A/N: This is the last chapter before the Epilogue. :-( I know, I'm sad to see it end as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you, all you wonderful people who've reveiwed. Ya'll really encouraged me and I think you're part of the reason I've been able to write it this fast. :-D So give yourselves a pat on the back and have a cookie. You're all fantastic! hugs

Oh yeah, I hope you all like fluffiness, cuz there's going to be a LOT in this chapter and the Epilogue. ;-) :-P

Chapter 13/Winter Proposals

Over the summer and fall months George grew steadily healthier and more confident. With the help of his family, Lee Jordan, and me, he slowly became at least three-quarters of what he had been before Fred had died. Ron had moved in as his roommate and I could see that made a difference. There were still moments when I caught a glimpse of pain flicker across his eyes, but Ron or I were quick to say something to help him get through it.

George helped me through my pain too. Although he didn't have Charlie's strong arms to feel safe in, and he didn't have Charlie's deep, reassuring voice, he knew things about me I had never told Charlie. He knew what my boggart was, he knew that I was afraid of fire, he knew how much I hurt on Cedric's birthday, and he knew how I liked listening to the heartbeats of my friends. He held a special place in my heart.

I continued to write to Charlie however, believing that a strong friendship such as ours should not be negated. He seemed glad that I was finally helping George along and he encouraged me in every letter. It took a while for Ginny to come around after I apologized to her, but now she grinned as brightly as before.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes seemed much brighter now that George managed the store from the front. He even laughed once when I had to chase a little boy who was trying to steal a Pygmy Puff. Then the Puff got away and we had to close the shop while we searched for it. I don't think I that much fun since I sat in on that Potterwatch session.

It felt so good to see George laughing again. His face had filled out nicely and he now practiced Quidditch with Ron some days so his toned arms and chest fit well with his lean form. He would never have quite the stocky frame had had been before; his close death by starvation took care of that. But he didn't care. He was healthy now, that's all that mattered.

The only thing from his depressed state that stayed was the worry lines on his forehead. It made him look older than his twenty-one years, but as soon as he smiled, you could tell he was still young at heart. I loved it when he smiled. It told me that everything would be all right now.

Wintertime came and with it Christmas. I had been invited to the Burrow for Christmas Eve. The shop closed early, being one of the busiest days of the year (why anyone would want to buy presents at the last minute along with half of the country is beyond me). Taking George's hand firmly in mine, with Ron holding tightly to my other, I spun on the spot, concentrating on the sitting room of the Burrow. I felt the sucking pull behind my navel and suddenly we were whooshed into the middle of our destination. Ron looked slightly green.

"I know I've done that a million times," he said. "But why couldn't we have just taken the Floo Network?"

"It involves fire." Both George and I answered at the same time. I gave him a smile.

Ron nodded sheepishly. "Oh, right."

Ginny came hurtling out of the kitchen, covered with flour. She threw her arms around first George then me then Ron. She was grinning broadly as she stepped back. A spot of flour rested on her cheek. Harry came into the room, looking for Ginny. His eyes lit up when he saw her and I smiled inwardly although my chest was aching. Fred had once looked at me like that before his eyes glazed over in death. No one else had since.

Harry stepped up to Ginny and lovingly wiped away the spot on her cheek. Ginny suddenly seemed to forget we were there and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, kissing him fiercely. Ron looked indignant and George and I had to force him out of the room. We ended up in the kitchen were a large pile of freshly baked cookies lay strewn out on the table. Ron immediately forgot about Ginny and Harry and dove for the treats. George soon followed. I rolled my eyes.

After they had inhaled about five each, Molly came into the kitchen and slapped their hands away from a sixth.

"Those are for the party tonight!" She scolded.

She turned to open the refrigerator and George swiped two more cookies when her back was turned. Ron tried to do the same but he was too slow. Molly rounded on him and waved her arms.

"OUT! OUT I SAY!" She screeched.

George grinned at Ron's despondent state as he scampered out of the kitchen. I couldn't help but grin back.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Molly?" I asked.

She turned to me, a smile suddenly on her face. "Oh no, dear," she said sweetly, "I've got everything under control."

She turned to a mixing bowl and added something to it. George raised his eyebrows at me and dangled the two cookies he had swiped in front of him. I stifled a giggle. Sneaking out of the kitchen together, we skirted past Ginny and Harry who were in deep conversation and made our way out the door and into the garden. Hermione smiled at me while Ron picked a handful of powdery snow and crunched it into a snowball. Then he threw it. It went in a short arch before it landed right on top of Hermione's head. She looked stunned then laughed.

I watched in amusement as Hermione picked up some snow and began a snowball fight between her and Ron. I hadn't thought she would do something like this. But then again, she was not as uptight as she used to be. George waved a cookie in front of my face. I took and smiled at him. He bit into his and grinned, crumbs falling out of his mouth and into the corners of his lips and onto his chin and sweater. I suddenly had to fight the urge to wipe them off his face. Where had that come from? Instead I touched my own mouth and chin indicating where he had them. He understood and smeared the crumb covered half of his face on his sweater sleeve.

I bit into my own cookie and then wished I hadn't. Cinnamon exploded in my mouth and the sweetness embedded itself into my tongue and in the corners of my teeth. Cinnamon. I breathed in the scent deeply, lowering my eyelids in bittersweet bliss. Fred. He had tasted somewhat like this. Sweet yet with a slight tang, like cinnamon.

Someone touched my arm and I looked up through bleary vision at George. He smiled sadly, knowing exactly what I was thinking.

"Cinnamon's better than Hippogriff poo." He stated in a serious voice.

I had to laugh. Yes, it was a good thing poo didn't remind me of Fred. George touched my shoulder gently. I could see he wanted to say something and waited expectantly.

"Angie," he said softly, "I—"

Three loud cracks coming in quick succession interrupted him, and Bill, Fleur, and Charlie Apparated into the garden. Turning away from George I dropped my cookie in a squeal as Charlie ran up and grabbed me around the waist, spinning me around. When he set be back down I could not rid the silly grin that had planted itself on my face.

"I take it you're glad to see me?" I asked.

Charlie's smile widened. "You know I am," he said sincerely.

It was then that I noticed something flicker in his eyes that made me uneasy. I tried to shake off the feeling. Of course Charlie Weasley wasn't looking at me in that way. We were like brother and sister, best friends. I heard George inhale sharply and looked over at him. He had gone slightly pale and was staring at Charlie. More specifically Charlie's eyes. Had he seen the same thing I had?

Charlie stepped back and turned to his younger brother. His eyes scrutinized the one-eared twin as he took in George's appearance. When he was done he smiled and I knew he approved.

"You're looking well, George. How are you feeling?"

"Better," George admitted.

Charlie clapped him on the shoulder. "Good to hear, little brother."

As we walked into the house with Bill and Fleur in tow, Ron and Hermione waved but continued playing in the snow. Seeing two nineteen-year-olds cavorting around in the white powder made me smile. They had had a rough school year; they deserved to have some fun.

I noticed as we stepped into the house and stomped the snow off our boots, that all of the Weasleys had become more affectionate as of late. Molly still blew her top sometimes, but not as often. Ginny had always been the pet of the family, but I could see them making efforts to display love on Ron now also. Of course, it had almost always been the twins who would insult their siblings, most of the time Fred with George echoing. They had still all loved each other of course, only now they showed it more openly.

The Christmas tree in the sitting room was covered with homemade ornaments. It was slightly homely looking, but I could see the love that had been placed in each stitch of each decoration. That in itself made the tree the most beautiful I had ever seen.

I was standing there staring at it, with my arms crossed over my chest, when I felt two large hands grasp my upper arms gently and chapped, blistered lips kiss the top of my head. I smiled slightly.

"Your mother kick you out of the kitchen, Charlie?"

"Not exactly," came the answer.

I turned to face up, looking up into his brown eyes. "Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you . . . alone."

Something in his tone made me want to run away. My feet stayed where they were however. I took a deep breath and lifted my arms to indicate the space around us.

"Well, we're alone."

He smiled slightly. "Not really, someone could walk in on us at any moment. Let's go to the clearing."

I thought for a moment. I trusted Charlie completely, but if I needed to get away quickly, I could just Disapparate. I nodded. Taking my hand, Charlie spun on the spot and with that uncomfortable jerk we were suddenly in the clearing. Charlie dropped my hand and strode a few paces away. I watched him closely. His broad shoulders shook as he took a deep breath. When he turned back to me, his face was serious and his eyes were tender.

I suddenly grew cold as I realized what was about to happen. But how could it have happened? Had I said anything? Done anything to make him want to pour out his heart to me? He would only get hurt. I had to stop him. I had to—

"Angela." He was standing right in front of me, one hand clasping mine, the other pushing back my hair. "I know we've only known each other for a couple of years. One and a half if you want to be technical. But I feel like I've known you for ages."

My heart ached. I opened my mouth to interrupt him but he placed a calloused finger over my lips.

"Just hear me out, please. Your letters to me always made me feel alive; I always looked forward to hearing from you. I could hear your voice in my mind as I read them. I counted the days until I could see you again. I'm not sure exactly when these feelings for you began, but it didn't matter. All I had to do was look into your shining eyes and I was mesmerized."

I groaned inwardly. Why, oh why did this have to happen? I could say nothing however. I could do nothing. I could only wait until he stopped. His hand brushed through my hair and down to my back. I shivered involuntarily. There was no denying that he was handsome, and strong of character, and it would be easy to fall in love with him. But that just wasn't how I saw him and it didn't seem right.

"I love you, Angela Barry," his voice was gentle, tender. He gathered me in his arms and pressed his lips against my forehead. "I know that it seems sudden but . . ."

He stepped back and fished in his pocket. I held my breath, my lips, nose, and ears stinging in the frosty weather. Out came a small velvet box. My breath left me in a whoosh. I noticed that his hand shook slightly as he held out the box, kneeling in the snow. I could only stare at him. He took a deep breath.

"Angela Barry, I know that I'm more than a couple years older than you and could hardly be called wealthy, but I would love you more than air and take care of you like the treasure you are." Charlie opened the box revealing a simple diamond ring. He smiled ruefully. "I know it isn't a large diamond, but believe me when I say that I put my whole heart into finding it. Angela Barry, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

I opened my mouth then closed it. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes. How had this happened? I didn't mean for it to. But he was so sincere and I knew that every word he had spoken to me was the truth. He loved me. He really did love me.

"Charlie . . ." my voice failed me.

I reached out and picked up the ring from its place among the satin. Holding it in my hand, I stared down at it. Charlie stood and closed my fingers around the ring.

"You don't have to give me your answer right away," he said gently. "I understand this might be sudden for you. Just think about it." His lips twitched. "Put it on if your answer is yes."

I could only nod dumbly, still staring at my hand. A calloused finger lifted my chin and then I was looking up into Charlie's intense gaze. He ran his finger from my temple down to my mouth and traced my lips delicately. Then he leaned down and chapped, blistered lips covered mine. I was too shocked to resist.

His kiss was not like Draco's or Fred's. It was gentle yes and not aggressive, but firm, as if he were making a statement. It was matter-of-fact. His fingers slipped through my hair but I could not kiss him back. I only stood there as his mouth pressed decisively against mine. When he pulled away he did not seem to notice my lack of reciprocation.

I knew I should say something, but looking up into his face, glowing with love and happiness, I couldn't. I only gave him a weak smile and took his hand as we Disapparated. When we arrived in the sitting room, I excused myself and ran to find Ginny. I found her up in her room, laying on her bed and humming softly as she flipped through a book about Quidditch.

I shut the door behind me and approached her.

"Ginny," I said, "I need to talk to you."

She turned around and looked up at me questioningly. I held out the hand that still held the ring. She stared at it blankly a moment before smiling brightly.

"He finally asked you!" She squealed.

I sighed and sank down onto the bed. "I can't marry him, Ginny."

She looked confused. "Why not? I thought—"

I shook my head. "I don't love him like that, Ginny."

She frowned. "I thought that surely—"

"Yes, I know. He's sweet, handsome, strong, and romantic. But I've only ever seen him as my older brother. I can't believe how I led him on." I paused. "Maybe he misread something in my letters . . ."

Ginny looked very confused now. "Why did you write letters to him? Was that part of your plan to get him to talk to you?"

Now I was the one confused. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about my letters to Charlie."

Realization seemed to dawn on her. "Charlie? He asked you to marry him?"

"Yes," I frowned at her. "Who did you think I was talking about?"

She ignored my question. "What happened exactly?"

I exhaled loudly. "He took me to the clearly and proposed. Then he said he would wait while I thought about it." I paused a moment before continuing. "Then he kissed me."

Ginny's light brown eyes widened like tea saucers. "Did you kiss him back?"

I shook my head. "I couldn't! I mean, it wasn't like it was a bad kiss. It was enjoyable. But . . ."

"No fireworks?"

"Exactly. And his lips were chapped and blistered so it felt a bit strange. But I can't really hold that against him. I mean he works with dragons and fire does that to you." I was babbling. I shut up.

Ginny nodded slowly. "So, what are you going to do?"

I glanced sidelong at her. "Well, what do you think I should do?"

Ginny sighed and ran her hand through her long, fiery hair.

"Angela, I would love for you to become my sister-in-law. But I can't tell you who to marry. That's your decision."

"But before, when you thought I was talking about someone else, who was it?"

Ginny turned back to her book. "You're on your own with this one, Angela. I'm sorry."

I growled in frustration. When Ginny didn't turn back, I stormed out of the room. The party would start in a couple of hours. I would have to tell Charlie then. I felt terrible about it, but I just couldn't marry him. Something just didn't seem right.

Skirting past Ron and Hermione, who were talking in the sitting room, holding hands and looking very cozy, and Mrs. Weasley, who was still in the kitchen making our Christmas Eve dinner, I made my way out to the garden where I could think in peace about what I was going to say to Charlie.

It was twilight, the sun setting behind snow laden trees. Pink and gold shimmered in the snow at my feet and on the fence-posts. It all looked picturesque and beautiful. It took my breath away.

I was still clutching the ring in my hand and I stared at it, turning it around and around in front of my eyes. It really was beautiful. I shut my eyes at the inner pain that coursed through me. How would he take it? I didn't think I could bear to see his soft brown eyes full of hurt.

"So it's true," a tight voice from my right caused me to open my eyes. I turned around and saw George, shivering slightly in the snow. I frowned slightly.

"What?"

He stepped closer, glaring at the ring in my hand. "He asked you."

I glanced at the ring and slowly lowered my hand to my side, clutching it tightly. "What of it?"

"You can't marry him, Angie."

I already knew that but hearing him speak my thoughts with such coldness made me become defensive. I crossed my arms.

"And what gives you the right to say that?" I asked, angrily.

He hesitated, seemingly regretting his words. Then he growled softly, almost to himself.

"You said you wouldn't leave me," he said finally.

I gave a short, harsh laugh. "Marrying Charlie wouldn't make me leave you. You'd still have me."

"It's not the same," he said in a low voice, stepping closer.

I stepped back slightly. I knew everything he was saying was true, but for some reason I argued. I grew angry, defensive. For no reason I snapped, "What do you care? It's not like you've ever loved me like that, you barely spoke to me all year. You avoided me. You hated me!"

I instantly wanted to take it back. But it was too late. Something flashed behind George's eyes.

"Is that what you think?" He shouted.

He whipped out his wand and I flinched involuntarily, suddenly afraid. I was shocked therefore, when he cried, "Expecto Patronum!"

A slender, silver unicorn leaped from the tip of his wand. I gaped openly as it looked at me a moment before galloping away. Shutting my mouth slowly I turned to face George. His expression was suddenly tender.

"How long?" I croaked softly, unable to believe what I had just seen.

He stepped forward and raised a hand to my cheek. His fingers brushed against it and a shiver went up my spine.

"Ever since that day in the Great Hall, when me and Fred talked you out of killing yourself. You placed your ear over my heart and something happened. I can't explain it."

"Why didn't you say something?" I breathed, my mind still trying to wrap around the fact that George loved me.

A sad smile tugged at George's lips. "You were with Malfoy. And I knew Fred had feelings for you too. I never told him. I was always the more passive twin. I let him fall in love with you. He deserved you more than I did.

"And that is why I couldn't look at you this past year. Why I avoided you. I thought that I shouldn't try to pursue a relationship with you so soon after Fred's death. We were both too emotional and I felt it would be an insult to Fred. You were Fred's girl in my mind, and so you became taboo. So I kept away, not touching you, not talking. Trying desperately to still the feelings inside of me."

Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as understanding flooded over me. Many things made sense now. Ginny's comments, George's hesitation to tell me Fred's Patronus, his quiet encouragements. It all fit. He loved me just as much as Fred had; only he had shown it differently. In the little things: The hugs, the smiles, the tarts, the forgiveness. How could I have been so blind to it?

He stepped closer still, his breath now warming my frozen cheeks. I stood still, one question still hovering around my tongue. I let it out slowly.

"Why now?"

He grasped my hand and opened it slowly in between us. The ring Charlie had given shone softly in the fading light. George touched it with a hesitant finger.

"When I heard, I knew I could not let you make your decision without knowing my true feelings." His gaze moved from the ring to my eyes and the tenderness in it made my heart flutter. "I love you, Angie. More than you'll probably ever know." He dropped my hand. "I just needed for you to know before. . . ."

He moved to turn away. I grabbed his arm. He turned back, looking slightly apprehensive. I pocked the ring and shook my head slowly.

"George, I love Charlie like a brother. Nothing more. I'm afraid he has proposed to the wrong girl. I don't share his feelings."

George looked surprised. "But I thought—that day in the storeroom—"

I took his hand slowly. "I was simply thanking him for his gift."

His face was so close, I felt mine heat up. Strange sensations filled me and shocked me. Never had I felt this way about George. It hadn't seemed possible. But here those feelings were, hovering beneath my skin, longing to jump out. He took my face in his hands and stroked my cheek gently. My breath caught in my throat.

Slowly he leaned over, brushing his lips against mine. He hesitated and drew back slightly before moving forward again. This time his lips stayed longer on mine but it still seemed hesitant, as if he was not sure. I lifted my arms to around his neck and smoothly pushed his head towards me, locking his mouth over mine. His arms encircled my waist and my fingers dug into his flaming hair. Electricity jolted through my veins. A growing flame burned in my chest.

I pressed myself against him, letting my senses fly out the window. His confidence grew then and our kiss became passionate. Our mouths searched each other heatedly. It was not gentle and sweet like Fred's, nor was it firm and factual like Charlie's. It was not aggressive and controlling like Malfoy's, it was something else all together. It was heaven.

We pulled away far too soon for my liking, but Molly had started calling from the kitchen that supper was being served. I looked up into George's eyes and his lips curled in a smile.

"Do you want to tell her? Or should I?"

I laughed slightly. "I think I should tell Charlie first."

George nodded solemnly. "Poor bloke."

I sighed and dropped my arms from around his neck. "I still don't know what to say."

"Give him his ring back and say 'I'm sorry, but I prefer peanuts to sulfur.'"

"Peanuts?" I asked, slightly confused.

George's smile widened. "Yeah. Remember? Fred was cinnamon, I was peanuts."

I remembered now. I grinned. "Good thing I like peanuts, huh?"

He took my hand and held it tightly. "Good thing indeed."

0000000

To say that the family was surprised by our announcement would be untrue. In fact it was almost as if they expected it. I had spoken to Charlie beforehand, giving him back his ring and trying to ignore the hurt look he gave me.

"But, I thought—"

"I know," I said apologetically, "and I'm sorry it had to be this way. I love you, I really do. But as a brother, nothing else."

He ran his large, calloused hand through his hair. And then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

"You're eyes are shining. George finally come through?"

I started in surprise. "How'd you—how could you—what?"

His strong shoulders shook as he threw back his head with laughter. "That boy has been pining after you for the longest. I knew it was only a matter of time." He sobered then. "Just my luck you had to feel the same for him, huh?"

I flushed slightly. "I'm sorry."

He patted my arm. "Don't be. I was just being my usual reckless self. I really spend too much time around those dragons." He looked down at me intensely. "Just as long as you don't hate me or anything, I'm okay with you marrying my brother. I don't want any awkwardness around us."

I nodded slowly. "Do you think things could go back the way it used to be between us?"

Charlie pondered this a moment. "I don't think things could ever completely go back. My feelings for you are strong, Angela. But I will make the effort."

I smiled and hugged him briefly. "Thank you, Charlie. For understanding."

"Happy Christmas, Angela."

Ginny practically screamed with joy when George and I told the rest of the family. Molly had tears in her eyes and Mr. Weasley was smiling fondly at us. Bill grinned widely and Fleur beamed. Percy sniffed.

"I'd say it was about time," he said stiffly, but his eyes were twinkling.

Then Ron chose that moment to step forward, with Hermione on his arm. The room grew quiet as he cleared his throat nervously. His ears were pink.

"Mum, Dad," he began. "Hermione and I—"

Ginny's squeal cut him off. Hermione held up her left hand, a diamond ring sparkling on her finger. George tightened his grip on my fingers. I looked up at him. He was grimacing.

"What?" I whispered as the rest of the Weasley family congratulated their youngest son.

"I forgot about the ring," he whispered back. He turned to me, his eyes wide with panic.

I laughed and reached up, brushing my lips against his. "We can deal with that later. Tonight, let's just have a Happy Christmas."

He pulled me into a hug and held me tightly, burying his nose in my hair. I rested my ear above his heart and listened to its quick beat.

"I love you, Angie."

I smiled. "I love you too, Georgie."

He snickered softly. I snuggled closer in his arms and sighed contentedly. So this is love. I found it was perfectly beautiful.

A/N: So yeah, sorry all you Charlie/Angela fans. The George/Angie pairing has been in my head ever since Fred died in the book and I could not convince myself otherwise :-P Don't forget that reviews make me feel happy! And you always want a happy author. ;-) :-P