Yellow (George Weasley)

77 - A Surprising Dinner

George nervously tapped his wand against his hand as I made myself presentable. We agreed to meet my dad for dinner tonight. I could hear the excitement in his voice when I had phoned him to let him know, George on the other hand has looked sick ever since. It probably has something to do with the incessant teasing from his brothers the very minute I hung up the phone. Fred has made far too many jokes about George mysteriously disappearing.

The sound of dishes clanking together from downstairs signaled that Mrs. Weasley was just finishing up dinner for her own family. The house hadn't been quiet for days, which I imagine is how she prefer it given the last few years. I could hear George's siblings talking loudly in the sitting room as I pulled a pair of jeans up my legs, pairing it with a colorful blouse.

"Alright. I'm ready." I announced, fluffing my hair in the mirror. I couldn't deny the bout of nerves bubbling up in my own stomach now that the time had come to leave.

"Are you sure it's safe for you to Floo?" George mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as we began to make our way back downstairs.

"George." I turned on the stairs to quirk a brow at him. "You're not trying to make excuses again are you?"

Bill and Fred snickered from their spots on the couch, Charlie smirking as he leant up against the kitchen counter with a cup of tea in his hand. Their brother shot them a glare before turning back towards me. "I'm just a little bit nervous is all."

I lifted off my heels to place a quick kiss to his cheek. "He'll be fine, love. My dad is a huge softy." I assured him with a smile. His features relaxed slightly under my touch, his large hand encased in mine.

"Well, George." Bill's voice interrupted the brief composure as he stood, slowly sauntering towards his younger brother. "I'm really going to miss you."

I rolled my eyes as the three boys continued to laugh.  Their laughter drowned out the noise of the kitchen and gained the attention of the Weasley parents. "I'll keep the shop running for you." Fred added, struggling to keep a straight face.

"Boys." Mr. Weasley held back his own laughter to scold his sons.

Mrs. Weasley thwacked each of her cackling sons on the back of the head with the dish towel she was brandishing before turning towards George and I. "You'll be fine, dear. Now you best get going. John was expecting you ten minutes ago." She glanced over at her magical clock.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to have to explain two reasons why Leah is late." Fred could barely get through the sentence without cracking up. The rest of the room joined him in laughter—even I couldn't help myself. George however still had his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Let's go." I grinned up at him, pulling him by the arm towards the large stone fireplace.

Despite the news we'll have to give, I'm so excited to see my dad for the first time in forever. "I'm going first...you're incredibly clumsy in the Floo." George climbed into the fireplace before I could attempt to defend myself. He grabbed a fistful of Floo powder from the clay pot, throwing it down so the green flames licked at the bottoms of his beige pants. "Watford Road!"

I followed shortly after until I found myself stumbling into the familiar cozy living room. The smell of my home instantly greeted my nose. George reached out a hand to sturdy me. "See?" He rose his eyebrows with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "I'll get it one day." The room surrounding us was almost exactly how I left it nearly two years ago. There was a new chain lock on the front door and leaning beside it was an old bat we used to play ball with in the summer. I bit back my own smile knowing my dad surely thought that would be enough to defend him against any Death Eaters that came by. He has seen the movie Home Alone far too many times—though I imagine some of those tricks would have worked on someone like Travers.