We have officially ran out of pre-written chapters for this story! From now on, I will have to write the chapters before I post them. I'm glad we reached this point, I couldn't have done it without you all.

I woke up nervous Wednesday morning with dinner on my mind. My family had to adore George as much as I did, they were both too important to me to hate each other. To keep my nerves at bay, I helped mum cook and wrapped presents with dad for a couple hours to distract my mind from dinner.

"Seeing as Lydia is bringing her boyfriend to dinner, I figure I should tell you guys that my girlfriend wants to meet you," Alex said, running a hand over his hair before pulling his beanie back on. "She's really cool, way too cool for me, but I want you guys to meet her… I guess."

"Little brother, you've got a boyfriend?" I asked, nerves temporarily forgotten. "That's so great! I can't wait to meet her!"

"How'd you hype yourself up enough to meet George's family?" he asked, chewing his bottom lip as the others went back to doing their own thing. "Was it terrifying? Because she wants me to meet hers first."

"That's putting it lightly, bud. His family is also huge, even bigger than ours," I told him honestly. "I just really cared about him and knew how important his family was to him. That didn't make it any less nerve-wracking, it went fine though. If she's half as amazing as you say, her family must be pretty great, too."

That seemed to calm his frazzled nerves if only for the moment. I hugged him and felt him relax in my embrace as he laid his head on top of mine. A thing I forgot to mention about my family, they're all taller than me –quite a feat considering I'm 5'6. It was probably comical to see my brother who was five years younger than me basically tower over me.

"I'll run interference if things start getting bad tonight," he whispered during our hug. "Don't worry, I've got your back."

I headed back to the kitchen after we parted and loaded the dishwasher. Mum was busy slaving over dinner and dad was ignoring the entire situation by sitting in his chair in the living room. I guess things could be a lot worse.

About an hour before George was supposed to be here, I went upstairs to get ready. I curled my hair and did my makeup the muggle way to take up more time. The last thing I wanted was to be twiddling my thumbs for twenty minutes. That would not be good, free time gave me more than enough time to completely dissect what was about to happen and send myself into a fit.

"I'll get it!" Sam shouted and I knew that meant George was here.

I shoved my booties on my feet and ran down the stairs, my feet getting tangled up and throwing me forward on the very last one. Thankfully, Will grabbed my arm and righted me as Sam opened the door.

George was standing there with a bouquet of flowers and a nervous smile on his face. I pushed through my family and greeted him, taking the flowers so I could hug him. We'd only been apart for four days and I missed him like crazy.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, kissing my temple as we parted and he came into the house with us. Then he turned to address my family and he said, "Hi, I'm George."

"It's nice to see you again, George," mum said, stepping forward and hugging him. "Come in, come in!"

She led the way into the living room and George searched for my hand, lacing our fingers when he found it. The flowers had a charm on them to keep them fresh forever so I could put them wherever I wanted, but that wasn't my biggest concern at the moment. I wanted to protect him from my crazy family.

"I'm going to go finish dinner," mum said once we were all congregated in the living room. "Lydia, come with me, love. Let the boys bond."

I gave George's hand a reassuring squeeze before I followed her because I knew her invitation wasn't optional. Even if I wasn't, she was old-fashioned and wanted the men to bond without us there. I hated leaving him alone, but I trusted Alex to step in if things got too intense like he said he would this morning. I kissed George's cheek before winking and following my mum back into the kitchen.

"Your dad isn't going to do anything to hurt you, he just wants to make sure George is a good man. We thought we lost you, but then you started working at school and coming back slowly. Then you started seeing him and you're my little girl again," she explained as she sipped her wine. "I just don't want to see you fall into that depression again, poppet."

That was fair enough, I would probably feel the exact same way if I was in her position. I hugged her and whispered my thanks, then realized she was drinking alcohol. There was no delicate way to tell her we couldn't have that so I just jumped in.

"Mum, we can't have alcohol at dinner," I told her. "George is a recovering alcoholic. I don't think he'll mind it, but I don't want to overstep a boundary. Okay? I want him to feel comfortable and welcome."

She chugged the rest of her wine and put the bottle back in the fridge with a wink in my direction. Then she took the flowers and sat them next to the window over the sink, knowing at this point they were charmed to not wilt. I'm really glad she didn't ask about his stability or anything like that, but I'm sure it was because she realized we were both war survivors. Everyone handled pain differently.

The food got finished pretty soon after that and we set the table. Like he could see through the wall, Sam came in with the others trailing behind him. I met George's eyes and saw his nervousness evaporate. We sat down together with his hand resting on my knee and mine on top of it as mom explained what she'd made.

"It looks wonderful, Mrs. Duke," he smiled, his voice surprisingly steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "Thank you for the invitation."

"Of course," mum smiled, ladling carrots onto her plate. Then her smile turned teasing and she said, "Didn't I already ask you to call me Shelly?"

His cheeks flushed and he nodded, "I'm sorry, Shelly."

Things were a little stiff at first until everyone started telling George embarrassing stories about me. "You're telling me that she was even shyer before than she is now?"

"I remember when she, Sam, and Will were really little and we took them to see Santa," mum said, then saw the look of confusion on George's face so she explained, "Muggle children go and see a man dressed as Santa, sit on his lap for pictures, and tell him what they want for Christmas."

"Oh, I think I've seen that before in books," he replied, nodding in understanding.

"Well, Sam and Will did it just fine but not Lydia. She detested the idea of it and hung on to my skirt tails to avoid it," mum said, making me wince a little because I knew what was coming next. "I finally got her loose and sat her on his lap, only for her to turn around and be ill all over the poor man."

"What is it with you and getting sick, 'dia?" John asked, making me choke on my water. "Just curious."

"I had a very anxious stomach as a kid. I'm sorry," I finally replied, gathering my wits instead of remaining flustered. "Thankfully, I've gotten over that."

George squeezed my knee and I felt the tension in my shoulders almost immediately evaporate. He just had a calming effect on me and I was grateful for it in situations like this. Even if the stories were goofy, they were connecting my family with George and that was all that mattered.

I decided to spend the night with George seeing as the next day was Christmas Eve and it was going to be spent at home as well as the next day. My dad didn't seem very excited about the idea, but he never said anything about it. I'd already packed up my stuff before he got here because I'd planned on staying with him, so I sent George upstairs to get it so I could get a consensus about my family's opinions.

"So, out with it while we're alone," I said after I'd herded my entire family into the kitchen. "I want honesty. What do you think of George?"

"I think he's a cool dude," Sam said. "And he's cute, good on you, little sister."

"He's okay, for a bloke trying to date my sister anyway," John said, shrugging his shoulders.

That seemed to be all of my brothers' opinions of him, and it made a smile worm its way onto my lips. "Okay, dad, what do you think?"

He let out a breath and said, "He seems a bit stoic and I never would have seen you with someone like him. Your mother also said he has an alcohol problem, is that true?"

My eyes flashed over to mum instantly and saw her avoiding my gaze, a surefire sign she'd done what dad said. "No, he's been sober for two years. It's very unfair for you to judge him when you have no idea what he's been through, what either of us have been through."

"Lydia, I'm more concerned for you and your safety," my dad replied, ignoring everything I said. "I'm not trying to upset you, I just don't want you to get into a situation where you're in danger."

"I'm not in danger, dad. George would never hurt me," I replied with conviction. "We all deal with grief and sadness in different ways, but I am very proud of him for overcoming it. I wish you could see it that way. I know what it's like to be overwhelmed by so much that you don't know how to function and you just want it all to stop. Didn't you teach all of us to never, ever judge someone without knowing them first?"

My mum raised her eyebrows in surprise –I'd never been this vocal about anything in my entire life. I guess I was just very passionate about George and didn't want anyone to mark him out because of his trauma.

"I know you want the best for me and all that, I'm just disappointed by how you went about it," I sighed, turning on my heel and pushing out of the kitchen into the living room as George came loping down the stairs. "Hi, are you ready?"

He smiled and offered me his arm, making warmth fill me. I adored him so genuinely that it filled me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I buried myself in his embrace and wrapped my arms around his waist as he Apparated us out of my living room and into his flat.

"So, I'm all yours today," he grinned, looking down at me with happy eyes.

Instead of replying to him, I stood on my tiptoes so I could kiss him. Then I started walking us backward toward his bedroom. I wanted him and I wanted him right now, I just really hoped he wanted me back.

"Damn, 'puff, what's gotten into you?" he asked, pulling my dress off as he walked and tugging his sweater off next. "I love it, but I'm curious."

"I just want to be with you right now. Don't question when your girlfriend wants you," I replied, reaching behind me and unclasping my bra. "As long as you want it, too, let's do it."

"We'll talk about this sudden attraction after we have sex in multiple positions in multiple places 'round my flat," he replied, reaching down and picking me up so he could run the rest of the way to his room.

He'd just tossed me onto the bed, looking at me with adoration instead of lust and I realized I didn't actually want sex. I just wanted to feel the closeness that came with it, but being wrapped up in his arms sounded even better. I'm also pretty sure that was what he wanted, especially considering the way he kept looking at me.

"Okay, sudden change of plans because I want you to hold me," I admitted, biting my bottom lip coyly. "Then we can shag each other's brains out later. Deal?"

That made him laugh as he unbuttoned his shirt and took off his pants before getting into bed with me. "That sounds like the best idea you've had all day."

He pulled the duvet over us and I laid my head against his chest with the rest of my body pressed against him. He ran his fingers up and down my spine as I ran mine over his belly. Contentment filled my body until I remembered the argument I had with my dad earlier and I felt my mood immediately shift.

"What's wrong, baby? You got tense all of a sudden," he asked, tilting my head up so I had no choice but to look at him.

"It's nothing," I answered too quickly and saw him flash his eyes at me knowingly. "My entire family loves you, my dad is just a bit reluctant for me to be with someone who's been through the same war I went through."

"I thought I handled myself pretty well at dinner. What did I mess up?" he asked, trying to play nonchalant as he played with my hair but failing. "Or is it just your dad being overprotective and all that?"

I sighed and figured I should just be completely honest with him. "My mum was drinking wine and I asked her not to at dinner because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Before you say anything, I know you've been sober for two years and are strong, but I wanted today to be perfect. I never thought she'd tell my dad and he'd make a big deal out of it."

"Brilliant, your father thinks I'm a raging alcoholic. That's wonderful," he groaned, running a hand through his hair and sliding his other down to rest on my lower back. "I'm not upset with you, love. I know you did it to be kind, I just didn't want your family to know how damaged I am. No one wants their kid with someone like me."

I huffed and sat up, glaring down at him indignantly. "Stop that right now, I'm so proud of you for being sober. You worked through your 'damage' and came through on the other side. We all have issues, that doesn't mean you're a bad person."

He sighed and reached out for me, pulling me back to lay against his chest. We didn't talk again as he stroked his fingers up and down my back soothingly. I kissed below his collarbone and he practically hummed in contentment. Whatever inner strife he'd felt earlier was slowly melting away and making pride fill me up. I liked that I could also calm him down as much as he could calm me in stressful situations.

As we laid together, both awake but only our breath was the only sound in the room. I'd never been in love before, but this felt a whole lot like it. I wasn't sure enough to voice my feelings out loud. This warmth and safety I felt was the embodiment of love to me, but I was still afraid to tell him because it didn't seem like we'd been together long enough for something that intense to be said.

…right?

Truth bombs being dropped in the story!