Angelina reaches for her wand immediately when she hears the pounding on her door. She doesn't expect anyone to be here this late and her first thought is that Death Eaters have come to take her. Then she remembers that the war is over and that she's in her flat and everything is fine. Expect for the pounding noise on her door. Huffing, she climbs out of her bed wand in hand—just in case—and makes her way to the front door. The rain assaults her roof, making her wish that she was back in her warm bed and not creeping across her cold floor. She's going to murder whoever is standing at her front door right now.

She changes her mind when the door swings open to reveal a soaked George Weasley, though.

At first, she has no words for him, but then her anger returns full force.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she shouts. "It's the middle of the night and some people have to sleep unlike you. We can't all drink ourselves in oblivionation."

She can see that her words hurt him, but at the moment, she doesn't care.

"I'm sorry," he mutters.

"Sorry?!" Angelina snaps. "You're sorry? If you were really sorry, you would have waited to come over in the morning instead of the middle of the night when I was asleep. If you were really sorry, you would have stopped the drinking—you would have stopped using me."

He winces at her words. "Ange, please, I wanna talk."

"You had your chance to talk," she cries before trying to slam the door in his face. However, even though he's probably drunk, he's not out of shape and he forces the door open.

"Please, don't be like this," he pleads.

"Fine," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Give me three good reasons why I should take you back and then I'll think about letting you inside."

"Fine," he replies. "One: not all of our time together was bad. There was the day we went to Fleur and Bill's to house sit and the time we went Oliver's Quidditch match. Those were good days, Ange."

She remembers both of those days very clearly. Bill and Fleur had decided to pack up and visit her family in France and they had asked George to house sit for them. She and George were just starting out then and everything was new and exciting. So when he had asked her to come with him, she had said yes. They'd spent the weekend lazing around and not doing much of anything, which had suited her just fine.

The other day was just a fun. Katie had invited them to come to Oliver's match when she found out that they were free for the day. (She had also just started dating Oliver and was a bit nervous.) So Angelina had agreed to come and they ended up cheering their former classmate on and Angelina made sure Katie wasn't too worked up over it all. Afterward had been just as fun when the four of them had decided to go out and celebrate the Puddlemere win.

"Two," he continues. "I miss you."

The statement causes Angelina to draw in sharp breath. That is the last thing she expected him to say to her. George is an emotional person, but he doesn't like to express his emotions in words. He expresses them in actions instead. When he is happy, the ideas for his shop increase tenfold. When he is sad, he drinks himself to sleep. When he is angry, he makes things explode.

Angelina's mind is so preoccupied with thinking about George, that she doesn't notice him stepping forward, until his arm is around her and he's pulling her toward. Her hands come around his neck out of habit and she does nothing to stop his lips from reaching hers. She is insistently soaked through when her chest touches his, but she doesn't care. George is a drug and she has been too long without him to pull away now.

Instead, she walks them back inside her house and he closes the door behind them. Once this is done, he slams her up against it as she unbuttons his shirt. It's been too long since she's done this and her fingers are fumbling, but she doesn't care. Right now, all she cares about is George and how his hands are not touching enough of her skin.

Once he's out of his wet shirt, she lets her hands find his and draws them up the front of her soaked night gown. Finally, she brings them to rest on her breasts, knowing very well that he can feel her budded nipples through the wet material. A groan escapes his lips.

"Bedroom. Now," he whispers in her ear, causing the butterflies in her stomach to become liquid heat just a little bit lower. Nodding, she pulls him forward by his belt loops, as he kisses down her neck. They nearly fall on the couch and George pushes her against the hallway wall before they reaching her room, which makes her think he's grown too impatient to wait until they reach her bedroom—not that she's complaining—but they finally reach her room and she guides them through the doorway.

"You never gave me that third reason," she mutters as she works on removing his trousers.

"Three," he mutters huskily against her ear. "I want you. Now and forever."

Then he slams her bedroom door shut.