***

It was that time again: Christmas.

George had been looking forward to this Christmas for a while, ever since the idea had finally hit him. He felt around in the pocket of his jacket. His fingers found the small velvet box. Good; it's still there, he thought.

They had been together a year now, and he still loved every minute he spent with her. She had even spent the night at his apartment a couple of times. The thought had found him on one of his many dates with Angelina.

They were at a Muggle restaurant in London, near the Leaky Cauldron. They were having a wonderful time, and planned to go to Florean Fortescue's in Diagon Alley after they finished. Angelina was telling George a delightful story about a Quidditch game she had seen recently.

"And then he turned around and someone from the stands threw pudding at him!" exclaimed Angelina, finishing her story.

"Who would do that?" asked George, thinking about how he should make a new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product that did that. It would be a bestseller!

"I don't know!"

She was so beautiful when she laughed. That was one of the many things George loved about her. She had tons of stories like this, and they were all magnificently funny. When they were together, they were almost always laughing. George knew his family liked Angelina too. They thought she was great for him, and that laughing was doing him some good. George couldn't help but agree.

She was so wonderful. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, he thought suddenly.

He had never thought anything like that before, and nobody else had ever made him feel that way. She was just so perfect. He had spent the rest of the date thinking about his feelings and about what he wanted to do. Was he ready for marriage? Was she? Was it too soon after they had started dating?

The next day, George expressed his ideas to Bill and his father. They were both married; they would know what to do.

"It's a wonderful idea, George," was his father's sensible reply.

Bill's, as he ruffled George's hair, "It's about time, little brother!"

George took that to mean that they didn't think it was too soon, or that they weren't ready. He then stopped at a jewelry store in Diagon Alley and found the perfect ring. It was a simple silver band with three tiny diamonds on it, the one in the middle slightly larger than the ones to its sides. It reminded George of how things were before the war: Fred, Angelina and himself. It was perfect. There was only one detail left: when was he going to propose?

George mulled this over for days before finally deciding on the perfect date: Christmas. At first he thought it was too clichéd, but he would make his proposal different. He was George Weasley! This would be the most amazing proposal in the history of man! He would make Fred proud; he knew he had liked Angelina.

***

Today was the day. The day to propose to Angelina. He could do this. He was George Weasley, and he would propose to Angelina. It would be amazing. Historic! He could see the headlines now: George Weasley Proposes to Girlfriend in a Way the World Will Never Forget. Now where was that bouquet?

He had invited Angelina over for breakfast on Christmas morning. His parents knew what he was planning, and that he would be late for the celebrations at the Burrow. If Angelina had been suspicious when he asked her over, she hadn't shown it. Yet another thing he loved about her: if he did something stupid, she wouldn't acknowledge it.

George had decorated his apartment surprisingly tastefully for this special day. He had even made breakfast - eggs, bacon, toast, and fresh orange juice. He had found gourmet strawberry jam - Angelina's favorite - in Diagon Alley earlier that week, and it was sitting out on the table as well, the smell very enticing.

He felt in his pocket again; the ring was there, waiting to be brought out in front of Angelina after breakfast. George walked over to the mirror hanging on the wall. He straightened his tie and jacket, checking his brow for sweat. He wasn't sweating too horribly just yet, but he was worried he would become a human waterfall once Angelina rang the bell. He was incredibly nervous.

Suddenly, he heard the bell ring. Angelina was here. Oh Merlin, Angelina was here! It was time. Finally, it was time. With one last glance in the mirror at his rapidly perspiring face, he walked over to the door and opened it.

Angelina was standing on the other side, just as he had known she would be. She looked beautiful, ready for a special day at the Burrow. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail behind her, and she wore a casual long-sleeved dress that ended right above her knees, the color like that of a sunset before a beautiful day. Her bronze skin glowed in the light emanating from the apartment, and she took George's breath away. He was aware that at the end of the day, assuming she accepted his proposal, he would be able to call this woman his fiancée, and that thought made him shiver with glee.

George let her in, unconsciously staring at her. "What?" asked Angelina, looking down at her dress. "Did I spill something on my dress?"

"Oh," George snapped out of his reverie, and started towards the kitchen, "no, you look beautiful."

"Thank you," said Angelina, smiling as George pulled out a chair for her.

They sat down and began to eat, George very quickly, trying desperately to cover up his nervousness. Angelina noticed, though, and stopped eating to watch him intently. "George," she questioned, "is there something wrong?"

"Wha-," George said around the food in his mouth, "nah, why?"

"You seem . . ." Angelina searched for the right word to describe George's behavior, "panicky."

George swallowed a particularly large bite of toast, "Panicky? Me?

"I'm George Weasley!" he puffed out his chest, trying to look masculine.

Angelina laughed, her eyes twinkling, "Yes, you are."

George seemed to have changed the topic sufficiently; Angelina was no longer questioning his calmness. He tried to keep it that way, and succeeded with telling jokes and stories about Bill and Fleur's daughter Victoire, who had been born earlier that year and was starting to get into things. Just that week, she had 'helped' him prank her father. After he had smeared whipped cream on Bill's hand and tickled his nose, he had sat Victoire on his stomach and ran out of the room.

Bill hadn't cared, and thought it was adorable. If he had known George was the actual prankster, he wouldn't have thought it cute. George would have a black eye.

Or, at least he would the way George imagined it.

He loved the way Angelina laughed. The sound was a good octave higher than her normal voice, and her eyes glistened when he said something funny. She looked so happy, and he loved to make her feel that way.

George had cleared his plate now, and Angelina only had a few bites left. It was almost time. George could feel his face beginning to turn redder, and he quickly wiped the sweat off of his brow with his napkin. He didn't want to be nervous like this, but he couldn't control his shakiness. He watched Angelina finish the last of her eggs, and stood to take her plate from her.

"That was delicious, George," she said as she used her napkin to wipe her mouth.

"Thanks," replied George, turning away so she couldn't see him blush.

Angelina got up and helped George with the dishes. He felt in his pocket again for the ring, and was glad when he found the velvety cube-shaped box under his fingertips. It was almost time, and he wasn't sure he was ready. This was a big day in his life, and he couldn't believe breakfast had gone so quickly. That was why he had served breakfast first, was it not? He needed to stall as much as he could.

Angelina was finished with the dishes now, and George led her to the sofa. "I need to go get your present," he told her, and disappeared into the bedroom.

Angelina heard shuffling and what sounded like a chair falling to the ground, and wondered what in the world it was George had gotten her that made such a racket. He walked out of the room coolly, looking as though nothing had happened.

The first thing Angelina noticed was that there were tulips hanging out of George's hole where his ear was missing. The tulips were a beautiful purple, her favorite color. They weren't open at all yet, and they hung out of the hole sloppily, looking as though they were about to fall. George's hands were behind his back, obviously hiding something. She laughed out loud at the sight of his creative way of carrying things, and he sat down next to her right before the tulips fell from the side of his head.

Angelina reached over him to pick up the flowers, but George stopped her. "Wait," he said, revealing the square-shaped package in his hand, "and open this first."

Angelina obeyed, carefully unwrapping her present. It was a familiar picture frame, made of eco-friendly bamboo. She remembered this because she had bought the frame herself. "Wha-" she started to say before turning it over to look at the picture she knew would be there.

There was no picture in the frame.

"Surprise!" yelled George enthusiastically, jumping up excitedly and waving his hands.

Angelina was still staring at the frame. The smile fell off of George's face, and he sat back down next to her, "Is something wrong? Don't you like it?"

"No," said Angelina earnestly, "I love it. It's just- where's the picture of you, me, and Fred?"

"I took it out and put it in a different frame," replied George matter-of-factly.

"Why?"

"To make room for this."

George held out the flowers, and they opened right on cue, revealing a camera and a velvet box, opened, with a stunning ring inside it. Angelina gasped, and the camera snapped a picture. George slid off of the sofa and landed on one knee, still holding the flowers, "Angelina Johnson, will you marry me?"

Tears leaking out of her eyes, Angelina nodded, and George took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. She threw her arms around him and cried more tears of happiness. When she pulled away, she saw that George's eyes were glistening as well.

"Merry Christmas."