I love the concept of domestic George Weasley so this chapter kind of came from that. Also, I feel like George and Lydia kind of move quickly in their relationship, but it's just how the story worked out. I wanted to show how easily it is to get close to someone who understands your pain.

Mum woke me up the next morning at eight o'clock and I had to bite my tongue to keep in my complaints. Instead, I made my way to the bathroom and showered while mum made breakfast downstairs. It was just easier to go along with her when she was in holiday mode.

We got in her car and headed into muggle town after we ate, a place I hadn't been in way too long. It was always decorated to look like a village out of a Christmas movie. There was music playing all through the shopping village along with carolers standing outside in decade dress. I loved how over the top the entire country of England was whenever it came to Christmas.

"So, I need to get things for Sam, John, Alex, and your father," mum said as we parked the car and started walking through the village. "What about you?"

I got all my family's presents from Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley already, but I wondered if I was supposed to get something for George. Were the two of us technically boyfriend and girlfriend? And if we were, what was I supposed to get for him?

"Mum, can I ask you a question without you reading too much into it?" I asked as we went into a store together.

"You can ask me anything, love," she answered absentmindedly, not looking away from the list in her hand.

"If I've been seeing a guy for a week or so, do I need to get him a Christmas gift?" I asked in a rushed breath before bracing myself for her reaction.

"You've been seeing someone and didn't tell me?!" she shrieked, making a couple of people look over at us. "Lydia Elizabeth, what's his name? What does he look like? Is he good to you?"

"Mum, slow down. I asked you to not read too much into it," I hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her further into the store so people would stop staring at us. "His name is George, he helped me plan the prank I mentioned at dinner the other night."

"George, sounds posh," she complimented, her shopping forgotten in lieu of my possible love interest. "How long exactly have the two of you been together?"

This was the embarrassing question. We'd been together for a little over a week and only hung out three or so times. How do you tell your mom about the deep connection you have with a boy you've only been seriously talking to for a week? Something told me she wouldn't think it was as sweet as I did when he told me about all the times he noticed me while we were in Hogwarts or about how much we bonded because of our war scars.

"Not that long, but I think we'll still be together on Christmas," I replied, being a vague as possible. "Am I supposed to get him something big or a small thing?"

"How well do you know George? Do you know the things he likes?" she asked, grabbing one of the books Sam asked for off the shelf and tossing it into the trolley.

"He owns a joke shop and loves making people laugh," I replied without thinking, an absentminded smile on my lips.

She said something in response, but a box on the shelf caught my eye. It was a magic kit for children, one a couple of my brothers had growing up. The thought of giving it to someone who had actual magic was hilarious; I thought George would also get a kick out of it so I grabbed one and put it in our trolley.

Mum just shook her head and went on with her shopping, realizing she would probably never make sense of the present purchase. Even if I explained it to her, I doubt she would find it as funny as I did. I just hoped George did.

…

Almost a week passed when a now familiar owl knocked on our kitchen window. I got up from my place at the table to let him in, recognizing George's messy scrawl as I removed the parcel from his claw.

Lydia,

I'm going to go ahead and mention how much I miss you, even if I say it in every letter I send. It's been far too long since you've graced me with your presence, and I can only go so long without your pink cheeks and utter sexiness. I can only imagine how adorable you look right now after you read that.

I know you're probably bouncing off the walls because Christmas is drawing so near, which brings me to the other reason I'm writing. My parents have this annual dinner as the holiday draws nearer and it seems that I'm the only one without a date for said dinner. This may be a bit too soon or too forward, but I know you'll point it out if you agree so I'm going to go ahead and ask. Do you want to be my date?

Just send a response via Boom like always. It's okay if you say no, I understand.

Awkwardly,

George

The awkward tone of the letter made me smile and clutch the parchment to my chest like a lovesick schoolgirl. He wanted me to come to a family dinner as his date, he wanted me to meet his family. It was good to know I wasn't the only one interested in this relationship.

The two of us have been together for almost a month now, but I don't think we were necessarily boyfriend and girlfriend just yet. We hadn't seen each other in person since we went shopping to decorate his flat. He wasn't the only one that missed seeing each other…

I got up from the table and grabbed a couple of Penelope's biscuits before going on the search for Boom in the empty house. Mum and dad were both at work so it was just me here alone. I heard twittering and found him being groomed by Penelope in my room. I guess I forgot to mention that our owls really adored each other, it was the sweetest thing.

I gave the biscuits to Boom and headed back into the kitchen to write a response to George. My parchment was sitting in the living room, but I'd forgot to pack a quill before I came home so I used a regular pen. It enthralled George to no end how perfect the ink looked and bonded with his father over it, but that was a secret between the two of us.

George,

You're inviting me to meet your family already? I'm quite scandalized but appreciative of the compliments. I also miss you more than I probably should, Mr. Weasley. And not just because of your utter sexiness… but maybe because you're holey…

I am bouncing off every surface I come in contact with and I'm pretty sure my parents are working extra hours to get away from me. My brothers will probably just make fun of me for it, but I can't seem to rein myself in when it comes to Christmas.

Back to the dinner invitation, I would love to go with you. I'm also quite fond of you being the awkward one for once, it's good to know I'm not the only one who can embarrass themselves.

Just give me a time and location, and I'll be there with bells on.

Adoringly so,

Lydia

I waited until Penelope and Boom were finished playing and he was rested up to send the response. I needed to pick the perfect outfit for this dinner, I really wanted to impress his family. I knew the ones from school, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

I was in the middle of icing the Christmas biscuits I made for mum's class the next day when I heard the Floo roar in the living room. My heart stopped beating entirely before galloping to life a second later. No one used that except for me…who was here?

I grabbed my wand from the table and crept around the wall between the kitchen and living room silently. With a disarming spell on the tip of my tongue, I swung around and nearly peed myself when I saw George Weasley standing in the middle of my house. I collapsed back against the wall in relief, my entire body getting tingly with the release of adrenaline.

"What's wrong, 'puff?" he asked, walking over to me and pulling my body to his chest easily. When he realized how upset I was, he pressed a kiss to my head and said, "Whoa, Lydia, I didn't mean to scare you. I can feel your heart."

I shook my head where it rested on my hands against his chest. "I'm just jumpy when it comes to magic in the muggle world. I don't really have any friends who have magic so no one ever uses the Floo aside from me unless it's an emergency."

Mentioning the War wasn't necessary, George understood what I meant when I said emergency. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to surprise you and talk about the dinner I feel like I hoodwinked you into."

That made me pull out of his embrace enough to look him in the eye. "Stop that right now, we both know I wouldn't agree to one thing I didn't want to do."

He grinned at my outburst and said, "There's my girl, I missed your spice."

"Speaking of spice, I was in the middle of making biscuits for my mum's students when you so rudely almost gave me a heart attack," I told him, moving out of his embrace and going back into the kitchen with him on my heels.

"You're decorating the biscuits by hand? Like, without magic?" he asked in surprise, looking at the one that was already decorated.

I gestured to the separate icing bags sitting on the counter. "Yes, it's so much fun. Come on, I'll show you how."

I watched as he tugged off his jumper, laying it across the back of one of the chairs at the table. He was wearing a normal muggle t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and clung to his biceps. I hadn't realized quite how built he was until this moment and I was very appreciative.

"If you're finished checking me out, there are biscuits to decorate, 'puff," he grinned, making me flush and whirl around to grab a sweet to decorate.

He came up behind me, his heat soaking into me as he wrapped his arms around me. I swallowed down my nerves and took his hands in mine, showing him how to decorate the biscuit with the icing baggie. My hands didn't shake and I did a victory dance in my head, and felt my heart give a squeeze when I realized HIS hands were shaking under mine. I was making him nervous this time.

"Why so shaky, Georgie?" I asked in a hopefully seductive voice, stroking my pinky over his wrist and watching him grip the sweet too hard it broke in his hands. "Oh no, you ruined it. Now what are we going to do?"

He tossed the crumbs onto the cookie sheet and twisted me around, lifting me up onto a clean span of counter. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to mine, kissing him fiercely before he had the chance to take control of it. This was so much better than icing sweets.

His hands were trying to hold my hips, but my jumper was too baggy for him to get a grip. Instead of moving them someplace else, I felt him fiddling with the bottom hem of it. He was waiting for me to give him permission to slide his hands underneath and it would've been endearing if I wasn't turned on.

There was some scarring on my left side where his hands would no doubt wander, and they were worse than the ones he'd already seen on my arm. Even if he wouldn't be seeing it necessarily, it was still a big thing for me to expose them. They didn't feel like the rest of my skin and I'm sure he could tell the difference.

"You can touch me, just remember there are scars," I breathed out raggedly, leaning my forehead against his as I tried to catch my breath and calm down my nerves.

He let out a shaky breath and shook his head, "We've been over this, baby. You're so beautiful, it doesn't matter. I swear."

He'd never called me baby before, no one had ever called me baby before. The wild thought stripping off my jumper washed over me, but I squelched it down. Instead, I moved my hands from his hair and placed them over his as I slid them underneath the top because he seemed a bit timid to do it himself.

His fingers were light and gentle as they traced over the scars on my hip and side as his lips pressed against my neck. I linked my ankles together and placed them under his butt, pulling him closer and making him laugh ruggedly against my skin.

"I'm assuming you're George?" my mum's voice rang through the kitchen and made my head flop back down from where it rested against the cupboards.

Unfortunately, that meant it hit George's and his teeth pushed harder than he meant against my skin. I yelped and dropped my legs from his waist, reaching up to feel if there was any blood. Thankfully, he didn't break the skin, but I'm sure there would be a monster hickey there by morning.

"Uh, yeah, I'm George," he said, running a hand through his hair nervously as he took a step back from me and make it look like we hadn't just been caught making out in the kitchen. "It's nice to meet you."

He took my mother's outstretched hand with little embarrassment. "I'm Shelly, it's nice to meet you even if this wasn't the ideal way of doing so."

George nodded, but I saw how thrown off he was by us getting caught. Even if he was a goofball, he was still very polite whenever it came to elders. The last thing he wanted was my mum to think lowly of him. It was probably tearing him up inside that the first time they met had been under such inappropriate conditions.

I hopped off the counter and moved back over to the pile of biscuits. "How were the kids today? Are they excited for the party tomorrow?"

"They were practically bouncing off the walls after lunch," she replied, trying to defuse the situation. "So, George, have you ever decorated biscuits by hand before?"

"I can't say that I have," he replied, barely missing a beat. "But I would love to help."

He made his way back over to where I was standing except he was beside me instead of behind me this time. There was still tension between us, but mum had splashed water on our wildfire from earlier. Thankfully, by the time we'd decorated a couple we were playful and fun instead of desperate and needy like earlier.

"Look at that, maybe I'm a good teacher after all," I remarked, gesturing to one of the snowflakes George finished decorating. "You're as good with your hands as you are with your wand, I'm impressed."

He snorted and made me realize the sexual double meaning my words carried. The last thing I expected was for him to slap my ass cheekily with my mother in the room with us. I squeaked in surprise, looking around wildly in search of my mother.

"She left the room about ten minutes ago," he whispered, giving my butt a cheeky squeeze this time before going back to the snowman sitting in front of him. "And you look really sexy when you're concentrating, baby."

There was the pet name again and it did similar things to my insides, making me pour too many sprinkles onto my Christmas tree. He chuckled at my mistake, moving closer to me and kissing behind my ear teasingly before nipping at my earlobe and standing back up straight.

"Did you have a reason for visiting me or was the distance proving to be too much?" I asked playfully, bumping our hips after I calmed my heart back down from his teasing.

"I needed to tell you details about the dinner and used it as an excuse to come see you," he answered easily. "Kissing you was an added detail that made it even better."

"So, what details had to be shared face to face?" I asked, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

He told me about the location and the time, but it just seemed overly complicated to get there. "Do you mind if I just stay with you the night before? I don't think I could get there if I tried, my Apparating is shabby at best."

There I went again asking things with sexual undertones without meaning to. Instead of making a remark about it, he turned to look at me fully. His shirt had green icing on the side from where I'd hit him with it earlier when he made fun of how I decorated one of my candy canes, but I was far from laughing. His eyes were serious, something I've rarely ever seen from him.

"Lydia, I don't want you to do something you're not comfortable with because you think it's what I want," he told me once our eyes met in the empty kitchen.

"George, I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't comfortable with the idea of spending the night with you. I didn't necessarily attach any sexual connotations to that, I just thought I'd have trouble finding your parents' house," I explained, suddenly finding the color of my toes pretty interesting.

"Hey, 'puff, look at me," he said quietly, tucking a finger under my chin and tilting my face up to look at him. "I like it when you're confident like that, I don't ever mean to make you second guess yourself. I would love for you to stay with me, even if it means I'm sleeping on the couch or the floor or even standing up if it's what you want."

I hugged his middle tight, grinning when I felt him hug me back just as tightly. "I like it when you call me baby."

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