Ok, this is a massively long chapter, and it's kinda boring, so I'm sorry...
I sat nervously in Dumbledore's office, waiting for Gianna and Adele to arrive from their classes. George was fiddling with numerous instruments sitting in the Headmaster's office, clearly trying to occupy himself. The door opened, and I looked over at the faces of my girls.
"Momma!" Adele cried, running over to fling herself into my arms. I held her tightly, laughing at Gianna who looked horrified.
"What did Gianna do, Momma?" Adele asked with a giggle.
I laughed warmly, and I heard George try not to snicker.
"Gianna didn't do anything—that I know of," I replied, casting a stern glance at Gianna. She blushed and looked away.
"So why are you here then?" Gianna asked, flopping into a chair and fiddling with the instruments on the table nearest to her. I smiled weakly.
"Well, you girls know how the sorting hat made that comment about Weasleys," I began, glancing over nervously at George, who was watching me impassively. "Gianna was right. Your dad is George Weasley," I gestured to George, and the girls both swiveled their heads to stare at him. "He and his twin brother, Fred, were pretty famous when they went to school here for pulling pranks," I added with a warm smile.
"You're our dad," Gianna stated, looking at him through narrowed eyes from her chair. "You're the one who gave us that stuff from the joke shop."
"Yes," he said hoarsely, looking at the two girls.
"So how come we've never met you before?" Adele asked in a frigid tone.
"Because I didn't tell him about you girls," I said quietly. Gianna looked at me with rage blazing on her beautiful face.
"You decided that we didn't get to have a father?" she shouted. "Maybe I wanted a father! Who said you got to decide?" She was hurling George's earlier words at me. "I hate you!"
Gianna looked once more at George, who smiled weakly, and she ran off, slamming the door behind her.
"This is your fault," Adele said coolly to George, and he looked at her in surprise. "You must have done something to make Momma think she couldn't tell you. I don't particularly like you," she declared loftily, lifted her chin, and swept regally out of the room.
"Hmm…you were right, of course," he said, smiling faintly. "Gianna is just like me, and Adele could be a younger version of yourself."
I laughed weakly, trying to wipe away my tears.
"Neither of them have ever said things like that before," I said quietly, staring at the door. "Maybe I should go after them."
"They'll write you a letter when they're ready to talk," he said calmly, shrugging. "Probably demanding that you come back here again. Gianna's going to be very angry with you for a while," he grinned at me.
"I don't know how long Adele is going to take to warm up to you," I shot back, standing up abruptly. "I'm going back to the Leaky Cauldron."
"Wait, Anna," he said quietly, pulling me into his arms. "I think we should tell them soon about what's been going on."
"Excuse me?" I looked at him in horror. "I'm not telling my daughters that we are sleeping together." My tone was frosty.
"Are you two quite finished?" Dumbledore asked form the doorway, a twinkle in his eye.
A blazing blush began to creep up into my cheeks, and I pushed my long, wavy brown hair behind my shoulders. George merely met Dumblodore's gaze with one of his own.
"You know, Headmaster, Gianna is going to be even worse than Fred and I were," George commented with a straight face.
"Oh yes, I know," he returned, grinning broadly. "But thirteen years is too long for this school to be without a prankster."
I laughed and George walked into the fireplace still holding me tightly in his arms. I struggled briefly against him when he reached for some floo powder, but gave up when it became apparent I wasn't going to be successful in freeing myself.
I looked around my new flat nervously. It was two floors, and had warm oak floors. The walls were all painted in warm taupe and beige. I had purchased all of my furniture in Muggle shops, and had chosen a black leather finish for all of the furniture. I still had a preference for living like a Muggle, after having grown up in Colorado. My mother was a Muggle from Aspen, and very rich on her own, and Daddy was a Wizard from France and also very wealthy. I had grown up accustomed to privilege. I not only had money from my family, but also from playing Quidditch. Professional Quidditch players made money almost equivalent to what Muggle Sports players made.
In mere moments, the girls would be arriving in my flat via floo to celebrate Thanksgiving. After speaking with the Headmaster, he had agreed that it was important for the girls to continue with their American customs while adopting more British customs.
George was in the kitchen with his mother, speaking quietly, and they immediately changed the subject anytime that I walked in. As a result, I had taken to giving everything another quick cleaning, and I had decorated two rooms on the lower level for the girls. My suite was upstairs and it had a bedroom, a sitting room, and an amazing bathroom. When I had first acquired the flat, George had originally only stayed one, maybe two nights a week, but after almost a month and a half, he was going to his flat only one or two nights a week.
"Anna," George called from the kitchen. I rushed through the doors, glancing nervously at the fireplace, which was now blazing with green flames.
Gianna came tumbling out, a broad smile plastered on her face. Molly stared at Gianna, her eyes drinking in every aspect of Gianna's face. Molly looked close to tears when Adele stepped out of the flames, dusting her robes off carefully.
"Hello girls," I said, smiling broadly.
"Hello, Mother," Gianna said coolly, crossing her arms and looking away almost at once.
"Momma," Adele cried, launching herself into my arms. I held Adele tightly, trying not to be too upset about Gianna's behavior. I glanced over to see her embrace George suddenly.
He looked as if he were about to begin crying as well, as he wrapped his arms around his daughter, and his eyes met mine. Molly was in tears now, looking at her granddaughters.
"Adele, Gianna, this is your grandmother, Molly Weasley," I said, gesturing to George's mother.
Adele walked over to her, and smiled warmly. My girls had grown a lot since leaving for school, and bother were only an inch or so shorter than I was. Molly began sobbing loudly and pulled both girls into her arms, squeezing them tightly. I smiled, and leaned against George, who reflexively wrapped and arm around my waist, watching as our daughters began chatting about anything and everything with their grandmother.
"Does daddy really have a twin too? Momma's twin doesn't look like her though," Gianna questioned eagerly.
"Yes, George's twin brother is Fred, and they're as much alike as you two," Molly sad with a warm smile.
"Are Momma and Dad living together now?" Adele asked bluntly, turning her canny gaze upon us. I flushed a pale pink color, and George seemed completely unfazed.
"I believe that is where I shoo the four of you into the living room so that I can finish making dinner," Molly said, nodding toward the door.
Adele sighed and breezed out of the kitchen, Gianna following her. I pushed the door open, and stepped out to see them both looking around in appreciation.
"Quite a bit smaller than the Vail home, momma," Gianna sneered, flopping into one of the black chairs. My fists clenched slightly. I had never hit either of my girls, but Gianna was pushing me dangerously close.
"I rather like it, Gianna," Adele replied, looking up at some of the pictures on the mantle. There were a couple of pictures of George and I from when I was still at Hogwarts, and a few of the girls as well.
"My, my, Adele, how your standards have dropped," Gianna snarled.
"I think that's quite enough," George said in a firm tone, and both girls turned to stare at him incredulously. "This is really a very nice flat, and you do have several other homes. There is absolutely no reason that your mother should have purchased another even larger home than the others she owns."
I watched as Adele walked over and looked up at her father, her eyes narrowed slightly. She was very good at reading people.
"Do you love Momma?" she asked calmly.
"Yes I do love your mother," he replied, meeting her gaze evenly.
"And do you love dad, mom?" Gianna demanded, staring at me steadily.
"Of course," I replied in a soft voice.
"So are you living together?" Gianna asked slyly. Adele's gaze was flicking between George and myself.
"Yes," George said simply, taking a seat on one of my couches. I continued to stand nervously.
"Are you going to get married?" Adele asked hopefully.
I stared at her blankly.
"We haven't discussed that," George smoothly interjected. "Why don't you girls go look at your new rooms?" he suggested, tilting his head to the hallway that would lead them to their new bedrooms. Both girls walked off, and I waited until they were out of view before I turned my attention to George.
I sighed heavily and dropped into the chair vacated by Gianna. George quirked an eyebrow at me, and I smiled softly before getting up and walking over to sit beside him. He draped an arm around me, holding me close.
"Are they always that taciturn?" he asked jokingly, as his hand ran up and down my side.
"Naturally," I replied with a short laugh. "Look at their parents!"
He laughed heartily, and lifted my face o he could look me in the eye.
"You know that I meant what I told Adele, don't you?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, I know, George," I snapped, jerking my gaze away from his. "It's nothing but the truth, after all."
"Anna," he said and waited until I looked back at him again. "It is something that I do want to discuss with you at some point. Marriage is something that I need to speak with you about." I nodded, and turned my gaze to the floor.
"Later," I said in a quiet tone.
"Of course," he replied, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.
I lifted my face to his, and met his lips with my own, smiling slightly. I was careful to avoid anything more than a simple kiss with the girls in the house and the two of us sitting in the middle of the living room. It wasn't as if we hadn't already done a little more than kiss in this room, but it was hardly appropriate for our daughters to walk in on us.
"Our daughters have apparently finished with their rooms," George added, squeezing me gently before standing up and leaving me alone on the couch.
I looked over at the girls, who had clearly been watching us for a few moments. I smiled warmly and patted the seat next to me. Adele ran over and sat beside me. Gianna and George were seated on the floor at the coffee table, discussing pranks of some sort. The evening passed rather pleasantly, and by the time the girls went to bed, Gianna was talking to me again, and Adele had warmed up to George very nicely. Molly waked out of the kitchen to say goodnight, before flooing back to the Burrow, where presumably she would be telling everyone about the girls.
George waited until he heard the roar of flames in the kitchen before he dragged me into his arms, kissing me soundly.
"You know love, there are two ten-year-old girls just down the hall," I murmured against his lips, with a smile.
"Hmm," he affirmed, continuing to ravage my lips. "Perhaps we should continue this upstairs," he commented dryly, sweeping me into his arms and walking up the stairs fairly quickly.
Once in my rooms, he pushed the door shut and set me on my feet. I looked up at him curiously, and he smiled before walking over to sit on one of the couches that faced the fireplace. I smiled and walked over to him. He looked up and took my hand, lifting it to his lips. I smiled and straddled his lap, and rested my forehead on his chest.
"As much as I would enjoy a good bout of sex, I don't think it's the best idea with our daughters staying in the same house as both of us for the first time," I said quietly, as his hands began to run over my slim form. He fiddled momentarily with the hem of my sweater, and lifted my chin.
"Good thing you're wearing a jumper. Can't feel much of anything through one of those," he teased, kissing the tip of my nose. "You're right of course."
I smiled and moved to stand up only to find that he was having none of that.
"George," I said warningly, and he grinned broadly.
"Annabelle," he mocked, kissing me soundly. "While I agree that a shag is perhaps not the best idea," he murmured as he nuzzled the side of my neck, "I don't think a proper snog would be out of line either."
"Maybe you're right," I murmured, as my lips found his.