George was lying on his back on a couch in the Burrow's living room. He was enjoying himself remarkably more than the last time he had been laying on this couch, newly earless and bleeding. This time he was merely stuffed nearly to splitting with his mother's cooking. Other members of his family were sprawled around the room in a similar fashion. Charlie was laying over the back of the couch George was on, Bill and Fleur were snuggled in a chair near there, Fleur stroking her belly, which she had revealed only an hour ago was full with child, not birthday cake; Ginny and Harry shared the other couch with Ron and Hermione; Percy and his father and mother were chatting animatedly on the ground near the coffee table. And Angelina was sitting near George's head, holding his hand and smiling at him.

George was perfectly aware that the rest of his large family was stealing glances at the two of them and smirking knowingly. He didn't care. Apparently, neither did Angelina. She had taken all of their teasing in good stride, even teasing back on occasion (George's favorite moment at dinner was when she told Percy not to talk when he had yet to ask out the witch in his office who clearly fancied him). She was full too, though not nearly as much as he was. She was chatting in low tones with the rest of the room, and the portrait of Fred, now hanging above the mantel and talking animatedly. Molly had been beyond thrilled when Angelina handed them the gift, and the rest of the family went through various stages of stunned, excited and then extremely thankful before they got into a mild argument as to where to put him. They had decided the kitchen was the heart of the house, and Fred should therefore be placed there. However, for now he was leaned on the mantel place in the living room. No one objected; they couldn't quite bare to part with him and the kitchen was an uncomfortable place to sit.

Angelina was laughing at something Ginny said now, her face split into a bright smile, revealing rows of straight white teeth.

"So he just asked you out like that?" Ginny asked incredulously after Angelina related the tale of a few hours ago to her. Harry laughed along with Ron.

"That takes cheek," Ron complimented.

"Well, we know he has plenty of that," Percy interjected. Normally it would have been pompous, but he was giving George an almost admiring smile. George returned it.

"I for one, think it's about time," Molly said, beaming. "Sorry Fred, dear. But I always thought that she and George made the better match."

"No problem, mum," Fred's portrait grinned cheekily. "I thought so too. George was just too rubbish with women to ask her out then," George objected.

"I wasn't rubbish with all women," he protested, "Just the important ones," he winked up at Angelina, who blushed slightly. The talk turned to Hermione and Ron's impending wedding and Fleur's pregnancy. George half listened, contently digesting layers of cake and ice cream.

"Want to take a walk,' he whispered to Angelina when Ron slipped up and said something that raised Molly's suspicions.

"What do you mean you left your clothes at Hermione's place? Why were your clothes there?" Ron flushed scarlet as Hermione hastily fabricated an excuse. Molly appeared to be unappeased and so Arthur and Harry stepped in to smooth over the situation. George didn't fancy being around for the impending blowout. Angelina tore her eyes from the fight and looked down at him.

"Love to," she said. The two peeled themselves off the couch and snuck silently out of the room and into the Burrow's garden. The moon shone brightly on the horizon and gnomes peeked out at them curiously. George ignored them as he walked hand in hand past the low garden wall and into the surrounding orchard.

"Sorry about all that," he apologized, "My family is a bit mental."

Angelina scoffed. "Please. I love your family. And just wait until you meet mine. We're equally as loud, and there are less of us." she laughed and George joined in. "Besides, I'm having fun," she squeezed his hand warmly. He smiled at her.

"You know," he said when they were nestled among the trees. "I believe that I owe you a dance."

"Indeed you do, Weasley," Angelina played along sportingly. "And to a Muggle song."

George nodded somberly. "And luckily for me, I happen to know who your favorite Muggle singer is. An American to boot," Angelina smiled unabashed.

"He's a musical genius. I'll get you liking him, just wait." George laughed.

"We'll see. How about that dance first?" he held his arms out in classic ballroom form. Angelina smiled.

"There's no music George." She admonished but took his hands anyway.

"Not yet," George let go of her to reach in his pocket and pull out an ordinary looking quill. He stuck it into the ground like a flag. Then he pulled out his wand and with a wave, a slow, sweet melody filled the orchard. Angelina looked stunned, and then smiled. "May I have this dance, M'lady?" George mock bowed.

"Of course, Good sir," Angelina took his hand again. He swayed her gently to the music, feeling her heart beat against his chest. Her head was resting on his shoulder and the warm smell of vanilla wafted up from her dark hair. "How did you know this is my favorite song?" she asked as the second verse began.

"I did my homework," he dipped her. Angelina laughed, then sang quietly.

"So listen to my heart, lay your body close to mine, let me feel you with my dreams, I will make you feel alright…"

"And baby through the years, gonna love you more each day, So I promise you tonight that you will always be the lady of my life." George chimed in, more seriously than he normally would have sung. Angelina looked up at him.

"I use to dance to this with my mum and dad when I was really little." She said into his neck.

"Your dad mentioned that when I owled him last night." George said lightly.

"What?" she jerked up, nearly banging her head on his chin. George just twirled her.

"Well, I needed a fool-proof way to apologize after my little stunt," Angelina rolled her eyes, "And I figured I'd ask the people who knew you best. Your dad said that you loved Michael Jackson, especially this song. So, I decided every couple needs a song right?" Angelina raised an eyebrow. George continued, unabashedly, "Want this to be ours?" For a moment, only the sounds of Michael Jackson telling them that he would love his girl until they were old and gray could be heard. Then Angelina smiled.

"I would love for this to be our song," George pulled her closer and kissed her.

"Then our song it is," he agreed.

"Are you going to love me until we're old and gray?" she asked teasingly.

"And forever after that," George said seriously. Angelina's mouth dropped open and her eyes got unusually shiny.

"Stop that," she admonished.

"Stop what?" George was confused. Had he said something wrong?

"Stop saying the perfect thing. You're turning me into a sissy, Weasley," a tear trickled down her cheek as she said this, but she was smiling.

"Can't do that, now, can I?" he grinned and wiped the tear away. "But in my defense, you've got me out here slow dancing with you to Muggle music. American Muggle music. So I reserve the right to say corny, lovey-dovey things." Angelina laughed.

"Alright, as long as you know I'm likely to get all sappy when you do them." the music ended, but they still rocked back and forth.

"Deal. I'll try to say them often. It's worth it to see you get all girly," she smacked him in the chest lightly.

"Hey, I can be girly," she protested.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged.

"Yeah. I was pretty girly on New Years Eve. And for my first shot at it, I think I did pretty well." she grinned seductively.

"That was your first time?" she nodded. "Wow. I would have never guessed." George was a little shocked, but it made sense. He smiled. Angelina had chosen him for her first time and now again for a boyfriend. It made him feel pretty damn good.

She shrugged, "I hid it pretty well. But I've been thinking. You owe me another shot. You know, this time without alcohol or running out of the room," George blushed. "So how about," her tone was faux business-like, "every time you get romantic, we give this me being girly thing a shot," she looked up at him, her intent clear. George blushed darker.

"We should go tell my family goodbye," he said hurriedly. Angelina laughed.

"I think we can make this work, George Weasley," she leaned up to kiss him.

"I know we can make this work, Angelina Johnson," he whispered against her lips.

They met in another kiss and George could not help but feel that though this was the best birthday he ever had, many more good ones were to come.

A/N: And that my friends, is the end! I hope you enjoyed it! You guys were great with reviewing and reading! I appreciate it! This story was a blast to write. Oh, and I do not own the Michael Jackson song "Lady of My Life," but I do love it and suggest everyone listen to it.