To Woo a Witch

Thanks you, Amsev, for all your time and patience cleaning up all my mistakes and errors. Amsev you're the greatest. How did I ever get so lucky?

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~o 2 o~

To Woo A Witch

George spent the next two days trying to find time alone with Lydia. The problem was now that Mrs. Weasley knew about the baby she was rarely alone. Lydia's sister-in-law, Mary, had owled everyone in her family, and Lydia had gotten into a horrible row with her, so Mrs. Weasley had convinced Lydia to move into the Burrow until things settled down. Unfortunately, Lydia's parents didn't take the news of Lydia's pregnancy any better than her sister-in-law did, especially since she was having her dead boyfriend's baby and was unmarried. Then news came that Lydia was carrying twins, and her family became even more insistent that she not carry the twins to term, but allow them to be switched to surrogates. Lydia was adamant that she wanted to keep her babies, and her relationship with her family deteriorated to shouting. Lydia fled to the Burrow and the support of his family. Still, single, unwed mothers were not looked upon too favorably in wizarding society, and George really took Lydia's chastisement to heart. He could help her if only she'd let him.

One night at the Burrow, he was finally able to corner Lydia in Bill's room. "Lydia, really, it's the next best thing, right? Look, is it my ear?"

"No, it's not your ear," she replied, shaking her head. "You only want to because of the twins."

"No, I really want to," he persisted.

She backed away from him, walking over to the crib his parents had set up in the room. "I can't – it wouldn't be right," she said with a deep sigh.

"Who says? Look, I really like you, always have," he said.

She looked up at him and tilted her head, her hand rubbing the rail of the crib. "But you've never shown me any interest before?"

He plunged his hands into his pockets. "You were seeing my brother! What was I supposed to do?" he asked, hoping she'd see reason. "I'd have been a right prat to hit on you while you were a couple."

"And suddenly, now you love me so much you want to marry me?" she asked with mild indignation.

"Lydia, if you'd showed me any preference over my brother... if you'd asked me to help you with your spell work instead of Fred that night, sat on my bed in the hospital wing instead of his, or that night you twisted your ankle coming down the Astronomy tower and asked me to help you instead of Fred... these would be my kids."

Her expression turned to one of amused shock. "Oh, you think so? A bit self-assured are we?"

"Yes," he replied. "Look, I wanted to date you, but Fred and you got together so I backed off. But, if he'd dumped you, I would have asked you out."

"Really?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, maybe," he said as he withdrew his hands from his pockets and held one out toward her. "But this is different."

"How's that?" she asked, looking at him as if he were nutters.

I've seen that look a hundred times before. "He's dead, so you'd be like a widow... only you weren't married. Lydia, you know that unwed mothers are frowned upon. I want to spare you that. I want to raise Fred's twins, yours and Fred's," he rambled the speech he'd practiced a dozen times in the mirror. Somehow, it didn't sound as convincing as when he'd said it in his loo. "I'd love these kids as if they were my own. Really."

"I have no doubt that you'd love my babies; my doubt is whether you love me – me. I'm half of this package, and when they go to Hogwarts, then what? What if we've made a mistake, and you and I aren't suited? Then what? I don't want to divorce... nor do I want a marriage of convenience."

"You were suited for Fred?" he retorted, hoping that she'd see his logic.

She obviously didn't. "That's different," she answered him.

"How?" he persisted. "No one could tell us apart growing up – not even my mum. And you – you were constantly confusing us for the other."

"You'd switch your names on me! Fred told me!" she exclaimed and tears welled up in her eyes.

Great. Don't make her cry, idiot! "Well, yeah, that was before you started showing us any interest," George tried to explain.

She lowered her gaze to the two stuffed teddy bears sitting in the crib. "I was interested in you since fourth year."

"See, you were interested in me, then," he said hopefully.

"You were not interested in me in fourth year, in fact you never showed interest in me at school," she pointed out. "I was even hoping you'd take me to the Yule Ball but you didn't."

"Yes, I was... Okay maybe I was a bit thick. I could've been. I didn't know," he stammered, and she looked at him incredulously. "Too many Bludgers to the head."

"You were never hit by a Bludger, you were too good," she replied, shaking her head.

"Thank you," he said with his most winning smile. "Marry me."

"No."

"Why are you making this so difficult?" he asked, walking over to her.

"I'm not, I'm being practical," she answered as he placed his hands lightly on her waist.

She didn't pull back or resist so he took a risk and pulled her closer to him. "Practical would be letting me raise these kids with you and marrying me."

"Not practical – convenient," she said with a sigh, not meeting his eyes.

"Then simply have dinner with me," he suggested, brushing a tear from her cheek.

She thought about it a while. "Okay, when?"

"Every night for the rest of your life," he replied, pulling her into a hug.

She didn't resist him, but her arms didn't move any further than his waist as he held her. "I'll think about it."

~x~

Lydia spent the week working in the back room, charming objects for the shop. She was finished charming the trick wands and playing cards that afternoon. So far she had spent most of her evenings with him, but frequently, dinners were at the Burrow rather than alone in his flat. Still, she was spending more time with him than without. But George wanted her to spend time in his flat with him, alone, so that he could flirt and tease with her easier and get her to realize that she could love him as much as he cared for her. That wasn't so easy to do in the shop with customers needing his attention or at the Burrow with his mum's constant presence.

So it was fortuitous when Hermione stopped by the shop to have lunch with Ron and while he was still busy packing up the last of the owl orders that had to go out that day. George took advantage of the situation and pulled her aside to ask Hermione's advice regarding Lydia. "Hermione, you're good with understanding girls," George asked. "Can I ask you something?"

Hermione looked at George, confused. "Sure."

George watched as Verity walked over to assist a group of giggling girls over by the Pigmy Puffs. "I want to marry Lydia," he said just getting to the point of the matter.

His seriousness must have caught her off guard. "Okay?" she asked, shrugging. "And the problem is?"

"She said no," he clarified for her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Did she say why?"

He took a deep breath and picked up a feather quill out of a bin of trick rubbers some customer misplaced. "She didn't want a marriage of convenience, and she said I only want to marry her because of the babies."

"Is that true?" she asked, eyeing the feather cautiously.

"NO! Okay, at first – yeah, sort of," he said, looking at her, the feather tip pointing at her chest. "I like her loads. I would've dated her if Fred hadn't first."

"But he dated her first, and she doesn't feel the same way for you that she did for him," Hermione summarized. "You're not Fred."

"I'm as good as," he argued.

"But you're not him – you're you. She sees the difference. You're his brother, her friend and boss. It's got to be a little weird to her to – um – switch brooms like that," she explained.

"Fred and I had the same brooms," he replied. "We switched brooms all the time."

"Yes, but it's like... Okay, it's like you wearing Fred's pants," Hermione replied, trying another comparison.

"Done that loads of times," he said. What does this have to do with trying to get Lydia to marry me?

Hermione held up her hands and grimaced. "Not a picture I really wanted in my head, thanks," she said with a laugh.

George suddenly caught on to his slip and blushed. "No, they'd be clean, Hermione!" he said, catching her innuendo. "Mum wouldn't fold anything, so we'd just divide and dump. Heck, even the house-elves got our stuff mixed up."

"Don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" she asked, laughing. "Ok, she kissed Fred. Obviously, she shagged him. Now, she's faced with the idea of being with you, and she's probably wondering if every time she kisses you, who will she be thinking about? You or Fred. And, if she shags you, will she wish she was with Fred or will she be happy it's with you? And if she starts anything with you, is she only with you because you're so like Fred in the first place? In a way you are very much like your brother, and if you two did get together, it might feel like she was just accepting a replacement look-alike for him."

"Oh. Oh... right," he stammered as he sorted out what she said in his mind. "Blimey, I didn't think on it that way. Thanks!"

"You have to convince her you are you and not Fred. And help her see the real you – your differences," she said, smiling as Ron appeared to take her to lunch.

"'Mione, I'm ready to go."

"Yeah, you go, have a good time. Hermione, thanks, I really appreciate it," George said, leaning against the counter looking at the quill still in his hand.

Hermione smiled encouragingly. "Anytime. Good luck."

George watched her leave, more confused than before they'd had their talk. Blimey, girls are complicated. He watched as three girls filled a shopping basket with Wonder Witch Products and even considered slipping Lydia one of his love potions. Nah, she'd hate me for it. I'll just have to woo her with my charming wit. I mean it's not like we aren't already friends. I'll just have to convince her I want more than friendship. I want a family.

~x~

George had been sweeping the front door as Verity and Lydia finished straightening up the sales bins and returning the misplaced items to their proper places. There were still six potions simmering in the back room to be added to the biscuits and candies used in the Skiving Snackboxes. He was going to ask Lydia to stay and help him, hoping she'd say yes. He really liked working after hours with her and knew that she did, too. He waited until both girls went to hang up their magenta robes before approaching Lydia. "Hey, do you have a moment?"

Lydia turned around. "Sure, what's up?" she asked.

"I wanted to know if you'll stay and help me with the Snackboxes?" he asked, hoping the excuse didn't sound lame.

"Doesn't Ron usually help you with those?" she asked, confused.

George shrugged, knowing that he'd given Ron the evening off with the excuse of revising for his Auror training exams next week. "He's not coming in tonight, exams. So I could use the help."

She shrugged and turned around to retrieve her robe. "I can if you like."

They started on the Canary Creams, which now came in six variations, each making the person who ate the cream turn into a canary of different colors, the most popular being yellow, red, green and blue hues, although lavender and orange sold fairly well. "Have you given any thought to where you'll live when the babies are born?" he asked, smearing the filling on the crisp biscuits.

"Your mum insists I stay at the Burrow," Lydia stated.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she careful smeared the cream fillings. "Things aren't going well with your sister-in-law?"

She shook her head. "Mary's still nagging me about keeping Fred's babies. Richard came home over the weekend, and they had a discussion about me. It was like I wasn't even there. I'm nineteen for crying out loud – you'd think I was still a minor. Everyone wants to decide for me."

George took the tray she'd finished and began filling the boxes. "You are welcome to move in here."

"That's thoughtful of you. Seems I have several places I could live, your parents' place, my brother's, my friend Robin offered," she said, concentrating on the next set of creams. "Mum and Dad are still disappointed in me and aren't offering to help, but that's all right. I wouldn't want to move home and deal with Mum's and the twins' constant... Well, that's not an option."

"But what do you want?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant yet supportive at the same time.

"I like working here. I was saving up for a flat of my own, but that's been changed. I dunno. Either stay with your parents or my brother's place with Mary. Richard travels all the time, so it's just her and me..." She sighed heavily. "Mary and I get along, but she's so demanding and opinionated. She's smothering me all the time."

"Like my mum is, I suppose," he said with a grin. "Offer still stands. Move in with me. It's close to work, you won't have to Floo or Apparate, I'm a decent cook, even if I do say so myself, and you're not to far from your Healer here."

"You just want me to move in," she said, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

"Look, the flat is right upstairs. You can keep the twins here in the back room while you work or up in the flat. I can rig something so that you can hear the babies if they cry or need you," he replied, stacking the ready boxes on the back counter. And yes, I want you here. We get along grand, don't you think?"

"People would get the wrong idea, me living with you," she said, sliding a completed tray of creams to his side of the workbench.

"Let them. It's the idea I'm hoping you'll get that matters anyway." He stopped and turned to face her. "Lydia, I really like you. Well, it would be premature to say I love you, but I do."

She blushed and turned away from him. "It just still feels weird, me seeing you."

She dropped her knife, and George pulled her into a hug. "It will be okay with me, you know. I know you like and respect me. We're good friends and all. Can't that be the basics of us getting married, being good friends? Who knows, you may even come to love me someday."

She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I already love you, just not like that," she said.

"That's a start," he said, kissing her temple.

"Oi, what's going on here?" Ron asked, standing in the doorway.

Lydia was the first to pull away, blushing profusely. "Ah, er, nothing. Just filling creams."

George had no idea that Ron had come into the shop or how long he'd been standing there. "I thought you wanted the night off?"

Ron looked angry. "You offered to let me have the night off, but I came in anyway. So, what's this, you moving in on Fred's girl?"

"It's not like that, and it's none of your business," George said defensively. Leave it to Ron to come in and spoil my plans.

"She's carrying Fred's twins," Ron said indignantly.

"I'm aware of that," George snapped back.

"You've asked her to move in with you," Ron said sounding accusingly judgmental.

"Yes, he has," Lydia stated. "So what?"

Ron looked at her aghast. "You're not married to him and you're not a couple," he said. "People will talk."

"So, what? It's not as if I didn't propose to her," George stated, wishing Ron would mind his own business. "Besides, it makes good sense."

"What does? Shacking up together?" Ron asked, crossing his arms.

"Us, Lydia and me. Me marrying her and raising Fred's kids," George said, hoping to get his baby brother to see reason.

"You're nutters!" Ron exclaimed.

"I love her," George stated. This was not how he wanted the evening to go. He wanted to convince Lydia to move in, not shout about it with Ron as if she weren't standing beside them. "It's what we were talking about, Ron. It's her..."

"Stop it – just stop it! It's not up to you, either of you! It's up to me!" Lydia pulled off her work robes and tossed them on the floor. "I have to decide what's going to be best for my twins and for me! If you're just going to fight over this – I'm leaving!" She stormed form the room in tears.

"Bugger, you are mental, Ron! How can you be so thick? Who else should raise Fred's kids? Do you really think it would be best if she raised them on her own? She's a single parent and only nineteen. I have a flat and a thriving business, and technically those kids are family – she's as good as family. So what is your problem?"

Ron's ears turned beet red. "I didn't see it that way."

"Well, I have! And I want to marry her," he responded angrily. "So if you're done making things even more difficult for Lydia, maybe you could start mixing the ingredients for the Whiz-Bangs!" He picked up the completed Snackboxes to stock the shelves. "Make yourself useful or go home."

~x~

George arrived outside the Burrow, flowers in hand to see Lydia. Actually the flowers were for his mum to soften her up after the ridiculous owl he'd received. Apparently, Ron had blabbed to everyone that George had proposed to Lydia and that she'd moved in with him. Mrs. Weasley put her foot down saying that the girl couldn't live with him as it wouldn't seem proper. He had no idea why it would seem improper for a pregnant, single girl to reside in his flat. Blimey, she'd have her own room! She used to stay with Fred and me loads of times. I mean, bloody horntails, it's not like I don't have good intentions!

Just before he opened the door, George heard Lydia's voice through the open window. "Charlie proposed to me, too. What is it with the males in your family?

Ginny's voice followed. "That's disgusting. He hardly knows you!" George leaned against the house, listening in and hoping that maybe Ginny would talk some sense into Lydia. At the least he'd know what the girls thought.

"Are all Fred's eligible brothers going to propose to me? Even Percy sent me an owl asking what he could do," Lydia asked.

"They are only trying to look out for you, dear," Mrs. Weasley stated.

"Ron is telling everyone that George is trying to pull Lydia," Ginny said and giggled. "So it may seem like all my brothers are trying to snag you. But I know Ron isn't. He still wants to marry Hermione."

George stifled a laugh. Good match, Ron. All you two do is fight and argue when you're speaking with each other. You'd be better off with Lavender Brown!

"Charlie doesn't think George is mature enough to be a dad," Ginny added, "but I'd have to disagree. I mean he could easily support you, and he does really like you."

"That's the problem, he likes me. I still think he's only doing this because of the babies," Lydia said. She sounded sad to George.

"Do you like him, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"He's my best friend and my boss. That's hard enough," Lydia said.

"Do you trust him?" Mrs. Weasley asked. George couldn't hear Lydia's response. "Do you respect him? He's been nice to you, hasn't he? Has he ever shown you any indication of what he may feel for you?"

George was frustrated; Lydia wasn't answering his mum's questions verbally, so he had no idea how she was responding.

"Do you like George?" Mrs. Weasley continued. "Do you think you could be happy with my son?"

He wished that he could turn into a fly or a beetle and sit up on the windowsill to watch the girls inside.

"I think that's what you should be thinking about: what would make you happy. Either way, know that Arthur and I will be happy to have you stay here until you work things out. However long you need."

George decided it was time to face the girls. He opened the door smiling as if he'd not heard a word spoken and hoped it disguised the concern he felt. "Hi, Mum, Gin. How are you, Lydia?"

"The same I was fifteen minutes ago in the shop," Lydia said with a chuckle.

"Well, you never know, one of my daft brothers may have made some lame blunder and upset you. I know Ron has been a prat lately." He handed the flowers to Mrs. Weasley. "Apologies for being a daft prick myself," he said. "So, did you change your mind and want to marry me?"

Lydia shook her head, but at least she was smiling. "No, I haven't."

"Well, I'll wear you down eventually," he said, grinning. "I mean how can you resist my magnetic charm and good looks?"

Ginny pulled on George's arm and leaned in close to his good ear. "You were listening, weren't you?"

"I heard a little," he admitted.

Ginny gave his arm a playful shove, then pulled him back down to her. "If anyone should raise Fred's twins, it should be you, not Charlie. She'll come around. You've just need to keep reassuring her, that's all."

~x~

It had been nearly three months since George's grand announcement to the entire family about Lydia's babies, and he had used that time to try and convince her that he wanted to marry her for her. At least he and Lydia were spending their evenings together, either in the shop or at the Burrow, and she'd even agreed to go out with him on dates. However, she was reluctant to go up into his flat. He started bringing her bouquets of flowers entwined with ivy: roses, carnations, daffodils, stargazer lilies and sunflowers knowing that water avens would only remind her of Fred. He was thankful to Ginny when she handed him a list of flowers and their meanings so he wasn't sending the wrong messages.

Charlie had returned to Romania, but he still sent regular owls to Lydia and made it quite clear in each letter that he'd still marry her. He even sent her forget-me-nots. It made George laugh. Lydia's brother was starting to be more supportive, but Mary was now pregnant herself, and Lydia didn't really want to add her burdens in the house, knowing that she was having twins. Two newborns would be enough of a handful, but the idea of three in one house was making Mary anxious. George couldn't have been happier about the news and regularly suggested baby names, usually ones that rhymed. Still his biggest concern was Lydia's parents.

Lydia had agreed to let George fly her to her parents' home for dinner, mostly because she didn't like facing them on her own. Her mum was cordial enough, but her father pulled George aside and had the 'talk' about intentions, responsibilities and commitments. In the end, the best part of the dinner had been the pudding and the flight back to the shop. It was also the first night Lydia had stepped into the flat since the battle at Hogwarts.

They were on the floor, leaning against the couch, legs stretched out, sitting on a fur rug by the Floo and sipping on grape juice. "I'm really sorry about my dad; he's usually a really nice guy."

"Well, he definitely got the right impression, I think," George stated, moving his arm to rest on the couch behind Lydia's head. "I do still want you to marry me." He started to play with her hair, enjoying the soft texture between his fingers.

She sighed and leaned into him. "I know you do. I'm beginning to think it may not be a bad idea."

"Really?" he asked, trying to control his grin.

"Well, don't look so smug about it," she chided him. "You've hardly given me any time to myself, and you've been the most persistent suitor I think a girl could ever have."

He set his glass down and then took hers. "You know I really do care for you. You. Not just because of the twins." He tipped her head gently to place a gentle kiss on her lips. She usually pulled back when he tried to kiss her, but this time she didn't, encouraging him on and even placing her hand on his chest so she could lean in closer to him. It was all the indication he needed. His arms went around her and their kiss deepened. He wasn't going to push her, not tonight, but he'd wanted this tenderness from her, and he was going to savor every minute. The log in the Floo crackled as it split in two, but neither George or Lydia cared.

"I think you should stay here tonight," he said softly as their kiss ended. "I mean, I'd really like you to stay."

She smiled and nodded. George helped her to her feet, holding her hand as they walked over to the bedrooms. She looked at Fred's door with an expression of longing sadness, and he pulled her into his arms. "If I'm going to do this, I think I would prefer your room," she said softly, hugging him back.

"Sure, I can sleep in Fred's room if you like," he replied, looking down at her.

"No, with you. I'm not really ready for anything physical, yet, but would you mind just holding me?" she asked, uncertainty in her voice.

"I'd like that," he replied, pushing open his door. "I even bought a bigger bed, just in case, for when I finally convinced you."

"How presumptuous of you," she said back, following him into his room.

"I like to think of it as prepared."

~x~

Author's Notes: