XV

"Well, don't you look sad?" George slipped to Cassiopeia's side on the couch.

They were at her aunt's house. Before going back to France and promising to be back as soon as possible, Fleur had left the new bride with a huge collage book about weddings, and she was trying her hardest to show how happy she was with everything that was happening, but there was a side of her that couldn't be so glad.

"I'm happy," the blond girl said slowly, turning to look at him. "I'm just… not 100% happy."

Her fiancé took her hand in his.

"Is it because of your family?"

She nodded slowly, and George offered her a small and sad smile.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be," she squeezed his hand. "It's not your fault."

He shook his head.

"Still," George insisted. "I want to see you 100% happy, not just… 99% happy."

Cas didn't answer and leaned into his embrace when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I was thinking about when we could do it."

He turned to her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, looking rather confused.

"Please explain," he requested.

"The wedding?" the girl spoke slowly, frowning.

Comprehension filled his expression, and Cassiopeia tilted her head in confusion.

"What did you think I was talking about?"

He stared into her eyes for a moment, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before shrugging.

"Nothing," he deflected. "And I thought we could get married on Christmas."

She felt her confusion being replaced by surprise.

"This Christmas?"

Her fiancé nodded, giving her a large smile.

"No time like right now, right? I'm gonna get the flat sorted out with Fred and we could do it out there in the garden, I'm sure your aunt would like it, and… Well…" he stopped himself and blushed. "You know."

"What?"

"It'll be the anniversary of when it all started with us," he reminded her. "Don't you remember? You looked gorgeous in the ball."

She offered him a smile. How could Cassiopeia ever forget? She didn't remember the name of the Durmstrang boy who took her as a date to the ball and his face was very foggy, but she would never forget how George fiercely protected her from him.

"I do," she whispered. "Christmas it is."

George's smile grew bigger, and he kissed her lips, completely excited, hugging her middle like he was trying to fuse their bodies in one for a moment before relaxing and pulling her to sit on his lap with each leg on the side of his torso, and held both her hands in his.

"Sometimes," he muttered against her lips before stopping and took the hands he was holding to kiss each gently. "Sometimes I'm afraid that I'll wake up one day and this has all been a dream."

She squeezed his palms gently and leant up just slightly to kiss his forehead.

"Why is that?" she questioned in a whisper.

"The store is going very well," he reminded her. "It's like the first months didn't even exist, we are thriving, we got employees and people buying things from all over the continent."

George's face was serious in a way not many people would see it, and Cas could see the anxiety pouring from his words.

"I have you in my life, and we're happy," he continued, freeing one of his hands and pushing a long lock of hair out of her face very softly. "And it just looks like a dream, sometimes. Like it's just my mind coming up with it, that I'm not really that happy, that I'm still in Hogwarts crushing on this hot girl from another house who won't even glance at me."

She chuckled, pecking his lips and moving her fingers to caress his face, feeling the faint notion of a beard on his jaw, but knowing it would rarely become more than that.

"It's not a dream," she affirmed, kissing his lips once again. "Not a dream."

George's grip moved down to her waist again as the kiss deepened, and she took a breath when one of his hands slipped up her shirt, finding a place for itself over her warm skin.

"It's not?" he whispered In between their kiss, his voice deep and slightly rough.

"No," she breathed out.

His hands took different paths, one down her leg and the other up her back, and Cassiopeia's skin grew hot with every inch he touched, wanting to feel him as close as possible, not missing the very clear sign that he was craving the same thing straight up pressed against her.

Her hands moved to his hair without her thinking, scratching his scalp, and she closed her eyes when his touch started moving up the front of her shirt, waiting to feel where it'd end.

What they forgot, however, was that they weren't exactly alone in the house.

The clearing of a throat made them jump in absolute surprise, and Cassiopeia's whole face started burning in shame when she saw no one other than her uncle standing there.

"Uncle Ted," the girl said in a hurry, trying to mask her embarrassment as she moved away from her fiancé's grip. "Hello."

The man just smiled.

"Hello," he greeted the two. "I see you two are saying goodbye."

Cas turned her head to the side, exchanging a look with George, who just nodded while she tried to recompose herself.

"Yes," she affirmed, turning to her uncle again. "We are."

"You don't have to drag yourselves," he noted. "You'll see one another again tomorrow and George is part of this family, he can show himself the door."

In response to that, her boyfriend stood right up, moving his suit – good Merlin, he loved wearing his suits now – so it could cover his… embarrassment?

"You're absolutely correct, sir," he said in a clearly ashamed voice. "I'll… I'll be going now."

Cassiopeia closed her eyes for a moment, wanting to hide, before turning to where he was already leaving.

"Goodbye."

"Bye-bye."