Chapter 7 The Acceptance
George Weasley glanced nervously around the pub in Liverpool, hoping his clothes passed inspection.
No one was staring at him and sniggering, so he guessed it was all right.
Angelina Johnson dropped into the seat opposite.
"George? What's this all about?"
He swallowed. "I had to see you, Angie. Before it's too late. I had to know…"
"What? What is there to know?"
George paused. He'd been expecting a tender reconciliation, but Angelina sounded almost hostile.
"If you are okay?"
She actually looked astonished. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She brushed back her corn-rowed braids, and George caught sight of the huge diamond on her left hand.
"In fact, I'm better than okay! The Harpies have offered me a contract for next season, and I'm over the moon about it."
"Is…Bletchley pleased about that?"
"Yes, he is." Angelina nodded vigorously. She hesitated, then made up her mind. "George, I know we spent a lot of time together after the war, and figured it would become something…permanent. But now, I'm thinking it was our way of coping with Fred's death, and not particularly healthy for either of us."
George felt a flash of anger. "So what? You've moved on? Is that what you're telling me?"
Angelina met his eyes. "I guess it is. I've moved on, and if you do the same, I think you might be happy with Tracey Davis, happier than you would have ever been with me. Please, give it a chance?"
She got to her feet. "I have to go, I'm meeting Miles. Goodbye, George."
He sat in numbed silence, contemplating the way she'd said goodbye. Always, before, she'd said "Later" or "Ta."
George finished his pint, and walked out into the bright sunlight. Was Angelina right? Had they both been clinging to Fred instead of each other?
It was still early. He decided to call Tracey and invite her to dinner at the Burrow.
Ernie was worried about something, Hermione decided. Lately she found she was beginning to read his moods.
"What is it, Ernie? Is it about the wedding?"
"No! I mean, yes. It's about the party afterward. My family wanted to have a big reception at the lodge, but I know you would prefer to join everyone at the Burrow. So, they decided to give a formal ball instead, before we get married."
He looked so nervous she hastened to reassure him. "That's a lovely idea! When?"
He winced. "This week-end. Your parents will be here by then, and Monday is the ceremony at the Ministry."
"We'd better hurry and invite our friends."
"My family already did," he admitted miserably. "They didn't even tell me until last night! I know it's high-handed, but they're so happy about our engagement and wanted to surprise us!"
"I'd say they succeeded," Hermione agreed.
He blinked. "You're not angry?"
"No, but I have some serious shopping to do!"
"Where's Ginny?"
Molly Weasley was seriously annoyed. Everyone was here, dinner was ready, and yet there was no sign of her errant daughter.
No one else seemed to miss her. The talk was about the ball being given by Clan Macmillan at their lodge in the Highlands, and after that, about honeymoon plans.
Harry cleared his throat. "I've rented a villa in the South of France; it has six bedrooms, if anyone else cares to make use of them."
"You wouldn't mind?" It was Susan Bones who asked, glancing at Neville.
"We wouldn't." Daphne smirked. "We only need one bedroom."
Then she wondered what had come over her to be so bold. But everyone laughed, and it lightened the atmosphere.
She and Harry had discussed this, and decided to make the offer, since they knew some of their friends were financially strapped due to the war. Harry had pumped more money into Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, but he realized it would take some time for the business to recover.
Susan had no family left, and Neville's income was mostly going towards medical expenses.
"Thanks, Harry," Neville said softly. "I think Sue and I will take you up on that."
"So will we," Ron mumbled, through a mouthful of Marietta's Gateau Basque.
George hesitated, but Tracey gave him a pleading look.
"I guess we will too; the shop isn't ready to reopen just yet."
Hermione said nothing, but Ernie caught the wistful look in her eyes. He had planned a honeymoon in the Seychelles, followed by a ski holiday in Austria in winter, but he was learning to read his fiancé as well as she could read him. Besides, a holiday in the south of France sounded delightful.
"Why don't we join in? We can always arrange something else later!"
Hermione's eyes lit up, but she felt a bit guilty. She knew Ernie was from a wealthy family and didn't require a pre-paid honeymoon like some of the others, yet she longed to be with her friends.
"I really shouldn't desert the Ministry right now," Percy said importantly. "There's so much to do…" He caught Cho's eye, then said hastily, "…still, have to make time for a proper honeymoon."
Daphne nudged Hermione. "Shopping? In muggle London?"
"Of course," Hermione replied happily.
Macmillan Lodge, home to the vast Macmillan Clan, stood proudly in the Scottish Highlands, with myriad lights blazing a welcome to the visitors.
Hermione hardly had a moment to breathe as she and the Grangers were whisked away to meet Ernie's numerous relatives.
Daphne smiled at Harry. "I just had a thought…we're doing everything backwards! First the betrothal, then the date, now this grand ball, and then the wedding."
"It is fast, isn't it? Too fast really. Are you sorry about that?"
"Not at all. You can't think I'd ever wish to marry Theodore Nott!"
"That doesn't mean you want to marry me."
"I do, though. And I will say 'I do' on Monday, and as many times after that as you need to hear it. Here it is again: I do…love you. For always."
Harry grinned. "And I think…I love you! Just wish we could have discovered that on our own, without the Ministry meddling."
"Still, it will take care of the blood supremacists, once and for all," Daphne considered.
Harry grimaced. "If only everyone could accept that…"