Chapter 6: Let It Snow!

Meara walked along the empty sidewalk, a small smile on her face. She hummed a little tune as she passed a few shops closing business for the night. A cold breeze caught her long coat and whirled it around her ankles. A few stray leaves swirled around her boots.

Meara could not help but be in a good mood. She may have been hundreds of miles away from George, she may have been up until 3 that morning at a show, and she may have still not found anything for her mother for Christmas, but she could not bring herself to be upset. The clouds were heavy with snow. Meara could feel it in her bones.

There was nothing like snow. It came down white and fluffy and lovely as lace. It piled up on the streets and the cars, and if she really imagined, Meara could almost believe that there was no street to begin with. She loved watching little kids run around, making snow angels and throwing snow balls at each other. She even loved the nasty, grey snow. It gave wherever it was piled a makeover, allowing her to pretend.

When she was a little girl, a kindly neighbor had taken her in while her mother was working. The lady wasn't any older than her mother, but she moved in such a way as to radiate an older kind of grace. She had an older accent as well, very exacting in its pronunciation.

"Meara," she said one day when the little girl was kneeling on the window seat staring at the snow. "Would you like to read a book about snowflakes?"

The young Meara could barely contain her excitement. The lady walked over to the bookshelf and pulled down a small book. She then crossed the room back to Meara. "This book," she explained, "was written by my grandfather when I was a little girl. He was very sick one winter and all her could do was watch the snow falling outside his windowpane. So, to take up time, he wrote a little story for my cousins and I." She then handed the book to Meara and left to make hot chocolate.

Every time she saw snow from that time on, she couldn't help but think of the kind lady with the snow book and of the wonderful hot chocolate she had made. The lady had left soon after her mother had secured another job, one that would let her stay with Meara more often. Meara couldn't even remember her name.

When she returned to the apartment, the band was sitting on the couch and in the chairs in the living room and her mother was smiling at her. Meara stopped cold in the kitchen.

"What?" she asked, slightly afraid of the answer. Meara's mother just continued to beam. Meara slowly took off her coat and went to hang it in the closet. As she reached for the handle, she could feel the anticipation in the room rise. She turned to face the room.

"What's going on?" she asked slowly. Every face was plastered with a goofy smile. She raised an eyebrow and stepped away from the closet, dropping her coat on the sofa. The room seemed to empty of air as the tension rushed out. "Someone's going to tell me why everyone's all excited about me opening that door, or we're gonna be standing here a while."

The room seemed to fill with guilt. Meara shook her head and walked into the kitchen.

"What are we eating tonight?" she called out to her mother. Sophia sighed and went to plan a meal with her daughter.

The band sat in shocked silence in the living room. Finally, Robert looked to Ian.

"Do you think she'll realize George is hidden in the closet?" he asked quietly. Ian shook his head.

"No, he'll finally get tired of being in the closet and decide to visit her in her room," he said. "I'd bet money on it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Twenty dollars says that she'll put her coat away and find him," Robert said, pulling out his wallet. Soon, a pile of money was on the coffee table and the band leaned back in their chairs. Robert scooped up the money and put it into his pocket. "For safe keeping," he explained. The others trusted him and didn't object.

Dinner was a lively affair. Meara, mostly out of self defense, was forced to tease within an inch of his life every single member of her band. They took it sportingly and dished it back out to her. By dessert, the room was filled with good cheer and humor. Meara's coat still lay over the back of the chair, forgotten in all the jokes. From his hiding place, George could hear the jokes and smell the food. His stomach rumbled. What small sustenance the airline had given him was long since gone and he yearned for some of Meara's pastas. He yearned for her, but first things first. He could ravish her once he had eaten something.

Upon returning to the living room, Meara noticed her coat still over the back of the chair. She sighed and picked it up. "You," she called accusingly at Robert. "You prevented me from putting my coat away."

Robert shrugged his sholders. "Don't look at me, that was Ian!" he cried, giving himself a halo and trying to look innocent. The room rang with laughter. Meara giggled as she opened the closet door. What met her eyes was not what she expected.

The coat fell to the floor. In the doorway to the closet stood her boyfriend, George Weasley, smiling at her. Meara took a few steps backwards, shock evident on her face.

"Did someone slip me something at dinner, because I am definitely hallucinating," she whispered. George closed the gap between them.

"Do hallucinations do this?" he asked, sending shivers down her spine. He then covered her lips with his own. The band and Sophia politely looked off into the distance, pretending that they didn't see the couple snogging in the middle of the room.

Finally, Sophia couldn't stand it anymore. She stepped up to the couple. "Excuse me, young man," she said in her best imitation of an overprotective mother. George broke the kiss and pulled Meara to his side, turning as he did so that he faced Sophia.

"Yes?" he asked politely.

"Who the hell are you to be kissing my daughter like that?" Sophia demanded, fighting a smile. George frowned.

"Well, ma'am, I'm her boyfriend," he responded, raising his eyebrow at the curse word. Meara rolled her eyes.

"Mom, this is George," she said, stepping out of George's hold. "Be nice to him, I'd like to keep him for a while." She made her way over to the closet where she picked up the coat and placed it in its proper place. She then sighed and gently took George's hand.

"You must be starving," she said gently as she led him into the kitchen.

As she watched them go, Sophia smiled. "I'm glad she finally found someone," she said to no one in particular. She then turned to the band and kicked out of the apartment those who did not live there.

Author's Note: I know that this isn't the best chapter in the world. However, I do have a question. Give me the name of your favorite older male character. For instance, Gilderoy Lockhart. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. Of that generation.

Do not ask for what this is for. Maybe it's just a cleaver ploy for me to get reviews (note the sad 1 that I have so far garnered), but then again, maybe I'll actually do something with this. Just please review with that name.

Thank you.