meant the first time I came here, but I did when I left." George tensed, hoping she didn't realise that his first visit had been after the battle at Hogwarts.
If she did, Alicia was sensitive enough not to ask. She pointed to a square of wood flooring. "No one's dancing."
George winked. "We'll show them how it's done."
They moved slowly to music that ranged from sweet and slightly wistful to sultry. At then end of the set, he asked how she felt about jazz.
"I want to cry...and I want to make love with you."
He felt the same way, thanking his stars Mrs. Spinnet wasn't home when they arrived. George wasn't in the mood for small talk.
He wasn't in the mood for drifting off to sleep after sex, either. There was an idea niggling at the back of his mind that wouldn't let him rest. He had to go.
At the door, Alicia slid something into George's pocket while kissing him goodbye. "Don't look now," she said. "Only if you need help having sweet dreams. Promise."
He nodded, amused. "I promise."
George returned to the shop, climbing the steps with grim anticipation. Would he find what he thought he would?
He did.
Percy was passed out on the sofa, snoring, although no sound was heard. Bill must have used a Muting Charm. George stared down at his brother, remembering earlier thoughts.
Why should he be the only one to get the emotional thumbscrews?
"You know why, don't you Percy?" he said in a rough whisper. "You know why."
In the room Fred had decorated with a poster-sized photograph of their shop, George felt tears prick his eyes. He couldn't sleep on the bed. It wasn't his. He took a pillow and stretched out on the floor, reaching into his pocket. Had Alicia given him a packet of sleeping herbs?
It wasn't herbs. It was two pieces of satin. He traced the edges of rose-shaped fabric, rubbing them between his fingers. George didn't need to see the "petals" to remember they way they looked against creamy skin. He smiled in the darkness, gradually closing his eyes to dream of Alicia wearing rhinestones and tassels.
-
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A/N: There was more than one 'blue note' this chapter, wasn't there? For anyone wondering, if you aren't wearing a bra, but don't want "certain things" to show, nude-coloured "petals" are an option. Since this is a T rated fic, I won't begin to speculate what sort of pasties George imagined in his dreams. :D The readers who were kind enough not to make me speculate whether or not they liked the last chapter were...40/16, adrienne06052, alix33, AliciaSpinnet93, Alone All Along, AshCarroll aka ShadowDiva, Bardlover, Beauty Eclipsed, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, cream-cheese-girl, ElspethBates, FNP, Freja Lercke-Falkenborg, galicianphantom, hopecraycat, JasperisMYeverything, LimeJuiceTub, Kates Master, lyin', MBP, meeh-san, MollyCoddles, Moontime, PhoenixDreamer55, QuieraStrawberry9, RahNee, raindancyr, Sabrina Weasley, siriuslycoco, Slipknot-3113, Sophia Loren, sunny9847, Sunshine Spray, tambrathegreat, The Sugarfaerie, ToImagine-ToDream-ToLive, and VioletPastPrime.