"Oi, kid! Get away from that bin! When I say they'll bite your fingers off, I'm not lying!" George barked at the young boy next to a barrel of miniature dangerous beasts: dragons, Blast-ended Screwts, and Aracumentula. He quickly withdrew his hand and nodded, wide eyed. George continued on his way to the back of the tore, ducking into the stock room. He ran a weary hand over his face as he searched for another case of Nosebleed Nougat. Luckily, the shop wasn't as busy as usual, so he leaned against the doorframe for a moment before taking a deep breath and stepping back into the bright colours and flashing lights that was Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes Joke Shop. He had just finished re-stocking the Skiving Snackboxes when Verity, the shop's oldest staff member, rushed up with her blond hair frazzled and a sick looking boy hanging onto her arm.

"Erm, Mr. Weasley… He ate one of the Edible Dark Marks-" She said breathlessly before the boy interrupted her by promptly vomiting all over George's shoes.

Verity winced, "So sorry… I forgot the spell to stop it…"

"S'ok, Verity. It is, after all, just a bit of sick." George gave her what he hoped was a convincing smile as he handed the boy a purple sweet to cease the vomiting, and waved his wand to clean the sick on the floor. The kid muttered an apology and scurried off. Verity nodded and walked away.

George sighed and straightened his magenta robes, scanning the shop for some problem or other, anything to occupy his mind.

"George?" A soft voice said from behind him.

George turned to see a slender woman with long braided hair, high cheekbones, and chocolate skin smiling at him. George couldn't help but return the smile at his old fellow Gryffindor.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Angelina Johnson." He said. Angelina stepped forward and hugged him tightly, much to his surprise. He caught a whiff of oranges and cinnamon as he awkwardly returned the hug with one arm.

"How are you?" She asked quietly after they separated. George instinctively knew from her tone that she was not just making small talk. George was partly touched by her concern, but he mostly just wanted her to drop it. The wound of losing Fred still throbbed every time he looked in the mirror and realized from now on, that was the only place he would see his likeness.

"Better." He replied half truthfully after a moment, "So what brings you here on this fine summery day?" They simultaneously looked out the window at the dreary grey sky and the rain running down the street in small rivers.

"…This slightly less-than fine summery day." George continued.

Angelina chuckled, "My niece's birthday is tomorrow, and I totally forgot."

"Ah," George sighed, "the last minute gift that says 'I obviously had this planned months in advance.'"

Angelina laughed again, "Pretty much."

"Well, dear lady, let us embark on this quest with valour and fervour." George said with a pompous tone, offering her his arm. She grinned and took it, and he led them away.

George spent the next hour and a half showcasing all the most ridiculous products to Angelina, enjoying having the company from an old friend. He had forgotten how easy it was to make her smile. Even when he wasn't attempting to be funny, she still laughed at his jokes.

"I think," Angelina said, turning the box of Animal Crackers over in her hands, "this will do."

"All right, then. You know what I think?"

"What?"

"That I should take my break now so we can go get a drink." George had forgotten the fluttery feeling you get in your chest as you wait for a girl to accept (or reject) a date.

Angelina had looked up at him in surprise, her dark eyes wide.

"I… I'd love to, George." She said softly, smiling again.

"Excellent!" George beamed. He looked over his shoulder to the checkout desk, "Jules, I'm taking a half hour."

The young wizard fresh out of Hogwarts nodded, then went back to his Muggle magazine full of scantily clad girls and racing cars.

"Wait, I must pay first!" Angelina said sternly.

"Nonsense. It's a four Sickle box of biscuits that make you sound like an animal. No one here will miss it." George said as he put his hand on the small of her back to steer her out of the shop. It didn't fail his notice that when he did, his arm went all warm and his fingers tingled. And judging by the fierce blush that was staining Angelina's cheeks, neither had she. And even though she had gone to the Yule Ball with his late twin brother, he had forgotten how much he had liked Angelina Johnson.

A lot. He had liked her a lot.

A/N: Wow, my first Harry Potter fanfic I had the guts to put up...

Anyway, don't hesitate to tell me what sucks about it :P

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter. I do, however, own Tom Felton. Sorry, but it's the truth