A/N: Yes, I'm alive. And here's another tiny installment to this story, if anyone is still reading. I'm having huge amounts of trouble finishing this section of the story, since the tone shifts so dramatically all the time. I've been writing bits and pieces from different sections, but it's difficult to make them all flow together. I did get this little bit done, though, and while it's not perfect, it's better than nothing…right? If you're still reading, please let me know. Much love.

The Weasleys' small family room was covered in shiny scraps of gift wrap, and a fire crackled merrily on the hearth. Surrounded by new presents and chattering friends and family, Katie felt well-guarded from the notice of George, who was quite on the opposite side of the room. Whether he had chosen this position strategically, she didn't like to think. The only thing really giving her any distress at the moment was the still unopened package tucked away beneath her pile of unwrapped gifts. She knew it was from George, and thought it was best if she drew as little attention to the pair of them as possible. She couldn't afford another incident like the one in the kitchen earlier. She would have to open it later, perhaps—if at all.

"Little sister," began Michael, crossing the room with Charlie who was wearing what looked like a new knitted sweater. "Where's the Quaffle I just gave you? Charlie and I want to play some Quidditch."

Katie momentarily abandoned her uneasy gaze at George to fix her brother with a look.

"Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to use the present you just got me for yourself?"

Her brother shrugged as if there was nothing odd in his request. "Well it's not as if you can join us," he said. "You'll just get hurt."

"I would not!" she protested hotly, throwing a wadded up piece of gift wrap in his direction.

"Kids," Meda said in her warning voice from where she sat with her husband on the couch. Her children ignored her.

"Come on, Kates," Michael continued, now rooting the pile of paper and presents surrounding her. "It will just be for a couple of hours."

"You're such an arse," she complained, and then noticed that he was digging in the direction of the gift from George. Her breath hitched in her throat and she flopped over to where he was quickly inching closer to it.

"It's fine!" she exclaimed quickly. "Just let me find it…"

But it was too late—Michael had unearthed the present.

"Kates," he said genially, holding it up. "You forgot one!"

George, whom Katie had assumed was pretending her half of the living room didn't exist, suddenly snapped to attention and turned quickly to gaze in her direction. She bit her lip and averted her eyes.

"Oh," Charlie said, smiling. "That's from George."

Katie wavered.

"You'd better open that up, Katie Kate," the redhead continued with a smirk. "It's a pretty good one."

"It is," Ginny piped up, looking over from where she sat with Harry. "He spent ages on it."

George quickly busied himself with attending to Teddy, who was trying to put one of the low-hanging Christmas tree ornaments into his mouth. Katie's eyes darted back from George to Ginny to Charlie again. She wasn't certain where to look.

Charlie seemed to pick up on something unsaid and smiled, clapping his hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Well let's go, Bell," he said, taking the small gift from him and tossing it to Katie. "Daylight's burning."

Michael looked confused at the abrupt change in the conversation, but turned and followed his friend outside, arguing about who would have to take the side bordering the pond. Silence filled the space left behind, and Katie turned the gift over in her hands, unsure of what to do with it.

She stared at the faded green wrapping paper for a few moments and suddenly realized that this present had been wrapped significantly earlier than the others. There were faded creases on the edges the bow looked worn. She frowned a little.

"You don't have to open it if you don't want to," a low voice mumbled beside her, causing her to jump a little.

George had moved from the corner of the room to the sofa nearest her. He looked down at her with an inscrutable expression that caused Katie's heart to hurt just a little. She hesitated, and cast her eyes around the room. Everyone else had moved into the kitchen or was caught up in earnest conversation. No one was looking in their direction.

"Do you want me to?" she finally asked in a hushed voice. His mouth fell open just a little as though he was trying to weigh his words.

He nodded slowly. Then, "Yes."

Katie pursed her lips and then looked back down at the small wrapped box. She took a breath and then tugged at the ribbon. It fell away quickly. Another moment's work saw the wrapping paper gone, and then all that remained was to open the box. Sensing George's watchful gaze, she did.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was an intricately gilded silver locket. She pulled it from the box and looked at it more closely. It was beautiful. The chain looked like goblin-made silver, it was so bright. The locket itself was oval-shaped, adorned with looping and swirling patterns, and in the center was what appeared to be genuine mother of pearl. As she examined it closer, the pearl began to look more familiar. In fact, whole aspects of the necklace did. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"It's from all of us, really," George said finally, watching her eyes sweep over the present. "Alicia's chain. Angelina's pearl. The silver is from those old Sickles Lee got from his granddad, back when they used to be pure silver. Melted down."

"And I made it," he added, almost as an afterthought.

She looked up at him, struggling to control the trembling of her lower lip. "You made it?" she repeated.

George nodded. "Yeah. I did."

She opened her mouth to say something—she wasn't sure what—but she was interrupted.

"He's good at that kind of thing, isn't he?" Ginny said, smiling. She had evidently been watching from where she still sat with Harry. Now, she came over to join them and peered over Katie's shoulder. "He'd never admit to it, of course, but he's rather brilliant. I begged him to do me a ring fourth year, and everyone swears it's goblin-made. Very feminine."

George withdrew his steady gaze at Katie's face to throw a look at his sister, but no one seemed to notice.

"Do you want help putting it on?" Ginny asked cheerfully, and Katie attempted to hide some of what she felt.

"Sure," she nodded.

The redheaded girl took the necklace from Katie's hands and easily fastened it around her neck. The weight felt comforting somehow and the metal was warm. She struggled to compose her feelings before managing to get out, "George? Can I talk to you for a second?"

Ginny smiled a little and withdrew as Katie stood up and walked toward the staircase. George hesitated for a moment and then followed her.

When she had gained the stairs, she walked straight up to the second landing and into George's room. He followed her inside, unsure of what to expect, and softly closed to door behind him. Of all the places in the house, this was the one where he least wanted to be. Everything—from the empty top bunk to the half empty closet—was a testament of his guilt and his betrayal. And yet, for some perverse reason, Katie had chosen it.

When he turned around again, she was staring at him intently. Her eyes were full, and he hesitated.

After a few moments of silence passed between them, George began again.

"I tried to make it large enough to hold Fred's ring," he explained, looking down at the floor. "I thought—"

"I don't care," Katie interrupted, quickly closing the space between them. All of her apprehension about the night before had died and her pulse was racing for an entirely different reason now. "Come here."

She circled her arms around George's neck and brought his lips down onto hers, kissing him decidedly now. That he was surprised was obvious, but he made no objection and pulled her in closer by the waist. Everything else was silent. The door blocked out most of the bustle from below.

When they parted, George rested his forehead against hers and breathed out slowly, warring emotions playing clearly across his face.

"Katie…" he whispered quietly. "What are we doing?"

She hesitated, uncertainty returning as quickly as it had vanished. "I don't know," she breathed back.

It felt like an eternity, their two heads resting together, feeling his racing heartbeat against her chest, before he let out a deep and shuddering breath.

"Okay," he said, closing his eyes and tipping her head back, kissing her again.

Katie moved closer against him, dropping her hands to his shoulders and then around his back. They kissed more confidently than they had done the night before, but without descending into the reckless fervor that they had been engaging in when Mr. Weasley had discovered them.

But she didn't think about that now. Her thoughts were entirely focused on the present as George slipped his hand down to the small of her back and deepened their kiss. She had told the truth—she didn't know what she was doing. But she knew that she wanted to be doing it. At least in that very moment.

After a few minutes had passed, George ended it. His lips lingered near hers, but he seemed determined to stop now. He exhaled and then spoke softly. "They'll be wondering where we are," he murmured.

Katie felt her heart sink for some reason she couldn't explain, but nodded. George squeezed her shoulder and then backed away, turning toward the door and reaching for her hand as he did so. She slipped it into his and the pair of them left the room and stole silently back down the stairs.

When they reached the sitting room, they parted in opposite directions, but not before Arthur Weasley caught sight of their intertwined hands and leaned over to whisper something to his wife. When Katie looked up at them not a moment later, Mrs. Weasley had an astonished but gratified look on her face and Katie could feel her stomach turn over inside her.