"I never could find it again," Fred shook his head sadly. "I always hated that. The place was impossible to navigate. I never even knew there was an East Tower until fourth year!"

"There…" George turned to me with a frown. "There wasn't an East Tower. Was there?" I shrugged. Hell if I knew.

"Ooooh, you know what else I hated about Hogwarts?" Angie announced, stabbing the air with her fork-skewered chicken. George, Fred, and I turned to her expectantly as we continued with our dinners. The heavy wind of an oncoming storm whooshed through the empty street outside our door. Clouds hung heavy in the air threatening, always threatening, to release their contents on us. Thunder rumbled in the distance, far enough away that there was a good distance between our home and the storm but close enough that I felt a shudder pass through me with every deep roll. I could ignore all of that, though, as we ate dinner together on the floor of the shop with a few candles lit around us for flickering light. "The stairs."

"Merlin, I hated that!" I agreed. "Nothing made me feel fatter than the first day back at school."

"No one is in the peak physical condition necessary to climb all those stairs!" Angie agreed emphatically. "If Oliver bloody Wood couldn't do it, how are we supposed to?"

"He was panting like a dog the whole first week. It's a wonder poor McGonagall didn't keel over one day," George added before shoving a forkful of rice into his mouth.

"I don't think the stairs were as bad as that bridge, though," I countered. "Anyone else worried it was going to cave out right under your feet?"

"ALL THE TIME!" Fred burst. "Any time there were more than four of us on it at once, and it would creak like that, like, eeeaa-aaa-kkkk-ek-ekkkkk, right?" We all nodded at the familiar noise, and George laughed at his brother's impression. "I was horrified."

"Know what I hated about Hogwarts?" George supplied.

"The Trifle Tuesdays they had our second year?" Angie offered. Fred wrinkled his nose at her, which made her giggle. A noise she never made quite that way before they got together, I noted.

"I hate that they did away with Trifle Tuesdays. You know I like my trifle, Angelina," George answered matter-of-factly. "No, but I was saying I hated that there was no appreciation for magic there." Fred nodded emphatically – noteworthy that Angie had finally trained him not to talk with his mouth full – but I found that comment extremely confusing for the obvious reasons.

So did Angie. "Come again?"

"Think about it. All the stuff we learned was fine, but any experimentation and it was 'Mr. Weasley, my office, NOW!' and lines."

"That's because you two were being dunderheads. I experimented plenty and was just fine," I pointed out.

"You experiment with potions in a controlled environment," Fred countered.

"Snape was probably so surprised a student took interest in his class that he didn't' care what you did," George agreed.

"Besides, you were a Ravenclaw. Everyone knew 'Claws had it easy."

"Excuse me?" I took offense to that.

"How many times did one of your housemates botch an experiment or get caught past curfew and walk away with a warning?" Fred wrinkled his nose.

"Well, we were learning!"

"So were we," Fred shrugged. "And setting up future business opportunities! Yet we still had detentions."

George huffed and continued his brother's argument. "I enchanted a jewelry box to play music and, em –"

"Light up –" Fred supplied.

"Yeah, like sparkle –"

"For you, for Christmas, fourth –"

"Sixth year. Never got to give it to you. Filch took it."

"Still has it," Fred added.

Filch be damned. My heart swelled at the mere thought of the gesture. The boys continued blathering on, but I was done. They, or rather George, had silenced me even though I still had plenty of complaints about my dearly beloved Hogwarts. I stared at him with wide, adoring eyes and what I can only assume was an idiotic grin, hands clasped together on my lap, watching his lips form words I did not hear.

Angie must have noticed because she nudged Fred who then snickered, which attracted George's attention.

"Honestly, Mellie, it was two years ago," he chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"We weren't even dating then," I pointed out. Because it was clearly impossible to make sweet gestures to your friends…

"Mel, he made you a music box. I could buy you one of those," Angie teased.

"Oy, don't you ruin this for me," George growled.

"You made that for me!" I continued to gush like a schoolgirl, their banter completely ineffective.

George chuckled again and slung an arm over my shoulders. "I did."

"Hey, Mel, I've made you things, too!" Fred insisted. "Pay attention to me – oof!" He recoiled from Angie's elbow in his stomach.

"We're going for a walk," she announced.

"I'm not done eating," he whined. She gave him her world renowned glare, though, so he let out a resigned sigh and clambered to his feet. "Yay. I love walks. SO much."

"Don't lose him," George ordered. Angie flashed a thumbs-up and dragged Fred towards the door despite his protests that he needed a sweater. His complaints cut off sharply when the door swung shut, and George took the opportunity to pull me closer.

"He'll die out there," I decided. Our trips in adverse weather had shown me a thing or two about Fred stamina, and while he was excellent in the rain, he could complain like no other. If our enemies didn't use the storm to their advantage and attack (which I highly doubted would happen), Angie would kill him just to shut him up.

But George had fallen silent, finding no humor in my joke and not asking for any explanation to laugh along with me. I poked his side and frowned, and only then did he offer a shaky smile that I guess was supposed to reassure me that everything was fine. He knew me, though, and knew that it took a lot more than that to convince me everything was all right. Especially considering how quickly his mood shifted from happy to this, which was not sad but not angry, maybe nervous or anxious.

"I'm going to ask you something, and you're probably going to hit me because it's completely unplanned and not at all how you'd want this to go at all. But I really need to ask it right now, all right?"

I bit my lip and nodded. Rowena, he had me nervous, and I had to shift out from under his arm to better see his face. I just needed to see those eyes, to know that everything was still all right, and that added distance between us gave me enough of a view to really look at him. But I needed to hold him still, to feel that he was all there, so I kept a hand on his wrist that he quickly readjusted so he was holding with his own.

"What is it, George?"

"You really love me, right?"

"Of course I love you," I tittered nervously. Had we not gone through enough to prove that? "What is this about?"

"It's just that this, tonight, the laughing and the memories and the dinner…it made me think that I want to do this all the time. Every night. I want this to be our life all the time. And I know you think you're going to, well, y'know…" Die. But I didn't say it. We knew. "And you'll probably say no because you think it'll be some noble thing, and you're probably right, but maybe you're wrong about all of that. Even if you aren't, I want this, I want you. And I want you to marry me. Shit, no, that wasn't a question! Let me try again."

Merlin. I suspect there was not enough time for the shock to even register on my face before he made his second attempt at getting the wording right.

"So, yeah, I love you and…and will you marry me?"

Oh. Oh, Merlin. For some reason, my eyes welled up with tears that I could not even attempt to stop, and a glowing warmth spread across my chest. Something in the way George looked at me, all nerves and adoration and anticipation, just made me feel so loved. This was home, with takeaway boxes on the floor and candles burning to nubs and memories in the air and him right there, close enough to touch.

Considering everything, it was stupid and probably very dangerous, but I wanted all of this forever, too.

"Yes," I finally said, although I do not think George understood at first because nothing changed in his face. So, I said it again. "Yes, George. I want to marry you."

It has been far too long since I've posted, and I'm sorry for that. I'll try to get things up quicker from now on. I honestly don't know what happened. Thank you all so much for your patience and for so loyally sticking with this even though the author of this story clearly has her head in the clouds! Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas, and see you in 2013!

Next Chapter: Visitations and Interruptions