Chapter Two

"Welcome madam, to Chez Georges, may I take your coat?" George gave an exaggerated bow as Alicia stepped through the door. She giggled as he removed her jacket and draped it over the back of the sofa. "Please, sit down." He pulled out a chair at the dining room table, which featured two place settings and a hazardous amount of candles. The success of the joke shop meant the twins could afford a far bigger, and far nicer flat than she could.

She sat. "George, you didn't need to do all of this."

"Nonsense," he said, kissing her hand with a grandiose flourish. "Would the lady care for some vino?"

"Sure."

He retreated momentarily to the kitchen before returning with the first of what she was sure would be many bottles. He filled both wine glasses before sitting across from her. "What do you think?" he asked earnestly, gesturing around the room. The normal chaos of the twins' living quarters had been tamed, the lights dimmed, and she spied fresh flowers in a corner.

"It's lovely." She smiled at him, reaching across the table to take his hand. "And, unless I'm mistaken, I don't smell anything burning."

George grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Well I have bought a ready-made backup dinner in case this goes tits-up, but I think it's coming along well so far."

Alicia took a long drink of the sweet red wine. "I bet it is. I can't wait to taste it. The wine's nice too."

"Okay good, that's the first test. You know I don't know anything about wine except white and red," George laughed. "Definitely not pairings and all that."

"How was the match?"

"Yeah, it was good. Cannons lost, as always. Charlie nearly got in a fight with one of the Wimbourne supporters, but it was good banter." He paused. "He told us he's thinking of asking Natalia to marry him."

Alicia took another sip of wine. "That's great!" she said. She'd met Natalia at the Weasleys' last Christmas dinner. A lovely woman: Romanian, beautiful, and even more nuts about dragons than Charlie was. "Did he say when?"

George shook his head. "Sometime soon. But he wanted to ask all of us what we thought. Bill obviously told him to go for it so that he doesn't have to be the only old married man," he laughed. "Can you believe he asked Percy before he asked us?"

Alicia smiled. "What did Percy say?"

"Something twatty probably."

She snorted as he continue. "But Mum and Dad love Natalia. Even Ginny likes her, which is saying something. Not that Ginny doesn't like you," he added hurriedly. "But she wasn't too keen on Fleur."

"I remember you saying that," she mused. "I think it's great."

"Me too," George agreed. "Now, don't move a muscle, I think dinner's ready and I don't want anything to jinx it. One false move and the whole place is gonna blow." He winked and disappeared to the kitchen again.

He returned moments later bearing two plates piled high with succulent lamb, garlic mashed potatoes, and roast vegetables. Alicia's mouth watered at the smell as he set the plate down in front of her and topped up her wine. It looked incredible.

"George, you did all of this?"

"I told you I'd been practicing," he grinned.

Before he could return to seat, she grabbed his face and gave him a passionate kiss. It was moments like these, when he really tried, that she felt certain her apprehensions were nothing more than silly doubts. George loved her. She knew that, and she loved him. All she needed from time to time was a gentle reminder.

"Right, you've been sulking in your room for the past two days. We're going out." Angelina's lithe figure appeared in Katie's doorway, freshly showered from Quidditch training.

Katie looked up from where she was flopped on her bed. Other than going to work, she'd shut herself away since Wednesday's disastrous date. "I don't want to."

"Come on, Kate, Fred's asked us to go for a drink. Apparently George told him in no uncertain terms not to be in the flat tonight. Especially after what happened last time. Lee won't be there, so whatever happened on your date doesn't matter. Dean might," Angelina told her, as if that would tempt her.

"I don't want to go for a drink, I don't want to see Fred, and I definitely could not be less interested in Dean at the moment," Katie said. "You go. I want to be alone."

Rather than leaving, however, Angelina came and plopped herself down on the bed beside her friend. "I'm not going if you're not," she said. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, I don't know. It's stupid."

"It's not. Not if you're upset about it."

"Just…the date was bad, okay? That's all."

"Katie," Angelina said, looking her squarely in the face. "You have been on dates from hell and never been down about it before. Not like this. Even," she emphasized, "when we set you up with Miles Bletchley."

Katie gave her a weak smile. "Ange," she shook her head. "I really fucked up. My head's in a really weird place. I don't know what to do."

Angelina wrapped her in a big hug. "Right," she said. "This calls for Dr. Johnson's special medicine. One prescription for wine and ice cream. Red or white?"

"You don't have to stay, go have fun with Fred."

"Don't be thick."

"White, please." Katie smiled.

"Right, don't go anywhere. I'll run out and grab some and tell Fred I'm not coming. This is more important."

"George, that was honestly amazing," Alicia said, leaning back in her chair. "And I couldn't eat another bite."

"All credit to that Gordon fellow," George grinned.

The conversation had admittedly not flowed quite as freely as the wine, but that didn't matter. Alicia told herself they were comfortable silences, small punctuation in a pleasant evening. George cleared her plate, and she could hear the scrubbing brush begin to work of its own accord in the kitchen.

George sat down and took another large swig of wine. The first bottle was gone, and the second well underway. Alicia's face was hot, her body relaxed, her mind clouded with pleasant nothings. "I really appreciate this," she murmured. "It's really great to spend time with just the two us."

"Ah," George nodded. "Does that mean I should cancel the stripper?"

Alicia giggled. "Depends, is it Fred?"

"No," George said, pretending to be indignant. "Fred would never excel in a profession such as that. It's Percy, obviously."

Alicia snorted. "Then by all means, bring him on!" she laughed. "My body is ready." This was what she loved, not their stilted dinner conversation. Whatever they were going through, he could always make her laugh. That would always be the most attractive thing about him.

"Is it?" he asked, from across the table. His hazel eyes looked at her with a deep warmth and not-so-subtle flick to the low-cut neckline of her dress.

"It might be," she replied, voice low. A jolt of anticipation ran through her.

"Ready for what?"

"I think you know." It had been quite a while since she had wanted him like this.

George grinned. "Dessert." He said definitively.

Dessert? He pushed out his chair and walked to the kitchen again, sexual tension broken. Never mind, Alicia thought, he's just excited about the meal. It's sweet. Plenty of time for that later. He popped his head out. "I hope you're in the mood for chocolate."

"Now." Angelina settled back on Katie's bed with two large glasses of white wine. "Tell me everything."

"It was going really well," Katie sighed. "Not as a date, or anything. We both acknowledged it was really just a friendly catch-up in the first few minutes. It was a good chat, sort of just reminiscing, having a few drinks."

"Okay, so that's good?"

"But then we left and he walked me home. I guess maybe we'd been flirting a little bit. But I don't know what came over me. I just grabbed him and—"

"Oh, Katie, you didn't—"

"I didn't sleep with him," Katie told her. She flushed. "I did think about it, though. But he was kissing me and grabbing me and I just panicked. I made him stop, made him go home. He was dead nice about it but I felt awful. I don't know why I did it in the first place."

"And you're embarrassed?" Angelina asked. "Because if that's the case, don't be. You had a few drinks, it happens to everyone."

"That wasn't why, though," Katie shook her head. "I didn't…want him, really. I just wanted someone, you know?"

Angelina nodded. It was far from the first time Katie had done something like this, but she hadn't been as upset about it any of the previous times. It wasn't healthy, they all knew that, but who hadn't been guilty at some point? Why is this time so different? Angelina wondered. "Is that why you're so upset? You feel like you used him?"

"Part of it," Katie admitted. "I mean Lee is honestly such a nice guy, he didn't deserve that. But it's also…I don't know. Never mind."

"No, tell me. What?"

"It was because he asked me about Oliver."

Angelina drew in a breath. "What did he say?"

"That's the thing." Katie shook her head. "Nothing, really. It was completely innocent, just asked me if I still talked to him, and that was enough. I just got this lump in my throat thinking about him."

"Kate," Angelina hugged her. "I had no idea it still upset you that much."

"It's stupid." Katie took a big sip of wine. "I haven't even spoken to him since I left school. It's sort of pathetic, really."

"It is not," Angelina told her. "You really liked him, Kate. It's not stupid."

"You don't get it," Katie said sadly. "I loved him, Angelina. Loved him. All the dates, the complaining about being single, the crush on Cedric, none of it was really what I wanted. From the word 'go,' I never wanted anyone but him. I still don't."

There was a moment of silence as Angelina collected her thoughts. She and Alicia knew Katie fancied him, but they always figured it was just a crush. Who among them hadn't fancied Oliver at least a tiny bit at some point? Even Angelina remembered being about twelve and thinking he was the cutest boy she'd ever seen. As long as they'd known her, Katie's romantic whims seemed to come and go like the breeze. Oliver was different, Angelina knew. She had been able to see it in the way Katie talked about him. They'd teased her about Oliver. At one point they'd been absolutely adamant that it was a Thing That Should Happen, but they never managed to make it so. Even after he left Hogwarts the flame simmered as they wrote to each other constantly, but nothing ever materialized.

But loved. That wasn't a word Angelina had ever heard Katie use about anyone. Especially after everything that had happened, she didn't think he deserved it. Katie had stopped speaking to him after a tabloid picture had emerged of him engaged in a less-than-innocent kiss with her older sister at a party. Angelina refilled their wine glasses. Her heart was breaking on her friend's behalf.

"I mean," Katie continued. "What sort of saddo is still in love with someone two years later?"

"He doesn't deserve your love, Katie." Angelina's voice was soft but firm. "And you are not a 'saddo.'"

"I am, though. I can't even hear his name without getting emotional and lonely and doing daft things like snogging Lee Jordan. I can't do it, Ange. No one looks at me the way he did, or makes me laugh the way he did. He was the one and he may as well have slapped me across the face."

"He's not the one," Angelina replied matter-of-factly. "Because if he was, he would have realized you were the best thing he could have hoped for. And as it so happens, he's an idiot who didn't see that. Someone will come along for you, you'll see."

"You sound like my mother."

"Then your mother's a smart woman," Angelina laughed. "You are way too beautiful and smart and talented to become and old spinster like me."

"Shut up," Katie said, smiling. "You're neither old, nor a spinster. The minute you and Fred accept that you're made for one another, there will be wedding bells."

"Give over."

"I'm serious." There was a pause. "So where's Dr. Johnson's ice cream then?"

"I'll get it from the freezer," Angelina grinned. She stood and went to the door. "It will be alright, Kate, I promise. Oliver Wood can go fuck himself."

Alicia sighed and rolled over. Though the space between George's cool linen sheets was a familiar one, she couldn't sleep. The night had been lovely up the point they retreated to his room. Alicia's mind had been filled with delicious details of all the ways she wanted to pay him back for dinner, as she had the first time he'd attempted a romantic meal. That night had been so passionate, so pleasurable. As soon as they'd finished eating she'd crawled under the table to thank him. His hands had peeled off her clothes and hers, his. He'd had her on the sofa, on the kitchen counter, and even on the floor in front of the door, all sweat and moans and breathlessness. They'd been so consumed by each other's bodies that they had barely noticed when Fred got home and nearly tripped over them before they moved to George's room for rounds two and three.

Tonight, however, had been a completely different story. Rather than the raunchy wild passion she'd envisioned, and indeed attempted, George only gave her a half-hearted fumble before falling asleep. She told herself that it was alright, he was probably tired from work and the cooking, but she couldn't help but be disappointed. The problem, really, was that recently the majority of their sexual encounters seemed to be this sort of lazy and dispassionate love-making. The only time they really seemed to go at it was when they'd been fighting—lust fueled by anger, rather than love. The past few months, Alicia had caught herself wondering if George really wanted her. If he was even still attracted to her. He didn't seem to want her the way he had, that was certain. Sometimes she wondered if she wanted him the same, or if she wanted to relive their previous passions.

She rolled over again, facing him. He hadn't even kissed her goodnight before dropping off to sleep. Her body still ached for his love, and her heart had begun to ache for it too. At the end of the day, it wasn't about the sex. Not really. It was about that intangible feeling she felt was missing more and more from their relationship. And yet still, here, bathed in the moonlight peeking in through his curtains, she felt that he was beautiful. She reached over and kissed his sleeping forehead. She would find a way to bring them back, she decided. She had to.