Blurb:

Just when I thought life couldn't throw any more lemons my way, the Ministry pulls this kind of stunt. A Marriage Law? And I have to marry my chosen partner within a year? Shacklebolt's finally lost it. At least George Weasley's nice. But he deserves so much more than someone broken by the damned war.

Happier (George x OC)

Dear Ms. Kimberly Clarke,

By order of the Marriage Law as set forth by the Ministry of Magic on 30 June 2000, your marriage partner has been selected. Please find enclosed a second letter with the name of your chosen partner.

We would like to again ask for understanding from our wizarding community for the reason behind the implementation of the Marriage Law of 2000. All unmarried witches and wizards over the age of seventeen have been selected to marry a magical person of the Ministry's choosing in an effort to deal with the increasing decline in able-bodied witches and wizards in Britain's wizarding community. Selected partners have been chosen based on consideration of many factors including age, character and bloodline.

Any persons already engaged or in long-term relationships beyond one year as of 30 June 2001 who have either not already submitted their application for an approved partner consideration or have not received a response to their application as of 15 July 2000, please submit requests before 31 July 2000. Any applications beyond 31 July 2000 will not be considered. Further, any engagements announced post 30 June 2000 will not be considered for approval. Any requests related to special circumstances such as pregnancies conceived prior to 30 June 2000 should be expedited immediately. Any considerations for pregnancies conceived post 30 June 2000, as per the announcement of the Marriage Law on 30 June 2000, will not be considered for approval unless in very specific circumstances.

All selected couples must be married before 1 September 2001. At least two children must be conceived or adopted by the couple within seven years 1 June 2000. After five years of marriage, a divorce may be granted if there has been one successful pregnancy carried to full term.

Failure to comply with the law and the above rules will result in a five year sentence in Azkaban after which the witch or wizard may appeal their case to the Wizengamot. A second failure to comply with the law and the above rules will result in either a life sentence in Azkaban or an immediate removal of wand and exile from the wizarding community.

Any questions regarding the law may be directed to Peter Johnson, Senior Undersecretary. For the complete set of rules and guidelines, please send requests by owl to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Yours sincerely,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Minister for Magic

I had to take several deep breaths before I could even begin to look at the second piece of parchment. Ever since the law was approved - or really, since it was announced about two months ago - I had seriously debated whether it was worth it to stay a witch. I was Muggleborn after all, how hard could it be to go back? Well, in truth, it was pretty difficult especially since I had no Muggle record of schooling for the last ten years. But the question remained, would it be worth it to stay a witch if I had to marry someone unknown? Or was it worse if it turned out to be someone I did know?

I cringed as I always did at the possibility I might be set to marry my best friend. Terry Boot and I went back to our first year at Hogwarts when we'd become fast friends almost immediately after sharing a train compartment. But to marry him and have a baby with him? I'd turned as green as he had when our mutual friend, Michael Corner, had tried to joke about it. It was easy for him, he was married already. Lucky git.

But as bad as it was to imagine marrying Terry, even just contemplating the other possible alternatives made me almost want to beg my best friend to marry me. Especially given the rumours.

Ever since the law was approved, rumours had abounded that the probability of a Muggleborn being matched with a Pureblood was very high. In fact, it was said that this pairing would be the highest likely outcome given that research had recently proven this pairing was the most likely genetic mix that would produce a non-Squib baby. So, logically, it made sense and shouldn't be a problem… But since when did the word "Pureblood" and logic mix together?

The memory of a letter with a black seal dropping into my breakfast porridge rose in my mind's eye before I shoved it aside. Instead, I held up the second piece of parchment I still had in my hand, fingering the fold as I gathered up the nerve to flip it open.

I wanted it to be someone I didn't know, I decided. If we were both going to be forced into holy matrimony (or whatever the wizarding corresponding version of that was), I would rather not know them at all and get to know them. Just as long as they weren't Slytherin…

My hand was shaking and I chastised myself. 'Come on, it'll be better if it's quick - like pulling off a bandaid.' Except I knew for a fact that ripping off a bandaid still hurt like a mother and if I was truly brave, I would have been a bloody Gryffindor.

'Rowena, pull yourself together!'

I inhaled at the same time that I flipped open the parchment and forced myself to read it. And read it again. My breath escaped me in a gasp.

It was a name I knew after all.

"Rowena, help me." I whispered as I stared at the three words written in elegant cursive right in the middle of the parchment.

George Fabian Weasley

I spent the next two days trying and failing to compose a letter to George Weasley.

In that time, I'd heard from Terry (who revealed his fiancee-to-be was Mindy Ford, a fellow Ravenclaw from our year and someone I privately thought was a good match for him) and I'd managed to write back to my best friend. But somehow words failed me whenever I tried to pen something to Weasley. What was I supposed to say as an opening line to someone I had known in school but who likely didn't know me? Was it more polite to pretend I didn't know him? Or was it better to just be blunt and let him know I remembered him but knew he wouldn't know me? More importantly, what else did I say to a man I was supposed to marry in a year?

It was late afternoon on the second day that I was startled away from my still-blank parchment by a loud tapping on the window. Looking over, I saw a handsome barn owl pecking at the window with a letter tied to its leg. I hurried to open my window and the owl flew in, perching on the edge of my couch. I dug up some owl treats for the bird, which accepted the treats quite happily while I removed the letter. The owl remained on the couch however even after I had the letter in my hand, indicating it was waiting for a response.

But I hesitated to open the letter. For a bizarre moment, I wondered if the Ministry had written to me again (possibly to let me know George Weasley was already engaged to someone else, because come on, a guy like him had to have a girlfriend, right?). But once I opened the short letter, I was confused by the unfamiliar messy handwriting that met my gaze. Until my eyes skipped to the bottom and I saw the sender's name.

George. George had sent a letter first.

Dear Kimberly, the letter began

I hope you don't think I'm rude to address you so casually in our first correspondence (my mum would be scandalized if she knew) but I feel that if we're going to marry, might as well throw formalities out the window first. I hope I was memorable enough during my time at Hogwarts for you to remember me -

'Oh, you were', I think to myself.

-But if you don't, you might remember my younger brother, Ron. He was in the same year as you, although he's so immature it's sort of hard to believe you're the same age. Actually it's hard to believe he ever grew up past being an ickle firstie- Anyway, enough on Ron.

I realize this is awkward but I'd like to start this off on the right foot and get to know you better. How does lunch in Diagon Alley sound? I believe you work at the Ministry during the week, so maybe this weekend? Owl me back if that's agreeable to you. We can meet in front of the shop - that is, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I've put the address below - unless there is someplace else you'd rather go.

I look forward to seeing you again soon.

Yours,

George Weasley

Upon reaching the end of the letter, I sat back, a little bit stunned.

I honestly hadn't expected George to remember me at all. While at Hogwarts, Fred and George Weasley had lived in their own world, a world vastly different from mine. But maybe I had underestimated him too much? After all, we'd been in Dumbledore's Army together even if we had never interacted. But then I thought back to the meetings and I was again somewhat dubious. I had been pretty quiet even back then, sticking to my best friends for the most part. So I was hardly memorable. Maybe he had asked around in his family if anyone recognized my name? That sounded far more plausible.

Either way, at least he was trying to be polite, I thought as I grabbed my unused parchment and wrote a swift response back.

Dear George,

That's quite all right, I agree it would be stifling to go through any airs of propriety. Especially in this kind of circumstance. This weekend at Diagon Alley for lunch sounds wonderful. Perhaps Saturday at noon?

Best,

Kimberly

It was only after I sent the owl off with my response that I remembered: in my attempt to sound cheerful and polite, I'd completely forgotten to mention that I did remember him from school.

'Oh well,' I sighed to myself. 'I doubt he'll notice or care.'

Saturday rolled around and I was embarrassed to realize I was nervous. I hadn't been out with someone since before the Second War, and I was only now realizing just how out of touch with the whole dating thing I was.

'Maybe it's a good thing I'm being forced to marry. I might not have gotten to, if the Ministry hadn't bloody threatened me to.' I thought to myself moodily as I lifted yet another shirt in front of the mirror before rejecting it.

It was starting to become extremely stressful as I even started to wonder whether to wear robes or just Muggle clothes. Eventually, I just pulled on a nice shirt and skirt, tugged on boots and then threw my nicest robes over the whole thing. Deciding that some makeup couldn't hurt, I applied basic mascara, some concealer under my eyes, and lipstick, all without really looking at myself in the mirror. A habit I had developed since 1998. I hated the way I looked now, too pale and too tired for someone only officially one year out of school. Most of all, I hated the emptiness I always saw reflected back in my own eyes.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, I grabbed my keys, my wand and my purse, before leaving my flat and Apparating to Diagon Alley.

Realizing I was a bit early, I wandered the familiar streets for a short while. It had changed, like the rest of us, since the war. Florean Fortescue's was gone, although at least Ollivander's was back. Seeing his shop closed that last time I had come to Diagon Alley about four years ago had been shocking to say the least and it had definitely been the first taste of the darkness to come.

But despite the changes from my younger days, the atmosphere now was lighter again with people stopping to say hello to friends and only the occasional person looking over their shoulder jumpily. It made sense. Some wounds would never heal. And it seemed, I wasn't the only one who would have to live with that.

Meandering my way through the unfamiliar familiar road, I slowly made my way toward where I knew the joke shop was. I'd never gone in: the one time I'd been in Diagon Alley after it opened in 1996, I had been too fearful for my Muggle parents to stay long in Diagon Alley aside from the absolute necessary stops to buy textbooks and some stationary supplies. But despite the fact that I'd never been there before, the shop was easy to find. Even from a distance, it was like a bright beacon in its uniqueness. Unlike most of the buildings in the streets, the joke shop was colourful and it was clear it was intentionally made to stand out. Much like the twins, I mused to myself as I made my way closer.

But I was surprised when I saw a familiar redhead standing outside the door, clearly waiting for someone. I glanced at my watch - I was still ten minutes early. I looked back to the man who was checking his watch too and wondered if maybe he was waiting for a delivery that was running late. Yes, that was the only explanation, I decided as I slowed my steps. Besides, I wasn't even sure if it was George or if it was Fred.

Regardless, from a distance, whichever Weasley twin it was looked almost the same as I remembered. Same tall, lanky build although there was something distinctly less gangly about it now that he had fleshed out from teenager to man. Same flaming red hair although it was slightly shorter now than it had been in school when his hair had been long enough to tie at the back of his neck. Same freckled face. But as I got closer, I could see the small changes. Both Weasley twins had always been confident, but this man was more so now, clearly comfortable in his body that had finally stopped changing through puberty. But there was also a slight tension to him that hadn't been there before, the same tension I'd seen in most of my peers, especially the ones that had fought actively in the war. Again, I wondered if it would ever ease but doubted it: some things were just too hard to forget. I knew that from experience.

At that moment, Weasley glanced around the street again and his eyes met mine. Instantly recognition dawned and he grinned and waved. This, I did find surprising. I was tempted to turn around and make sure he was waving at me, when he jogged over.

"Clarke!"

George - at this stage, I really hoped it was George - greeted, coming to a stop in front of me with that trademark Weasley grin.

"Oh, wait, I meant, Kimberly - sorry, old habits die hard."

I frowned slightly at that - he'd never talked to me before, so when had he ever called me even if by my surname? He was already breezing on however.

"Anyway, let's get going. I know a good place down the back road - unless there was somewhere else you wanted to go?"

I shook my head, and just like that, George grabbed my wrist and tugged me along beside him as he turned and headed back down the road past his and his brother's shop. As we passed by, I could see it was packed inside, so much so that I wondered there wasn't a line going out the door. But more importantly, almost every face inside was laughing or smiling, even the tired and somewhat harassed-looking parents.

"So, how've you been, Kimberly?"

I was shaken from my thoughts as George addressed me now that we'd made it out of the main bustling streets and into a slightly quieter one.

"Oh… okay, I suppose. You look like you're doing well." I gestured back toward the shop and George beamed.

"Yeah. It's becoming a bit hard to manage, actually, we've been getting almost more orders than we can keep up with." He revealed.

It wasn't said with arrogance, just simplicity as he stated fact although there was pride in his voice. I didn't blame him. Rowena only knew he and his brother had taken a huge risk when they started their venture. And now they were one of the most successful businessmen of the century.

"But what about you? I heard you're working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

I peered at George curiously. "How did you know that?"

"Hermione told us she worked with you. Well, that you worked in the same department."

I nodded, remembering that Hermione was best friends with George's brother - and last I'd heard, she'd even started dating Ron after the war. That had been a surprise. If anything I'd thought she would get together with Harry Potter, but he had gotten back together with George's sister, Ginny Weasley, after the war.

"Yes. How is Hermione?" I asked, trying to focus on George and not my absent thoughts.

"Oh, same as usual. Driving Ron a bit mad but he likes it too, the weirdo."

Contrary to his words, George's tone had a certain fondness that spoke volumes about how much he really did care about his younger brother. I remembered how he and Fred had always been tormenting the youngest male Weasley at Hogwarts, but even then it had been obvious they really loved each other. It looked like some things didn't change after all.

George turned into a low doorway at that moment. I followed him, murmuring an awkward thanks when he gallantly opened the door to the small pub. It was quite cosy and reminded me strongly of the Three Broomsticks, albeit cleaner and brighter with more light than the Hogsmeade hot place had had. Best of all, it was still fairly quiet as it seemed it was early enough in the day that not a lot of people were inside.

George moved past me, gesturing for me to follow him as he made his way to a table by the window. I trailed behind him and noticed a pretty if much older waitress waving in greeting. George waved back - clearly, he was a frequenter of the place. My thoughts were interrupted when George stopped by the chair nearest to us and with a dramatic flourish, he pulled out the seat toward me.

"My lady."

He winked at me, clearly enjoying the way the blood rushed up to my face and burned my ears.

"Thank you." I mumbled, sitting down quickly. I now had a much greater appreciation for the lack of business so far in the pub; I could only imagine how embarrassing it would have been if there had been a lot more people watching.

George settled into the seat opposite me just as the waitress - whose name tag informed me was called Nina - walked over with a menu that she placed in front of me before she glanced at George expectantly.

"Will you be getting your usual order, Mr. Weasley?" Nina asked.

"The usual." George agreed cheerfully.

Nina turned to me next, and before she could ask or make suggestions, I hastily said, "I'll get the same as him."

Nina nodded professionally, but I swore she seemed amused even if she kindly just jotted down the order and took back the menu I hadn't even opened. George grinned.

"Trust me, K.C., you're not going to regret it." He told me as Nina left. I started a little at the sudden abbreviation of my name but he didn't seem to notice. "The shepherd's pie in this place is as good as it was in Hogwarts and almost as good as my mum's."

He tilted back in his chair as he spoke. The movement caused his hair to fall back, and it was then that I noticed he was missing an ear. I wondered how that had happened but I wasn't sure how to ask. And then I missed my chance to ask when George spoke up again.

"So, I gather from your earlier reactions when I mentioned them that you do remember Ron and Hermione."

I nodded, not sure where George was going with this. He just hummed thoughtfully.

"I guess it makes sense you'd remember them seeing as they were in your year. And, I suppose, hardly unmemorable what with the antics they got up to with Harry."

I was confused by his line of thought until I remembered his letter. One of the very first things he'd said was how he hoped I remembered him. And I'd forgotten to say I did.

"I remember you, too." I said before George could say anything else. "Of course I'd remember you from school. You and Fred were hardly unmemorable either."

He looked far more pleased (maybe even a little relieved?) than I'd expected. "Oh, good."

I tilted my head curiously. "Is that important?"

"Well, it's never a bad thing to be told you were memorable by a pretty girl." George answered a little too casually. I wanted to probe a little bit more but he abruptly changed topics.

"So, I'm curious. What made you decide to work at the Ministry? And for Magical Creatures?"

"Oh…" I was momentarily caught off-guard by the sudden questions but then I shrugged. "Well, I got a job there after I took my NEWTs so I took it."

It was George's turn to tilt his head as he appraised me thoughtfully.

"You don't sound too enthusiastic."

"It's a tough job sometimes." I smiled weakly before switching the subject a little. "I did see Granger a couple times in the office but I didn't realize she'd remember me. I would have said hi if I'd known."

"I don't think she minds." George shrugged, still eyeing me curiously. "Although I'm sure she'd also be happy if you said hi."

"I will."

An awkward silence followed my words. I was uncomfortable and George seemed to be a bit lost in thought. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something before he hesitated. I watched him repeat this process a few times but didn't have the courage to prod him. Finally, though, George spoke.

"Hey… I've been, er, meaning to say this from the start..." He cleared his throat while I watched with mild confusion.

"Look, I know that it's a little weird and the Ministry shoving its big nose into my life is definitely not the way I would have wanted to get married. But I for one think that I could have done a lot worse."

He paused, seemed to think that wasn't adequate for what he meant to say and added quickly, "What I mean is, I want to make this work but make it work naturally. I'd like you to get to know me and maybe we can at least go into this as… friends?"

He said the word almost hesitantly, faltering a little bit. I could tell he was nervous and really, who could blame him? George was right, who wanted to get married to someone the government had picked out for them and then basically said 'Ok, now go make babies or we'll throw you into jail!'? But I was grateful he was being upfront and frankly so considerate.

I smiled softly and nodded. "I'd like that."

He looked immensely relieved. "Good."

Looking much more relaxed, he sat back in his chair again.

"Okay. So, I think it's a perfectly acceptable thing, on a first date, to do twenty questions?"

I smiled at his enthusiasm and nodded although I couldn't stop myself from pointing out, "We were doing that already."

"Yeah, and it was about as stuffy as the dress robes the Durmstrang kids wore to the Yule Ball." George shot back. I couldn't help the snort that escaped me and he looked pleased even though I tried to cover it with a cough.

"Okay, you're right." I relaxed a little bit. "So, who goes first?"

"You have to ask? I'm a Gryffindor, we're the most chivalrous of the lot." George scoffed before he gestured at me. "Ladies first."

I had to think for a long time before I decided on a safe option. "Favourite colour?"

"Seriously?" He deadpanned, giving me a raised brow to boot. "That's what you're going to go with?"

"Well, I'd usually ask favourite subject in school or favourite book but I'm pretty sure your response is going to be 'none' and a joke book." I shot back.

He laughed loudly at that. "You got me there! Okay… I'd have to say… Blue."

"Blue?" I repeated. It was so unexpected; I'd expected him to say at least scarlet or something. "Why?"

"Uh-uh, my turn." He grinned while I rolled my eyes. "You haven't answered your own question yet."

"Mine's also blue." I said it in a 'duh' tone that only made him snort.

"I told you it was a dumb question." He teased. My eye twitched; no Ravenclaw liked to be told that. But something about the way George's eyes gleamed as he watched me with amusement told me he knew that.

"Fine, what's your brilliant question?" I huffed.

Because, really, what kinds of questions could you ask someone you just met? That was the whole point of it being an ice-breaker: you used it to ask general questions until you found common ground. Knowing Fred and George Weasley, I was fully expecting him to ask me my favourite joke or prank or maybe even if I thought I knew all the secret passages around Hogwarts. He surprised me.

"Why did you like sitting in that west corner of the library in Hogwarts?"

I stared at George for a very long time. He just casually leant forward on his elbow, waiting patiently for my answer.

"Because it was where the sun stayed longest." I answered eventually. "And I liked sitting in the sun."

He seemed to digest that but his focus returned to me as I asked slowly, "How did you know I liked sitting in that corner? I didn't even realize you knew where the library was."

George grinned. "Is that your next question? You realize you've only got twenty: I'd use them wisely. You already wasted one."

I narrowed my eyes at his challenge. His eyes danced with laughter in return but there was no mockery; only genuine delight as he catalogued my responses. With a huff, I sat back in my chair and folded my arms. My eyes fell on the hole where his ear should have been, just visible beneath his hair.

"Do you manage not to tell ear jokes every other day?"

I was again a little bit early meeting George in front of his shop the next weekend. But to my surprise, he was again waiting for me.

"Are you always early?" I asked after he'd greeted me. He looked a little surprised and took a moment to answer.

"Uh, not really."

"Oh." Sensing he was feeling a little bit nervous about something, I dropped the subject. I was far more nervous about today anyway too. "So… is your entire family really going to be there?"

"Yeah, but," he added quickly when I visibly paled. "It's really not going to be that bad. Harry, Hermione and Ron are going to be there too so you'll have other people you know. And Ginny too. You'll be fine, I promise."

"Right…"

I didn't hide my skepticism very well. George's hand did a little jerk like he'd been about to reach for mine before he changed his mind.

"Hey, Clarke."

It was only when he spoke that I realized Fred had joined us. Leaning in the doorway, he had been casually watching us (I didn't want to know how long) but he straightened when I looked over. With quick steps, he joined his brother. His eyes ran me up and down as he did and his grin widened.

"Well, you certainly are still a beaut, Clarke. My brother's a lucky man. It's a shame for you though, to be stuck with the less attractive twin."

"You're identical." I deadpanned while George shot his brother a look.

Fred seemed to ignore George's warning as he leant against his brother and winked at me. "But still better looking."

"Right… I don't think you grasp the concept of the meaning 'identical'." I told him blandly, just to be difficult.

Fred chuckled while George gave a long-suffering sigh. Fred just elbowed his twin goodnaturedly.

"Come on, you two. We're going to be late if we don't start moving, and you know what mum's like."

"She'll be the same even if we're on time."

Despite his words, George turned to me. Ever the gentleman, he held out his arm to me for side-long Apparition. I took his arm and one swirling moment later, we were standing outside one of the most fascinating buildings I had ever seen. Lopsided and looking like several rooms had been cobbled together piece by piece over time, the Weasley residence had a very homely atmosphere that immediately made me want to smile. Clearly, the place was full of love and, currently, laughter.

George glanced at me, clearly clocking my first reaction to his family home.

"It's wonderful." I assured him, and he relaxed just as the front door opened before us. A very pretty and very pregnant blonde stood behind it, and something about her smile made me think she'd been waiting for our arrival.

"You two are late." The blonde informed the twins before she looked at me. Her eyes softened, sparkling humour giving way to a warm kindness. "You must be Kimberly."

"Hi." I greeted the woman rather shyly while wracking my brain to figure out who she was. I didn't think I recognized her from school, but that might not say much given how much had become blurred over the last few years.

George, as though sensing my confusion, introduced us. "KC, this is Sophia. I don't know if you remember Alicia Spinnet from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but Soph's her sister."

"And my wife." Fred added proudly as he snagged Sophia's shoulder. I watched with mild surprise; I hadn't heard Fred was dating much less that he had gotten married but I supposed that wasn't surprising. I'd fallen out of touch with a lot of things after all, and judging by the woman's protruding stomach, the couple had been married for a while.

"It's nice to meet you."

"And you. George has told me so much about you." Sophia smiled at me while I masked my surprise, before she glanced back over her shoulder. "Lunch is already ready, so everyone's waiting out back."

"Awesome!" Fred loped inside enthusiastically. Sophia rolled her eyes after her husband and gave us one more smile before she followed Fred. I glanced up at George.

"She seems nice."

"She is." George agreed. I opened my mouth to ask what she'd meant about him telling her about me, but I couldn't work up the courage. Instead, I let George lead the way through the front door and through the kitchen to the backdoor.

I could hear laughter and chatter as we walked, but I almost turned around and ran away when I walked out into the yard behind George. There were a lot of people, half of whom shared the Weasley flaming red hair, gathered around in various groups all around the garden but everyone stopped talking to look our way curiously and expectantly. George squeezed my hand comfortingly, but I was still tempted to bolt - when Hermione Granger hurried over.

"Kimberley!" Hermione greeted me with a smile. "Glad you could make it. How have you been?"

"I'm good, thanks." I said faintly before I cleared my throat. In a slightly stronger voice, I managed to add, "How are you?"

"Well, you may have heard that my team is currently trying to get legislation passed to free all House Elves and allow them to make the choice to stay in service. But unfortunately, we've been facing some complexities in also including anti-slavery clauses in contracts to hire House Elves, so that's been a headache to deal with." Hermione answered as she expertly led me and George toward the nearest corner of the dining table.

The Weasley matriarch stood nearby and I almost tripped in my nervousness. Mrs. Weasley kindly pretended not to notice but I was somewhat stunned when she opened her arms and enveloped me in a warm hug.

"It's so nice to finally get to meet you, dear." Mrs. Weasley declared as she let go of me.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley. This all looks lovely." I managed weakly. Her eyes appraised me thoughtfully but thankfully, George expertly managed his mother and soon we were seated with the rest of his family and friends.

I was relieved to find myself close to Hermione and the rest of the Golden Trio, which I suspected was intentional on George's part. I really didn't know anyone else here but there was something comforting in sitting amongst my former classmates. And I could almost pretend I was back at school, at a time when things were still relatively normal.

"So… Kimberly." Hermione turned to me in a very obvious attempt to include me and make conversation. "It's been a long time. Even though we work in the same department, I think the last time we spoke properly was for the DA?"

"You were in the DA?" Ron butted in before I could respond, surprise all over his freckled face as he looked at me.

George rolled his eyes at his brother while Hermione reprimanded sternly, "Honestly, Ronald! How could you not know someone who was in the DA?"

"Well, there were quite a few people, weren't there?" The redhead shot back. "It's not like it was just limited to our year or something-"

"She was in your year, dimwit." George deadpanned.

Ron looked back at me, his eyes squinting as if he's trying to remember me. I shifted uneasily while George shot his brother a warning look that Ron didn't even notice, he was too busy trying to place my face and very clearly coming up blank.

Harry, clearly trying to save the conversation, piped up, "You usually paired up with Boot, right? You were really good with stunning spells, if I remember correctly."

"Thanks."

I smiled a little tightly, still uncomfortable with so much attention on me but relaxing a little bit as we wandered into more familiar territory. That and I was a bit surprised Boy Wonder actually did remember me - that, or he was extremely good at guessing. Actually, given his track record, his luck was probably good enough for him to strike a lucky guess.

Still, I was a bit touched that he remembered anything so I continued, "And yeah, Terry's my best friend so we always paired up, unless Luna needed a partner."

"Have you stayed in contact with Luna since school?" Hermione asked with polite curiosity.

"Um, no… we were never that close. But she was a Ravenclaw, we stick together." I explained quietly.

"Well, that we can understand. We Gryffindors stick together too, don't we, lads?" Fred rescued the conversation again, nudging George and sharing a grin with his twin.

"Hang on though. If you were in the DA, how come you weren't at the final battle?"

Silence followed Ron's words while I went white. My hand fisted tightly in my lap. And then Hermione hit him, hard, behind the head.

"OW!" Ron yelped.

"You. Are. So. Insensitive!" Hermione hissed at her best friend and now fiance before she looked back at me apologetically. "Sorry, please ignore him. Ron's social skills are about the range of a teaspoon."

Ron looked offended but Harry gave him a short shake of his head that was enough for Ron to realize he should keep his mouth shut this time. I tried to force a smile but it likely came out as a grimace.

"It's all right."

I felt a bit bad because it was actually a fair question and Ron was perfectly entitled to ask it. But since I had no intention of going down memory road or explaining what I had been doing when the DA coin warmed up to let old members know of the impending battle, I didn't say anything else.

After a short moment, Hermione asked me about my thoughts on the new regulations on trading for dragon hide that were making their way through our office for approval. I knew she was grasping for straws, but I was too eager to get the conversation away and had a hunch that something as boring as legislature would turn people's attention off me. As I'd expected, soon people started getting caught up in their own conversations again as they lost interest in the subject matter Hermione and I were discussing.

But after a while, I realized that George was very quiet beside me. I'd always known he was the quieter twin but that wasn't saying much (or anything, really) given how loud Fred was. But George was uncharacteristically silent next to me, not saying a word even to his own twin and definitely not engaged in any of the conversations going on around me. When Hermione turned to Harry to say something, I used the lull to turn to George questioningly - only to find him staring at me with some emotion I couldn't read in his eyes.

"What?" I asked, wondering if there was something on my face. He quickly shook his head and gave me a small smile.

"Nothing."

I frowned, not believing him, but at that moment his mother called out, "Dessert!" and I turned to watch with mild horror as a general chaos ensued while people vied for a slice of apple crumble. Molly tutted and smacked the many eager hands of her children.

"Honestly! I did not raise a pack of beasts, where are your manners?"

And with that, Molly turned her kind and motherly smile on me, freezing me in my seat.

"Kimberly, dear, would you like a slice?"

My voice stuck in my throat at her warmth. It had been so long that it triggered something deep inside me, and for a split second I was honestly worried I'd burst into tears.

George thankfully piped up behind me in a light tone, "Gee, mum, I thought it was usually the girlfriends who were supposed to suck up to the mothers, not the other way around?"

"Considering Kimberly's willing to take you, little brother, I think mum knows she should be thanking Merlin!" Bill called out, making people break out in laughter especially when George flicked a piece of mashed potato at his eldest brother.

"Don't throw food!" Molly reprimanded her sons before she turned back to me expectantly.

"I'd love some, thank you, Molly." I managed to say, clamping down on my silly emotions.

Something in Molly's eyes told me she noticed but she didn't comment on my reaction. Instead, she said kindly, "Oh, you're quite welcome dear", as she cut me a generous slice.

By the end of the meal, I was feeling slightly better about George Weasley's family. Sure, they were absolutely crazy and noisy given the sheer number of them, but they were also all clearly doing their best to be welcoming and friendly. Even Percy, whom I recalled as being quite stuffy and uptight at school, was nice even if he hadn't really gotten any more interesting since he'd graduated. Still, he made a few surprisingly funny jokes over the course of the evening, to my confusion but everyone else's amusement. Apparently, it wasn't that new to them anymore.

Finally, I excused myself. It seemed the afternoon was going to keep going for everyone else but I was tuckered out after spending so much time in a social setting. Still, there was a new warmth inside me as the Weasleys all chorused goodbyes while George walked me out.

"Thank you for inviting me." I told him sincerely as we walked toward the front door. "This was really nice. You have a great family."

"I do." George agreed. But then he hesitated.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's Harry's birthday next week." George explained haltingly. "He asked me to invite you."

"Oh."

I fumbled and George was quick to add, "It's nothing fancy, just the family. Kinda like today except it'll be dinner instead of lunch and we usually get together in the afternoon beforehand to catch up and stick around a bit after dinner. Harry hates formal affairs about as much as Fred and I, which is probably why he'll be my favourite in-law."

"Don't let Sophia hear you say that." I mumbled.

George smiled slightly but he still looked almost nervous. "So? How about it?"

I paused. All of this was new and a part of me said it was going too fast. But I was also aware I hadn't felt this alive in a very long time. And, for the first time since the Second Wizarding War had ended, it didn't feel like a bad thing.

So, I smiled and answered, "Sure. I'd… like that."

Harry Potter's birthday was far more bearable than I'd feared. George wrote me several letters beforehand and slowly, I was becoming comfortable with my, for lack of a better word, fiance. And as odd as it was that my life now apparently included attending the Harry Potter's birthday party, the celebrations themselves were right up my alley.

It turned out that Harry hadn't changed at all since Hogwarts and he still disliked both attention and crowds. The entire gathering was still pretty much just the Weasleys and their significant others excluding Charlie, whose match was the only one it seemed I had yet to meet, and Luna who had also come alone as her boyfriend-turned-fiance had other commitments. Maybe because of this or because of Harry's personality, but the whole affair was quite comfortable with a giant feast prepared by Mrs. Weasley and ending with a Quidditch match that turned out to be more fun than I'd thought it would be.

When the suggestion of Quidditch had been raised, I'd been very hesitant. I hadn't wanted to be a kill-joy but I also hadn't ridden a broom since about my fourth year and even back then my skills on a broom were average. The Weasleys on the other hand had all played for their house team, so I knew they were all good.

But it turned out that not only were Hermione and Luna as bad if not worse than me (Luna spent pretty much the entire game staring dreamily around and once flew off after some Nargles instead of the Quaffle), but they had decided to go without Bludgers. And apparently, Fred was much better at aiming with a bat than without one if the way he threw the Quaffle around was any indication. George was slightly better but he was having too much fun aiming the Quaffle at Ron's head rather than the goalposts to really be an effective Chaser. It was however quite effective in making me smile almost the entire game - a fact that still surprised me and made George beam proudly.

It was that proud smile that stayed with me. And finally, almost a month after I first met George, I voiced the suspicion that had been niggling in the back of my head ever since I'd first met his family.

"When did you find out about my family?"

He stilled and I chuckled although it was hollow even to my ears.

"What? You thought I wouldn't notice the fact that you've never asked to meet my parents even though I've met your entire family by now? And that, despite your weekly hundred and one questions, you've never even brought them or my brother up?" I asked.

George ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"No. But I didn't want to say anything until you were ready to tell me." He admitted, making me pause curiously. I peered up at him as a new thought crossed my mind.

"So, when did you find out?"

George seemed to hesitate, as though wondering whether to be honest or not. I gave him a pointed look so he finally confessed softly, "I knew about your brother soon after you got the letter about his death. News travels fast in Hogwarts, and Ginny told me."

I glanced at George before looking away. I did know news traveled fast in Hogwarts. And with my brother being one of the first casualties after Dumbledore's death, it hadn't been surprising that it had spread quickly amongst the students that an Auror had been killed in the Ministry itself. Simply for being Muggleborn.

"She knew I'd want to know." Before I could ask what he meant by that, George continued quietly, "And I knew about your parents the day after it happened."

I stared at him. That wasn't possible…

"H… How?" I asked, struggling to get my brain to function properly as my mind came up blank with any possible explanation.

How could he have known? Terry had told me months before my parents were killed that the Weasleys had gone into hiding. I remembered feeling relieved at the time because I'd feared greatly for the family so close to Harry Potter after Voldemort came into power, especially young Ginny who had been so kind and protective of Luna. But more to the point, it was highly unlikely that while they were hiding away, they would have read any Muggle newspapers. And the Daily Prophet at the time had been under You-Know-Who's thumb so it wasn't like they would have publicized my parents' deaths. To them, it was just another pair of Muggle murders. So…

"We got the report on Potter Watch." George explained, before adding quickly, "It was this broadcast Lee was doing-"

"I know what Potter Watch was. Terry told me about it and I listened to it when I could." I mumbled, waving George's explanation away.

"Right," he scratched his neck. "Well… April that year, we got the news about Muggles who'd been killed. I recognized the names."

Again, I was surprised. "How? Even Ron didn't know."

"He was a bit busy at the time." George deflected but I frowned.

"Well, you and I weren't close back then." I persisted. George shrugged.

"I still knew you."

"How?"

George shrugged again, glancing away. Realizing I wasn't going to get an answer - at least, not an honest one - I turned slightly away as well. But I turned back to George when he gently picked up my hand and squeezed it.

"It's late and I know it doesn't help at all. But for what it's worth, I am very sorry you had to suffer so much." George murmured quietly.

I blinked and was embarrassed to find tears welling in my eyes. Clearing my throat, I answered as best as I could, "Thank you. It… means a lot to me that you'd say that."

George nodded. For a moment, we stayed silent again, both deep in thought. Until I finally broke the quiet with the confession that had weighed on ever since Ron had brought it up the first time I'd visited the Burrow.

"That's why I didn't go back."

George looked over questioningly so I elaborated.

"For the final battle. I would have, you know. If only to get back at him, for what he did to my brother." My voice broke but I kept going, the words spilling out faster now that I'd started letting them out into the world. "All Todd did was go into work that day. Even though I begged him not to, even though I begged him to go into hiding as so many other Muggleborns were doing. But he didn't want to hide. He wanted to prove that we could all still be strong and united even with Dumbledore gone. And the Death Eaters killed him just because our parents weren't magical."

George grimaced. He took my hand sympathetically and patted it gently. I squeezed back gratefully as I continued.

"For Todd, I would have gone to fight. But after my mum and dad were also… I was still a pretty big mess when the battle broke out, after burying my parents. I was hiding with Terry's parents when we all got the news, and…" I closed my eyes. "And he made them swear not to let me go after him when he left for the battle."

"Why?" George asked when I didn't add anything else for a good few minutes.

I opened my eyes and looked at George. His warm eyes looked back at me, filled with nothing but concern and careful curiosity. I almost backed out of saying the truth. I hadn't told anyone about what had happened that day; a part of me still too hurt and a part of me embarrassed. But I realized as I looked into George's eyes that I wanted him to know. I needed him to know.

"He was afraid I'd go to die." I admitted quietly. George flinched slightly.

He hesitated for a little while, opening and closing his mouth a couple times before he finally asked, "Would you have?"

I shook my head.

"I honestly don't know." I admitted. And like that, despite my fears, I suddenly felt lighter. The admission, the truth, was lifted from my shoulders.

My eyes filled with tears as I felt the burden lifted, alarming George. I laughed, a real laugh, for the first time since my parents had died. Reaching over, I hugged him tightly. He seemed to freeze for a moment before he returned the hug. He was hesitant at first but he soon tightened his hold. Especially when I whispered in his ear, "Thank you for listening."

His hands tightened and George answered softly back, "Always."

Things between George and I had been… strange. I felt freer and happier than I had in a very long time and George seemed to enjoy my company, so much so that he'd started asking me to just come hang out at his shop whenever I could. But at the same time, ever since our hug when I'd told him the full story about my parents, he seemed constantly on the verge of saying something before catching himself and rethinking whatever he'd been about to say. It was very confusing.

He'd just done it again and I was tempted to tell him to just spit it out, when a customer called and he was forced to hurry away. I frowned after him, wondering what was going on with him lately, when a familiar brunette stepped into my line of sight.

"Terry!"

I jumped off the stool I'd taken over in the last few weeks and ducked out from behind the counter to give my best friend a big hug. Terry laughed, startled but pleased.

"Hello to you too, Kimmy." Terry grinned as I let him go.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. Terry gestured around the shop.

"Well, it's my dad's birthday coming up and you know he likes a good laugh. A little bird also told me I could find you here so I figured, I get to see my best friend and possibly get a discount on a birthday present, win-win, you know?"

I scoffed. "Flattery will get you nowhere there, my friend. It's not like I'm not in charge."

"That's not what the little bird told me. I heard you have sway with the owner." Terry gave an exaggerated wink, making me laugh.

Surprise crossed his face before a pleased smile took over as Terry observed me. I also detected a satisfied glint in his eyes but before I could say anything, a rather cold voice spoke up from behind me.

"What are you doing here, Boot?"

I turned, somewhat surprised by the out of character greeting from George. He was also frowning, which made me frown in return. Terry also seemed somewhat taken aback although he recovered quickly.

"I was actually just asking Kimmy here for recommendations for a gift. It's my dad's birthday soon." Terry explained.

George's face remained oddly blank and his tone was still rigid as he answered coolly, "Well, I'm sure someone would be very happy to show you some of our best sellers."

My frown deepened and I objected, "What are you talking about? You love to show-off all your products and help people pick the best ones for what they plan to use it for."

"I'm busy right now." George answered evasively. Terry raised a brow and a sudden knowing smile appeared on his face. I was too cross with George for being rude to my friend however to try to ask Terry about it - yet. I'd get to it later.

For now, I huffed, "Well, then, I'll show Terry. Come on, Terry, I know the perfect present for your dad."

Terry allowed me to lead him away while George did the same infuriating opening and shutting of his mouth without saying anything. I was starting to really not like that habit of his, I decided. It was so unlike him, too, the George I remembered from school had had no trouble saying whatever was on his mind (even if sometimes he arguably should have kept his mouth shut) so why was he suddenly acting all awkward and-

"You know, as much as I appreciate you sticking up for me as usual, you should probably go back to your fiance." Terry said, interrupting my thoughts.

I glanced back at him in confusion and he outright laughed at me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my annoyance shifting toward him. Terry grinned.

"I'm saying you shouldn't be so hard on your fiance. He's just jealous."

"George isn't jealous." I rolled my eyes.

"No?" Terry challenged.

I nodded and Terry asked, "Then how do you explain the way he acted?"

"I don't know." I exclaimed. "It was so weird of him too, usually he's so unflappable, so-"

"-So he must have it pretty bad if he can get that upset just because he saw you laughing with a male friend. A friend I'm assuming you've told him before is your best friend." Terry interrupted wisely.

I stopped walking and turned to look at Terry as the truth in his words hit me. He grinned.

"Come on, you know I'm right."

"This time." I muttered. Terry just placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Sure. Now go. I can find something for my dad, but I haven't seen you this happy since before Dumbledore died." His expression turned more serious but there was a quiet joy there as well. "I don't even remember the last time I heard you laugh like you did earlier. I'll be forever grateful to Weasley for being able to bring that back, so I'll let his attitude slide this time."

I made a face and Terry laughed.

"Besides, I know what it's like to like someone for a long time and feel jealous when I'm left out."

I gave Terry a questioning look but he just spun me around and then pushed me gently back in the direction we'd come.

"Come on, off you go!"

I glanced back at him, still puzzled by his last statement before I headed off to find George. He wasn't where we'd left him and I could only see Fred's flaming red hair bobbing around the store, so I ducked around back to see if I could find George in the storeroom. He turned around almost as soon as I entered the room.

"Hi." I spoke first when it was obvious George wasn't going to.

He shrugged. "So did Boot find what he came for?"

I thought about it and couldn't help but snort at the irony. "In a sense, I suppose he did."

George frowned and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"You really were jealous."

George's frown deepened and the most adorable pout appeared on his lips. This time, I laughed.

"I mean, Terry made sense but… really, George. Terry's like my brother."

"I know that. And I trust you."

I snorted despite myself.

"Really." George stressed before he sighed. "But I can't help how I feel, even if it's irrational. It's like when we were back in school all over again."

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled. I hadn't realized George had liked anyone back in school - he and Fred had always kind of seemed like the kind of guys who were more interested in a good prank than in girls. Or was it that girl he'd gone to the Yule Ball with? Alicia… Spinnet, I thought her name was. Had he secretly liked her?

George cleared his throat and he shifted on his feet. I recognized the behaviour and I fully expected him to open his mouth only to shut it. I was surprised… especially by what did come out of George's mouth.

"The truth is… I've liked you for years, K.C."

I stared at him. He was joking… He had to be joking. Wasn't he joking? He wasn't smiling.

"That's not possible." I heard myself say. George pouted again.

"It's my heart - I think I'd know." He grumbled.

But I still couldn't believe it. I shook my head.

"Since when? We barely knew each other all through school, we weren't in the same classes or even the same year-"

"Since you were a Third Year and you punched Flint in the face." George answered, his gaze focused on the back shelf as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

I meanwhile continued to stare at him as the memory of the day he described sprang to mind. I remembered the incident well despite the fact that it had been years ago. Flint had been taunting Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, and calling her awful names. I'd stepped up to defend Cho, only for him to call me that word - the word Slytherins had for Muggleborns. I'd retaliated by punching him in the nose the way my dad had shown me, breaking it and making it gush blood. As he howled, I'd disdainfully looked down at him and noted that his blood didn't look any different from mine. And then...

"You really enjoyed rescuing what you perceived was a damsel in distress that much?" I asked.

George chuckled despite himself.

"I didn't think you were a damsel in distress. I know you could have taken him on even if he was older. But Gryffindor chivalry couldn't let me stand by." His eyes finally fixed firmly on me and my heart fluttered. Before it exploded when George added rather sternly, "And don't change the subject, Clarke - I just told you I'm in love with you."

My brain short circuited and I exclaimed, "That is not what you said."

"Well, I figured you were a smart Ravenclaw and could figure out that since I've held a torch for you for seven blooming years, it wasn't just a petty crush." George answered, the hint of his usual mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips again. Lips that looked very kissable.

"Why did you never say anything?" I asked, leaning in closer unconsciously.

George mirrored my movements and his gaze moved to my lips as he answered, "I didn't really know how. By the time I had worked up the nerve, there was Umbridge and then I was out of Hogwarts, and everything just kept piling up…"

We were inches away from each other now. I could see George's Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"It was just pure luck that the Ministry helped me out."

"Who knew I'd ever thank the Ministry for anything?"

We were now less than an inch apart. As George slowly moved closer, I whispered, "Hey, George?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you too." And then I kissed him.

Fifty years later

"What do you mean Gran and Grandpa got married because the government told them to?"

"I'm telling you, that's what Louise told me, apparently fifty years ago the Ministry-"

"That's so obviously a lie, I can't believe you fell for it. Why would people marry just because of some dumb law, think about it logically-"

"But Louise said!"

I was distracted from calmly eavesdropping on my grandchildren's argument outside (they really needed to learn that the hallway right outside the sitting room was very much not soundproof, especially when the door wasn't even fully closed) when my husband walked in from the kitchen door on the other side of the room. George raised a grey brow when he saw the amused smile on my face and he joked, "I don't have a stain on my shirt again, do I?"

"No, dear, you're fine." I laughed. "Although really, George, how you didn't notice the chocolate smears-"

"It's only because my wife makes the world's best cakes. I was too focused on enjoying it to notice anything else."

"Empty flattery." I scoffed. "You know I make all my cakes out of a box mix."

"Ah, Muggle inventions." George answered in a feigned dreamy tone.

I chuckled again and George settled in the armchair beside me. "So what were you smiling at then?"

"Oh, just the kids." I smiled again as I thought about the children's argument.

"What did they do now?" George wondered. I shook my head.

"Oh, it wasn't anything they did this time. But it seems that Donna's friend Louise told her about the Marriage Law."

"Ah." George nodded. "So, they've finally learnt about that little part of our history?"

"Not exactly." I told George what I'd overheard and he started laughing.

"Oh dear."

"Exactly." I nodded. George chuckled.

"You know, I'd pay good money to be there when know-it-all Peter finds out that Louise and Donna are actually right this time."

"He's not a know-it-all. He's just a good Ravenclaw." I objected but even I couldn't not smile.

George waved his hand. "He's clever, of course I'll give him that - but he's also a know-it-all, and this will be a good lesson for him to learn."

"Which is?" I asked, arching my own brow.

"That women are always right."

I burst out laughing and George joined in, both of us only laughing harder when we heard Peter screech from the other room, "What do you mean the Marriage Law was a real thing? Will I also have to marry someone by force in the future?!"

George sat back in his chair, roaring with laughter. His hand however moved to fall over mine. Our fingers interlocked out of habit, and in the dimming firelight my mother's old wedding ring gleamed on my finger.

I was happy.