Rules

Chapter 24: Rules

Winter 1996

"I think I'll take the first one after all, dear," the quavering old voice said.

"Certainly, Mrs. Monroe. Let me get that for you right away," Annie answered in her friendliest clerk voice as she turned to scoot the ladder as far as it would go along its tracks to the right.

Annie had taken the part-time job at the paper store as a favor to her friend Jane's mother, who had opened the little shop as a sort of hobby two years ago. Mrs. Moruki did a bustling little business in stationery and art supplies out of the tiny storefront in downtown Honiton and had claimed to be in desperate need of holiday help. Annie was only too happy to help out her friend's mother, who had been such a gracious host to her for so many years, as well as collect a few more paychecks to help cover her extra holiday expenses this year.

Annie climbed up the little stepladder, grateful it was attached to the wall and therefore far less wobbly than the one at home. Of course the desk set Mrs. Monroe wanted to buy would be on the highest, least accessible shelf. This is going to take some acrobatic maneuvering, she figured as she rose up on her toes, stretching her fingers, leaning over the side of the ladder as far as she dared. One more inch....

Just then, the bell chime on the door rang.

Damn! Another customer and only five minutes before closing time, she thought ruefully. Annie's hopes to dash out right at six p.m. were now looking dim. Still straining to reach the box, Annie called out to her co-worker in the back storeroom. "Natalie, could you come out to the front and help the new customer?" she asked without taking her eyes off the package that was her goal.

At the periphery of Annie's vision, she saw Natalie's head pop out from behind the curtain, then smile broadly.

"I think they're here to see you, Annie," Natalie chuckled inscrutably.

Rather than waste effort pondering the mysterious comment, Annie held her breath and stretched once more, willing the box to come to her.

In the next instant, the box in question did indeed begin to slide of its own accord off the shelf and into her outstretched fingers. Annie struggled to contain her surprise as well as maintain her grip on the levitating box in order to make it appear like she was in control of what was happening. It floated slowly off the shelf, made a right turn, and headed toward the top of the ladder.

"Hi, Annie! Hi, Natalie!" came two very familiar voices from behind her. Even though they spoke in unison, she could hear how each voice was slightly more enthusiastic about a different name.

They were followed by a girlish giggle and, "Hello," in return.

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. "I've got the box right here, Mrs. Monroe," Annie announced, far more for the shop's newest visitors' benefit than her customer's. With the box now firmly tucked under her arm and obeying the law of gravity once more, she made her way back down the ladder, unable to completely smother an amused smile.

As Annie hopped off the ladder and turned to face the store, she was unsurprised to see Fred and George grinning at her. Old Mrs. Monroe was absentmindedly humming along to the Christmas carol playing on the store's little radio; it was unclear if she had even noticed the newcomers' arrival. Annie rang up her purchase and sent her along her merry way, turning over the "CLOSED" sign as she shut the door and called out, "Happy Christmas!" to the little old lady's backside.

"You can finish the closing up on your own, can't you, Annie? I'll just keep Natalie company outside while she waits for her ride," said Fred, smiling at her coworker, leaning across the counter toward her.

"Actually, Natalie, I need to you stock up the bags for tomorrow, if you don't mind, while I close out the drawer," she countered.

Annie felt sorry for her as Natalie's hopeful and smiling face fell, but there was no way she was leaving that poor girl alone to fend off Fred. She was far too young and far too attractive for her own good. "Then we'll all wait with you," she promised with a sympathetic smile.

Once Natalie stepped behind the stockroom curtain, Annie returned Fred's unamused smirk with one of her own.

Annie and Natalie worked quickly to finish the day's work, both of them eager to get on with the evening. As a result, Natalie was rewarded with nearly ten minutes worth of flirting from Fred at his most charming – properly supervised by Annie, of course – while they waited for her older brother to collect her. As Natalie was driven away, fingers waving shyly and somewhat reluctantly goodbye, Annie turned to scold her friend.

"Fred! She's only fifteen, remember?"

"Which means she'll be sixteen soon, if my math is correct. I wonder when's the happy day? D'you know?" he asked eagerly.

"I wouldn't tell you if I did!"

Annie shook her head, laughing as the three of them walked down the street to the nearby pub. George had taken her hand and stuffed it into his jacket pocket to keep warm. It was a lovely evening: flurries of snow lightly falling but melting instantly – beautiful and festive but without the lingering mess of accumulation.

"She's an impressionable young girl, full of romantic idealism. The last thing she needs is a broken heart, Casanova," she teased.

Fred rolled his eyes and snorted. "I forgot I was with the Puritanical League tonight. What fun," he said as he opened the door of the pub, holding it for them as they walked in, then grabbed a table.

"That's exaggerating things a bit," she giggled as George helped her out of her coat. It was true that Fred was far more focused on variety, rather than actual depth of feeling, than she and George were, but that hardly meant they qualified as saints.

"I'm sick to death of all this holiday music. Go find something good, will you?" she begged as she tossed several coins across the table at Fred.

Fred collected the change as he rose to patronize the jukebox, fishing out a few coins from his own pocket as well. Annie turned to George for a quick kiss as they sat alone for a few moments, hidden from general view in the booth.

"That was hardly puritanical, now, was it?" George chuckled as the kiss lasted a good bit longer than Annie had originally intended.

She giggled in agreement. Then she quickly rang her Gran, checking in on her and letting her know where she was.

"How is she?" asked George with polite concern.

"Fine. Dinner will be ready when we get there. You're staying for a while tonight, yes? For presents?" she asked. She was terribly excited to see his reaction to the gifts she had bought him this year. They had never exchanged anything much more than gag gifts at birthdays in the past, so she was quite a bit nervous as well.

George smiled and nodded. "I'll stay until she kicks me out," he laughed, pulling her close for another kiss. "Or longer..." he whispered tantalizingly in her ear before nibbling on it.

"Bloody hypocrites! You think you're the only ones who deserve any fun?" whined Fred as he returned to the table with their pints, interrupting another kiss.

"Shut up, Fred," Annie and George said in unison, separating themselves to a more respectable, yet still cozy distance.

"Shut up, Fred," he mimicked them in a grating falsetto voice.

"Whine about it all you want. Fact is, until Natalie turns sixteen, she's off limits to the likes of you. She's what you call jailbait, mate," Annie said with a laugh.

Fred snorted again. "What do you think you are, Little Miss Muggle?" he argued.

Annie sat up ramrod straight. "What are you talking about? We're eighteen."

Fred looked pointedly at his brother. "George knows what I mean," he said cryptically.

"What does he mean, I'm jailbait?" she demanded, turning to George.

George shook his head. "He's exaggerating, as usual."

"Exaggerating!? So there's some truth to it? What am I doing wrong now?" Annie whined, exasperated.

"You're not doing anything wrong. Romeo here is," explained Fred, smiling smugly, apparently pleased by her reaction.

"One of you had better start making sense," Annie threatened slowly, feeling her temper starting to flare.

"You're a Muggle. He's not. That's a bit of a no-no where we come from," explained Fred when George refused to participate in the conversation, crossing his arms in front of his chest and glowering at him instead.

"That's not true and you know it. Stop trying to scare her. There's no law against our kind mixing with Muggles," said George dismissively.

"There is when they know as much about us as she knows," Fred argued.

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Annie asked, truly agitated now.

"What Fred is referring to – and blowing completely out of proportion, I might add – are the secrecy laws, which you already know all about."

"Still not following. I've known about you lot for ages, and nothing's happened yet. I mean, you don't have the Trace anymore, right? Nobody keeps track of you like that now."

"Exactly my point. There's nothing to worry about," agreed George.

Fred snorted a third time, and George bristled at the sound.

"You really ought to get that looked at, you know," warned George with a glare at his brother.

Fred ignored the latter comment and continued, "Like you can guarantee that. You're not exactly hiding out here, are you? Why not be honest with her? She deserves to know the whole truth."

"That's true, George," Annie said worriedly. "We're out in public right now, in fact. What could happen if someone saw you and me together?"

"Nothing! Like I said before, there's no law against you and I being together!" George said vehemently.

"Maybe not, but there is a law against doing a certain something in front of any of them, present company technically included," Fred argued.

Annie's eyes grew wide, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth as understanding began to dawn on her. The levitating box, right there in front of Mrs. Monroe and Natalie....

"And since there are no witnesses to this alleged activity, the issue doesn't exist!" George spoke softly but with feeling.

"But George, what if there were?" Annie cried. "Like today, in the shop.... What if somebody else saw it?"

George sighed, then patiently began to explain. "Annie, the only remote chance there could be a problem is if I did it... in front of a Muggle... who realized what was actually happening," he said, ticking each requirement off on his fingers.

"Meaning me," she smirked. She was pretty sure neither Mrs. Monroe nor Natalie had seen the box defying the laws of physics, but could not say the same for herself.

"And it was witnessed by another wizard," he added.

Both of them looked directly at Fred, the only such person who fit that particular bill, who rolled his eyes in response.

George continued, "Who not only could identify me positively but then further chose to report the incident to the authorities."

"Then it's off to Azkaban for you, mate," taunted Fred with a smirk, followed by a long drink of ale. "Jailbait, just like I said. While you, darling Annie, would get a date with an Obliviator. And don't think for a moment I'm not tempted."

"Azkaban?" squeaked Annie. She had heard quite a bit about the wizard prison before now. A cold stab of fear penetrated her gut at the thought of George locked away with those horrible soul-sucking demons....

"Fred, you fucking git!" George snarled. "Stop it!"

He turned to Annie, holding her face in his hands. "For some idiotic reason, he's lying to scare you. No one is going to Azkaban. At most, I might be brought in for questioning. At most, understand? And then all I have to tell them is how much you mean to me...."

Fred nearly did a spit take, choking on his latest gulp of ale.

"Are you sure? Do you swear you can't get in trouble because of me?" cried Annie, terrified for his sake. Azkaban!

"Of course I swear! And it wouldn't matter to me even if I could," George declared earnestly, staring directly into Annie's eyes in an attempt to convince her.

"I think I'm feeling a bit queasy," muttered Fred.

"Then why don't you leave?" George spat, tearing his eyes away from Annie to glare daggers at his brother.

"Fine. I can tell when I'm not wanted," Fred complained, offended. Surely they knew he was only having a bit of fun winding them up, taking his revenge for Annie thwarting his flirtatious attempts with Natalie earlier. Some people can be so bloody sensitive!

"No, wait, Fred," said Annie, anxious herself to change the subject. "I brought your gift with me." She began to dig around in her satchel.

"You're still giving it to him after all that?" cried George in disbelief. They had been shopping together when she had bought it, so he knew what it was.

"Of course. I'm sure Fred was just trying to be a good friend to me, weren't you?" Annie asked scoldingly.

Fred had the decency to have difficulty with his answering smile as he took the box from Annie's outstretched hand. "Maybe I did exaggerate things a bit," he confessed as he tore open the paper. He chuckled as he read the words silk-screened onto the t-shirt: Drive it like you stole it.

"That's brilliant, Annie. Thanks. Erm... I sort of left your gift at home...."

George shook his head, knowing the truth. "You're so full of...."

"That's okay, Fred," Annie interrupted, letting him off the hook. "It's the thought that counts. Happy Christmas."

Fred tipped back his glass and drained the last of it. "Here... I'll get this, you two, and leave you to your plans, boring as they likely are," he offered, tossing some money on the table. "Happy Christmas, Annie. See you back at home, George," he said as he rose from the table.

Nearly two hours later, George and Annie were seated on the sofa in her front room. Her Gran had cooked dinner for everyone as her gift to them and had offered to clear the dishes as well. Normally, Annie would have refused to let her do either, but her Gran had been so excited to busy herself about the kitchen once again and had seemed so unusually full of energy that Annie decided to let her have her way. Annie suspected doing the dishes was also her Gran's way of giving them a little bit of privacy for the presentation of their gifts to each other.

Suddenly, Annie was a bundle of nerves. Never had she felt so much pressure to get something right. They had seemed a good idea at the time, but now.... She timidly held two small, wrapped packages out to George.

"Be honest and tell me if you don't like them. We can take them back and get something else, if you'd rather...."

"Don't be stupid, Annie. I'm sure I'll like them... if you give me a chance to open them, that is," he teased, tugging them out of her reluctant hands.

The first one he opened was a DVD documentary about the American Apollo missions. George was silently pouring over the thing, turning it over in his hands while reading it, obviously interested in the gift but unclear as to what exactly the thin box signified.

"There's a disc inside that will play this movie on the television any time you want to see it. Well, any time you're here, that is. Sort of an ulterior motive, I have to confess, to keep you here more," she explained with a sheepish smile.

"This is really cool! I love it!" George smiled reassuringly at her as he began to open the other, larger package. "Are these the same sort of thing?" he asked, sliding similar-looking cases out of a larger cardboard container built to house all three.

Annie nodded. "These are some old science fiction movies – a trilogy, actually, from before we were born. They're really good, though. I think you'll get a kick out of them. Lots of spaceships and aliens. I watched all three of them at Jane's once, one after the other. Took nearly all day."

She laughed at the memory of the marathon. Jane and her father were big science fiction buffs. She was confident George would get a kick out of the concept of The Force, as well.

"This is too much.... You went overboard," he argued absentmindedly, reading the back of each of the DVD cases in turn.

Annie sighed in relief, deciding he did seem to genuinely like the gifts. "We can watch one tonight, if you like. Something we can do in mixed company, if you know what I mean," she whispered.

George turned to her with a sly smile. "Sounds good to me. At least, for a start," he added, cocking his head to the side as he did. Then he carefully stacked all the boxes and set them aside. Next, he began digging through his trouser pocket.

"What are you doing? Keep your wand put away!" she hissed in alarm. After all they had just been talking about down at the pub?! What if Gran were to see?

George paused and looked at her in amusement. "Don't be so paranoid, Annie. I'm not an idiot, you know. Pockets carry more than wands, believe it or not," he said as he slowly drew his hand back out.

Annie's face flared in embarrassment at her mistake. The blush only deepened as she saw the small box now resting in his hand. She recognized the name of the business printed on the lid: it was a jeweler in Ottery. Annie had to make a conscious effort to close her mouth. She was speechless with shock.

"It won't bite, I promise," he said softly, still smiling, holding out his hand. He was obviously enjoying her reaction. "No fangs. No jinxes. Nothing funny at all, in fact."

Annie reached out slowly and took the box from his hand. She reminded herself to breathe as she opened the lid. Inside was the most delicate thing she had ever seen: a small, golden heart, formed into a lovely filigree cage, rested on a thin gold chain. It was only about as big as her thumbnail. It was perfect in proportion, design, and sentiment.

"Not too sappy, I hope. If you don't like it, we can take it back," he mumbled slightly nervously, throwing her own words back at her.

"Oh, shut up, will you?" she said without taking her eyes off the pendant.

George laughed. "Well, I've never seen you wear anything but earrings before, so I wasn't sure...."

He gently reached out to retrieve the box and gingerly removed the necklace from the display card. It looked even more delicate as it dangled from his large fingers. He reached around her neck and fastened the clasp.

"It's perfectly lovely, George," she said softly, resting her hand on his forearm as he tapped the little heart now resting on the tip of her breastbone with his finger.

"Something to remind you..." he whispered.

"Of what?" she asked, smiling in confusion.

"You have my heart, of course." He spoke the words directly in her ear, then kissed her.

"It should go without saying that you have mine," she added afterward.

"It does, but I still like hearing you say it," George chuckled.

They could hear Meredith pointedly making noise in the kitchen, finishing up with the dishes and preparing to join them in the front room. Annie chuckled at her grandmother's antics, letting them know she was on her way, warning them to wrap up anything they didn't want her to see.

"My goodness!" she exclaimed as she sat in the chair always reserved for her own exclusive use. "I'd forgotten how much work that is! I should help you out more often, Angharad."

"Don't be silly, Gran. And I told you I'd do the washing up later...."

"No, no. My treat. Takes a bit out of you, though," she sighed for effect. "I think I'll be turning in early tonight," she added, winking at George.

Annie could barely stifle a giggle. "Gran, you don't have to do that...."

"I'm seventy-eight years old, and there's not a bloomin' thing I have to do, young lady," she teased lightheartedly. "However, I'm tired, and I want to go to bed. I hope you don't mind, George, if I beg off playing hostess tonight. There's ice cream in the freezer if you two want afters," she teased as she stood up once again.

George had instantly liked Annie's grandmother when they had first met nearly six months ago, and Annie's Gran had endeared herself to him even further with her playful, pretend crotchetiness ever since. It was an added bonus that Meredith's antics would wind Annie up as well, and she'd usually make a point of trying to make it up to him later.

"Not at all, Mrs. Jones. Please don't stay up on my account," he said, playing along as he politely began to rise out of the seat to say goodnight.

"There now, see? You were worried about nothing, Angharad. George doesn't mind a bit if I abandon you tonight," she said. "For heaven's sake, sit back down, George. And happy Christmas, dear," she said as she patted his shoulder.

Annie rose to help her grandmother back to her bedroom as George returned the sentiment and sat back down. He quickly turned his attention back to his new DVDs as he waited patiently for Annie to return.

"Did he like the movies?" Meredith asked, smiling conspiratorially once they had slipped into her room.

"Yes, I think so," Annie laughed as she helped her Gran undress.

"I told you he would. And now you have nearly eight hours worth of cuddling on the sofa to look forward to."

"Gran! Mind your own business! I'm sure I don't understand what you're suggesting, anyway," she exclaimed in mock indignation.

"Pfft. I'm not so old that I don't have you figured out bang to rights, little missy."

"You really are a piece of work!" Annie laughed, shaking her head as she pulled the nightdress down over her grandmother's head.

"And what did he get for you, then?" she asked.

Annie's face raged with yet another blush, but an enormous grin spread across her face unabated. "This," she said, indicating the pendant draped around her neck.

"Ooh, that's lovely, that is," cooed her Gran in appreciation of the bauble. But then she began to cluck in disapproval. "That boy knows what he's about, that's for certain. One smooth operator, he is, make no mistake. I was going to extend visiting hours to midnight, but now I'm not so sure...."

"Gran, for heaven's sake," Annie groaned as she tucked the blankets around her.

"I'm only winding you up. Midnight it is. Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight, Gran," Annie whispered with a kiss.

Annie tiptoed back into the front room. George had opened the documentary DVD box and was carefully examining the disc inside.

"Mind you don't get any fingerprints on it," she instructed.

"How the bloody hell is a movie on this thing?" he exclaimed quietly.

"Well, I don't know the precise details, but... there are tiny little bumps on the shiny side, packed in there very tightly. The disc goes inside this machine here," she said, pointing to the DVD player under the television.

He rose to join her, and they were soon both kneeling in front of the machine. She indicated for him to push the button to open it, and his eyebrows rose in curiosity as the drawer slid out from its little garage in response. Annie showed him how to load the disc, then close the drawer again, as she turned on the power to the television.

"Now, there's a motor in there that spins the disc really fast, and a laser beam shines on it, and the computer inside reads the reflections of the laser light off the bumps. That's sort of it, in a nutshell."

George looked thoroughly perplexed. "If you say so," he mumbled as they stood up. "How is that any different than magic?"

Annie shrugged. It might seem pretty amazing, she supposed, especially to someone who grew up without electricity in the house. She began pushing the necessary buttons on the remote to start the program. "You don't have to be born with any special powers to watch a DVD," she argued.

"Tell that to the Muggle who invented this business," he chuckled as Annie led him back to the sofa. "Or that thing, for that matter," he added, indicating the remote with a nod of his head.

"Only some batteries and infrared light," she chuckled, "and very limited in its application. Not nearly as versatile as a wand," she added in a whisper.

The room was getting chilly, and the two of them arranged themselves as comfortably as possible on the sofa under an afghan. George was significantly interested enough in the subject matter to actually pay attention to it for the next hour and a half. And while Annie was a bit frustrated by that fact, she was far more pleased that he really did enjoy the gift, so she didn't attempt to distract him from the program.

Once the movie was over, however, and they sat in the darkness after the television was powered off, all other distractions were put aside for a while. It was getting much more difficult lately to rein themselves in when they had the rare chance to be alone. Despite what impressions Fred might have held, George and Annie were not so repressed that the sexual urges weren't there... and mightily hard to resist. They were even beginning to wonder why they were resisting them anymore.

Especially now. Tonight hadn't been the first time they had declared their love for each other. Far from it. In fact, it was just the latest in a long history of similar declarations they had made throughout the past fall. Declarations that strongly intimated a future committed to each other. And here, inside the dark, warm embrace of the person they loved, the idea of restraint was pushed far out of mind.

How could there be anything wrong with one more passionate kiss, one more loving caress, just a little bit more...?

From the back of the house, a cough echoed through the hallway, startling them back to their senses. They both froze as if caught by a searchlight. Annie's heart was racing in panic. She strained her ears, listening for telltale shuffling footsteps, but only hearing George's rapid, shallow breathing next to her own.

It was a false alarm – sort of. Gran was still safely asleep in bed; she wasn't about to discover them nearly in flagrante. But if it had been five minutes later, who could say? Slowly, reluctantly, they extricated themselves from the incriminating position they were currently in. Annie smoothed both her skirt and jumper back down to where they belonged.

George sighed in frustration. "One of these days...."

"I know," Annie sympathized.

It wasn't precisely a moral issue: neither of them believed premarital sex was ethically wrong. Not within the bounds of a love like theirs, at any rate. They both knew that they were meant for each other, and it was only a matter of time before the ultimate declaration of love was made between them.

But to another person in this house, it most certainly was an issue of morality, and Annie wasn't ready yet to take her betrayal of her grandmother's trust in her to that level. How much deceit stood between them already? Granted, it was all to keep her Gran safe and free of worry, but the years worth of lies were lies all the same. And they gnawed at Annie's heart all the time.

Annie checked the clock. It was already after midnight. "Won't your Mum be worried about you?" she asked in a whisper.

George snorted in the dark. "I'm betting she doesn't even notice I'm not there. The house is absolutely full. We're packed in like kippers! I probably don't even have a bed to return to; Bill's likely called dibs on mine already," he said softly, starting to kiss her neck again, attempting to prey on her sympathy.

It was working. Damn her body for being so slavish for him! Find your spine, you stupid cow, she urged herself. Preferably before you melt any further....

"What's a.... George, stop.... What's an Obliviator?" she finally managed to utter.

George sighed again, leaning his head back against the sofa in frustration. "I'm going to kill Fred for upsetting you about this, just so you know," he muttered.

"Not that you ever have to worry about it, but Obliviators are teams of wizards who help keep us all a secret," he explained. "Whenever a Muggle sees something they aren't supposed to and starts makin' noise about it, an Obliviator performs a memory charm to make him forget whatever it was he saw."

"Teams of them? Just how many are we talking about?" Annie asked, mildly alarmed.

"Dunno exactly. Sometimes a lot of Muggles stumble upon something all at once, if it's a big enough incident."

"So this is something that happens with some amount of frequency?" Annie was beginning to get agitated again. She definitely did not like the sound of these Obliviators.

"Please stop worrying about this," he begged her. "Nobody is going to turn us in because we're not doing anything wrong in the first place."

"It's not that I don't trust you, George...."

"Annie... look, there are loads of kids at Hogwarts with one Muggle parent and one magical one. That doesn't even count all the Muggle-borns. Now, I can't believe that not one of these Muggles has a clue what their spouse can do, or at the very least, their own kid.

"They have to know about magic. They have to have seen it for themselves. How could you be married to someone and not know? How could a wizard be married to a Muggle and not tell them?

"And they're not all being followed around by Obliviators at all times, memories wiped clean of every little odd incident. It just doesn't work that way. It can't. It's impossible. This secrecy thing is neither universal nor absolute."

Annie listened carefully to his argument and had to agree with the logic. All those marriages couldn't be based on such an enormous lie, could they? "So it's not that unusual? A couple like us?"

"Not remotely," he assured her. "We're not the first, nor will we be the last. In fact, if it wasn't for mixed marriages, wizard kind would have died out ages ago. Anyone with any sense at all realizes that."

"Anyone with sense? So there are some wizards who don't feel the same? Some who think it's wrong?"

George groaned. "I shouldn't have said that," he muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The truth is, yes, there are some nutters out there that think wizards should strictly stick to their own kind. But they're mental. Probably due to the inbreeding, if you ask me."

"And these are the wizards we have to hide from, then," she stated rather than asked. "This is why I can't come to London to see your shop."

"Not hide from, exactly. But maybe just... not flaunt ourselves. Not at the present time, anyway," he mumbled, sounding a bit less confident than before.

Annie stroked a finger along his jaw line. "I don't care if we have to live in a cave, as long as we can be together, and you can be safe," she whispered.

"That's taking it to an extreme, don't you think?" he chuckled. "And everybody's perfectly safe. I promise. When we do go out, it's almost always to a different spot and almost never here in Pottery." He bent close once more to kiss her. "Never drawing attention," he said, stroking her hair. "Always taking precautions," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

She burrowed a little deeper into his arms. Mmm. So warm. So dark. So very nice. Oh, yes, some more of that, please....

Oh, hell. Annie reluctantly pulled herself back mentally from the temptation to follow George down the path he was headed. She glanced at the clock once more; it was nearly one a.m. Another glance out the window showed her the snow really coming down now. It might even be a white Christmas if it keeps up like this, she thought.

Before she lost her concentration completely, she took his head in her hands and held it gently away from her. "It's getting really late, love. Gran'll have your hide... after tanning mine, that is. Time for you to head home to your crowded house."

"My over-stuffed room," he sighed for effect.

"Your already-occupied bed," she giggled. "It had better be Bill in it, that's all I have to say. Why isn't he in his own room?"

"Lupin's in there. Old family friend. Ginny's stuck with Fleur, and that's no picnic either."

"Who's Fleur?" Annie asked, brow furrowed.

"Remember that girl in the Triwizard Tournament? The one from Beauxbatons? Apparently she decided to stay here in Britain after the whole thing was over, got a job at Gringotts, and developed quite a thing for Bill. He's brought her home to meet the folks."

"And? This is sounding serious...."

George nodded. "Well... Mum can't really stand her, to be honest. Apart from Bill, of course – and Ron making a blithering idiot of himself whenever he's around her – nobody else can stand her, either."

Annie rolled her eyes, extremely doubtful of this paltry explanation. "This is the one who's part veela, right?"

"Oh, you remembered that bit, did you?"

She could hear the smile in his voice, even if it was too dark to see it. "So, I'm sending you home to a veela-infested house?" she cried softly in aggravation.

"You don't have to, you know. I won't tell if you won't." His purr-like voice rumbled deep in his chest as he began to nibble on her earlobe again.

"Very funny," she managed to say as she pushed him off of her once again. "Out!"

George heaved himself up off the couch with a dejected sigh. They stood together at the door, kissing far more chastely now that it was definitely goodnight.

"I probably won't be able to get away again until after Christmas," he informed her.

Annie nodded. The holidays were rightly reserved for family, after all. She owed it to her Gran as well, especially considering the plan now forming in her head. Because the situation was getting ridiculous. It was unfair to them both.

If only she could be allowed to visit his flat in London.... But then, what to do with Fred? Not to mention she now understood Diagon Alley was crawling with wizards that could report them to the Ministry busybodies. The wintry weather precluded anything outdoors, so that left only one option: the home she lived in, her grandmother's house. She was going to have to bite the bullet, add another deception to the already towering pile, and soon. The alternative was driving her mad.