Katie successfully avoided both Weasley parents for most of the next few hours, instead spending Christmas day with her family. This hadn't been an easy task. Mrs. Weasley kept inviting her to help out with the cooking or to offer an opinion on a gift someone had given her.

Katie had two motives for wanting to avoid a confrontation: first, to stay away from the skepticism of Mr. Weasley and the apparent exultation of Mrs. Weasley, and second, to keep her parents away and unable to hear about the latest developments between herself and George. She could barely keep her sanity knowing that the Weasleys knew what had transpired; if her own mum knew she'd kissed George—not once, but twice now—she would have to apparate to Tibet and live out the rest of her life in the mountain tops.

At the moment, she wasn't sure she wouldn't end up doing that anyway. She glanced warily across the game of gobstones she was playing with her parents to where George was leaning against the wall and talking casually to Bill and Daryl. He appeared normal, if somewhat paler and quieter than usual. Katie both longed and dreaded to know what was going on in his mind.

For herself, she felt a near constant sense of anxiety and dread, coupled with—well—desire. The result was a complete loss of appetite, and alternating flashes of mania and paralysis. She yearned for the quiet solitude of the night before, and how everything had seemed surprising but also very clear. Today she was lost in a haze.

Her father called her attention back to the game at hand and she tried to focus, but Michael suddenly eliminated that need by bursting through the front door, bringing with him a large package and a burst of chilly winter air.

"Bloody hell son, make an entrance, will you?" Nicolas said, attempting to appear annoyed, but failing to disguise his amusement.

"What have you got there?" Katie asked, eyeing the package. She was eager for any diversion of her attention and this certainly peaked her interest.

"Never you mind, little sister," Michael grinned, tapping the side of his nose and disappearing into a side room.

"I wonder what that was all about," Meda said.

"Well I'm finding out," Katie declared, and got up from the floor to follow her brother.

"Katie!" Meda shouted, while Nicolas just laughed.

XxX

"Alright, what's going on, weirdo?" Katie asked, flopping down on the nearest couch while Michael tore off the brown packaging. This made her stomach ache a little and she immediately repented it.

"Christmas present from 'Lic, isn't it?" Michael said distractedly as he lifted open the lid to the box. "Just arrived."

"Ooooh," she began to crow obnoxiously, but stopped when she saw her brother's face fall. Michael frowned and stared into the box a long time before he opened his mouth again.

"Katie," he said slowly. "What kind of gifts does Alicia usually give?"

Katie hesitated. "Why?"

"Just…what did she get you for your last birthday?"

On edge, Katie tried to think quickly. Her mind raced for a second before she remembered. "A Witch's Guide For a Wild Wedding. And then a copy of her St. Mungo's schedule, with all of her free time marked in red. She was convinced Fred and I were going to get engaged soon, and she wanted to be maid of honor. And then we did," she added as an afterthought. "We did get engaged."

This set her heart pounding again and she had to increase her grip on the sofa's armchair to stop the room from spinning. If Michael noticed, he ignored it.

"So you'd say she's a thoughtful gift giver, then?" he pressed.

"I suppose so…Michael, why?"

"Because she's given me a day planner."

"What?"

Katie got off the couch and knelt down beside her brother. She picked up the package. Inside was, indeed, a day planner tied with a bow. She frowned.

"And you're sure it's from Alicia?" she asked finally.

Michael raised an eyebrow and then tossed her the packaging. The address and handwriting were indeed Alicia's.

"You know what I got her?" Michael asked roughly.

"No, I don't."

"A signed copy of Matilda. First edition."

"Huh? What's that?"

"Her favorite childhood book. She told me about it. Muggle author by the name of Roald Dahl. He's dead now, so I had to nick a time turner off my mate that works at the Ministry in order to get it signed. I went to a lot of trouble."

Katie raised her eyebrows, admittedly impressed. "Michael," she said. "That's amazing."

"Well I thought so," he muttered. "But this…I guess I just thought we were on a different level, you know?"

There was a very audible pause.

"Maybe it's got your name on it…?" Katie said finally.

"No."

She frowned, unable to help feeling slightly worried. It was extremely unlike Alicia to buy such a thoughtless gift. She was always known as the considerate one in their dorm room. A day planner was something Angelina would have bought for them all in a fit of practicality.

"You know what, I bet she was just unsure of what to get you," she said finally. "Alicia's never really had a boyfriend before—except George."

Katie felt her voice hitched on George's name, but she rushed on, attempting to push her own life far from her mind.

"She probably just panicked, and went for a needs-based gift. You are pretty disorganized, you know."

Her brother gave her an impatient look and shook his head. "Don't try to make it a joke," he said sternly. "I wouldn't do that to you."

And with that, he threw the day planner back into its box and started to walk toward the door that led into the backyard.

"Michael," Katie said, rather astonished. "Michael, come on, you know I didn't mean it."

But he walked out the door and shut it behind him decidedly. Katie had started to get up, but at this, she sank back to the floor and leaned against the nearby wall. She exhaled.

XxX

Katie must have stayed there for quite some time, because eventually she heard the door open and someone enter the room. She turned to look. It was George.

"Dinner's ready," he said in a low and somewhat hollow voice. "Mum sent me to tell you."

Katie signed and stared at the ceiling. "She knows, George."

George sat down beside her and nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"Did she say anything to you about it?"

"No. But she's been trying to all day. I've been choosing not to take the hint."

Katie nodded and shifted her focus to a far end of the room. She didn't know whether to be unnerved by George's silence or comforted by it.

"Alicia sent Michael a day planner for Christmas," she finally said.

At this, a shadow of a smile appeared on George's freckled face. "What?"

"Yeah," Katie confirmed, now unable to help smiling somewhat herself. "Can you imagine?"

"Something's not right there."

"Tell me about it."

After a moment, Katie sighed again. "The world's gone mad. And I can't handle it anymore."

George said nothing, but instead waiting a moment and then got up, offering her his hand.

"Well come on then," he said. "Mum won't want to keep dinner waiting.

XxX

When they emerged, the Weasley's already crowded home was bursting with new arrivals. Hermione had reemerged, along with her parents, and it seemed that Harry and Ron had also invited Luna Lovegood and her father from over the hill.

"Just to pop in, of course," Xenophilius Lovegood reminded anyone within hearing distance. "Luna and I have got to get back to Helga. She's just had a new litter."

Who or what Helga was, Katie never got to find out as Mrs. Weasley started shouting place settings over the top of everyone's conversations. Katie drifted toward the end of the table Aunt Elizabeth was sitting at, but Mrs. Weasley grabbed her by both shoulders and directed her southward.

"Oh no, dear, I thought you could sit by George. Isn't that nice?"

She looked around, panicked, but no one seemed to notice or find it odd but herself. George stood up and pulled out her chair for her, something she'd only seen him do when he was dating Alicia. She blushed deeply, but kept her face down.

Dinner was a noisy affair, but one she was particularly grateful for as she had nothing to say to anyone and very little appetite overall. However, Mrs. Weasley's unreasonably high spirits constantly kept her on edge.

"We've had such a phoenix rise from the ashes," Molly was telling the woman who appeared to be Hermione's mother. "I've been dreading this day for so long, but it seems that the only constant in life is love—not sorrow. And that's manifested itself in some unexpected but truly wonderful ways."

She smiled significantly in George's direction, confusing Mrs. Granger but thoroughly unnerving Katie, whose eyes immediately darted to her lap.

"What on earth are you talking about, Mum?" asked Ginny, who had been listening to this conversation.

Katie felt incredibly lightheaded when underneath the table, George grabbed her hand and wrapped it in his. She looked toward him quickly, but his face was expressionless and he appeared to be listening politely to something her father was saying. If this was meant to be comforting, it didn't help. Katie was confused by the gesture, unsure if it was friendly or romantic. She was also unsure in which direction she hoped it tended.

To take her mind off it, Katie used her spare hand to prop up her chin and gaze across the table at Michael. He too appeared quiet and was eating remarkably little. She frowned.

"Come on Bell, have a go," Charlie urged, pushing a bowl of dinner rolls toward his friend.

"No," Michael said sternly, holding up a hand to deny the offering. As he did so, knocked the bowl out of Charlie's hands and the rolls went flying across the room.

A burst of genial laughter erupted from their section of the table and Charlie, perhaps anxious to cover Michael's bad mood, dove under the table to recover the rolls.

"I got it!" he shouted, disappearing from sight. Immediately, Katie yanked her hand away from George and blushed furiously. It was too late, however. Charlie emerged with an armful of rolls and a sly grin on his face.

George, who hadn't noticed, looked at her with a small frown on his face. Katie ignored this and pushed herself away from the table.

"I've got to use the loo," she announced wildly, and practically ran from the room. She could feel the curious expressions behind her.

XxX

In the washroom, Katie gripped the sides of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror.

"Come on," she snapped at her reflection. "Pull yourself together. Do what Angelina would do. Walk out there with nothing to hide and all the confidence in the world. You're Katie Bell, for God's sake. You don't take shit from anyone."

This wasn't entirely true, of course. She did have something to hide—something rather large. And while she was pretty good at not taking shit, no one was necessarily dishing it out. Still, this was the pep talk she used before Quidditch matches at Hogwarts and it gave her enough steam to go back to the dining room.

When she did, things were winding down and Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Granger, Charlie, and—surprisingly—Fleur were clearing the table while the others retired to the sitting room to stretch and make room for dessert. Apparently she'd stayed away longer than she thought.

As she surveyed the scene, George appeared and took her elbow.

"Are you alright?" he asked quizzically. His eyes bore deeply into her own, but she still couldn't make out what was behind them.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just—"

Just what? How did she explain the alternating waves of desire and discomfort that were coursing through her right now? She both wanted him and wanted to be as far away as possible.

"Katie, darling, do you want to help us in the kitchen?" Mrs. Weasley called, looking anxious to get her on her own. Katie hesitated between confusion and embarrassment, and eventually chose embarrassment.

"Sure thing," she said, backing away from George and turning toward the kitchen. George frowned again before she disappeared through the entryway.

"What can I do?" Katie asked, anxious to head off any attempts at conversation that revolved around anything other than dish soap and suds.

"Want to dry while I wash?" grinned Charlie, who had his sleeves rolled up and his hands plunged into the sink.

"Excellent," Katie said, striding over and taking up a dish towel.

"Charlie, I told you, you can let the wand do that," Mrs. Weasley said, exasperated. She flicked her wand at the sink and one of the sponges started scouring a dish. Charlie caught it in mid-air.

"Gets cleaner this way," he argued, and his mother just rolled her eyes.

"Katie," she tried again, while stirring something boiling on the stove.

"It was a lovely dinner, Mrs. Weasley," Katie interrupted. "Really, just terrific. I don't remember the last time I ate so much."

She'd hardly eaten anything, but who had noticed?

"Thank you, dear, but—"

"The potatoes were especially good. How do you get them so creamy?"

"Actually, it was just—"

"And the steak and kidney pie. You know, usually I don't like that, but tonight…"

"What are you doing?" interrupted Fleur, standing near an open cupboard with her hand on her hip. She was wearing a rather low-cut dress with gold sequins, and seemed to have enjoyed slightly too much of the mulled mead. "You. You don't talk like zat."

"What?" Katie asked warily.

"Why are you interested in ze food? You can't cook. You are disaster in ze kitchen. I have seen it."

"Actually, Fleur," Mrs. Weasley attempted. "Katie makes an excellent—"

Her irritation and anxiety levels at an all-time high, Katie broke in without checking herself.

"How would you know?" she snapped. "Last time we were in a kitchen together, you spent half the time admiring your reflection in the flatware."

Charlie guffawed loudly, but stopped himself when Fleur's face took on a villainous look.

"'Ow dare you? As if you know anything about the importance of personal grooming! You're lucky you cleaned up today, with zat 'air of yours."

She looked ready to say more, but instead burst out the back door and started marching off toward the chicken coop while Katie fumed near the sink.

"Well really, that wasn't necessary, Katie," Mrs. Weasley said after a moment. "But I do understand you're a bit preoccupied."

She smiled knowingly and Katie stared up at the ceiling.

"I should go apologize," she announced, leaving the kitchen without any intention of doing so.

XxX

Head in her hand, leaning against the nearest wall, Katie didn't look up until Charlie approached.

"Letting the wand do it," he grinned, answering her inquiring expression.

"I'm insane," she stated flatly. Charlie laughed.

"Fleur's always like that when she drinks," he said dismissively. "She'll forget it happened by tomorrow morning."

Katie raised her eyebrows and said nothing. Charlie pressed on.

"The real question here, Kates, is what's going on with you and George-pie?"

She shot him a look. "What on earth makes you say that."

He laughed. "Oh come on, Katie, I'm not a complete moron. Mum's been over-the-moon for unknown reasons all day, you're on edge, and I definitely caught the under-the-table action at dinner. You know I did."

"That wasn't anything," she shot back.

"What happened last night? I know you were the last two up."

"Nothing happened, Charlie, just drop it."

"Fine." He shot up his hands in surrender. "Nothing happened."

After a moment, he added, "Probably for the best, anyway." Katie felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"So what's up with Michael?" Charlie continued, changing the subject. She sighed. Finally, something she could talk about without feeling on the edge of a stroke.

"Alicia sent him a dayplanner for Christmas," she said, leaning her head back against the wall. "He sent her a signed copy of her favorite dead author's book, or something. He's not happy about the disparity."

Charlie winced. "I should imagine not. That's a little cold. Any idea what's up there?"

"Not the first clue."

He nodded. "Suppose I should go be the best mate."

"Indeed."

"Alright," Charlie replied. "Then I'm off. Just try not to create any more lasting fissures in my family while I'm gone, eh?" He winked and disappeared down the hall.

"Charlie!" Katie cried, exasperated. As she followed him down the hall, however, she noticed a tipsy Fleur arguing with Bill and looking in her direction and she turned back round.

"Right," she said, returning to the sitting room. George was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Harry and Ron near the Christmas tree. She strode over purposefully, grabbed his hand, and pulled him out of the room and near the staircase. A couple of heads turned, but most of the guests were too busy digesting their dinner to notice or care much.

When they got to the hallway, Katie released George's hand and started pacing the floor. George put his hands in his pockets and raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to begin.

"I've got to get out of here," she burst forward. "I've got to. I can't stay in this house another minute."

"What happened?" George asked carefully.

"Everything! Have you not been here all day? I can't stand the glances, the whispering, all the bloody hints. I just verbally attacked your sister-in-law, and your mother thinks it's because—well, I don't know what she thinks. But I don't want to know. And Charlie—"

She sighed, looking at him helplessly. "I just can't be here. I need to leave. Either with you or on my own."

She bit her lip and awaited his reaction. George took a moment to mull it over before speaking.

"You realize if we both leave, that's just going to make it worse."

"I know."

"I can't stop my mother from talking."

"Yeah, I know."

"Or my brother."

"Yeah."

George nodded slowly. "Alright. Let me go and get my coat."

Katie sighed gratefully and sloped against the wall. She didn't know what she was doing, but it felt like the right decision. At the very least, it would get her away from this godawful, never-ending Christmas party from hell.

George returned in a couple of minutes in his black pea coat and scarf. Katie had a moment to reflect on how nice he looked before he reached for her hand. She looked at him quizzically, but he just nodded shortly. She took his hand and he pulled her up.

"We ought to say goodbye," he said. "After last night, I don't know how much they trust me not to kill myself."

He smiled wryly and Katie nodded back, letting him lead her through the hallway and into the sitting room. Despite her anxiety, no one really looked up until George was helping her put on her coat. By that time, Mrs. Weasley had emerged from the kitchen with a pie in each hand.

"George? Where on earth are you going?"

At that, Katie's parents—who were seated near the door—looked up as well.

"Are you leaving?" Meda asked in shock.

Katie was unsure how to respond, but George—suddenly possessed by a preternatural calm—answered both their mothers.

"Katie and I need a bit of air. We're going back to our flat and we'll see you all in the morning."

"But George!" Molly Weasley exclaimed.

"Katie, you're meant to be going home with us. Staying with us," Meda argued.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Katie said, shrugging her shoulders. "I've got to."

"Well there's no need for that," Nicolas put in, in his fatherly "voice of reason" tone. "If you need a break, just go for a little walk and we can leave early."

"We can leave early," Meda echoed.

On the other side of the couple, Mrs. Weasley was whispering rapidly into George's ear.

"If this is about you and Katie feeling uncomfortable, there's no need," Katie heard her hiss. "I think it's the most natural thing in the world that—"

"We'll see you later, Mum," George said firmly, putting his hands on Katie's shoulders and backing the pair of them out the door.

"I'll owl you," Katie promised, looking guiltily back at her mum, and then the door was closed, and they were outside.

George heaved what seemed to be a sigh of relief and then grabbed hold of her hand again. The snow fell softly around them.

"You ready?" he asked.

Katie nodded. George clasped her hand tighter and then turned, apparating the pair of them back to their flat on deserted Diagon Alley.