Perfect Match(A George Weasley Love Story)

Date Night

"Britta Anne," George's voice sang as he walked into the room, sitting on the edge of my bed. I was curled up, extremely comfortably, with my forehead an inch from being pressed against the wall. 

"Be quiet, I'm sleeping," I murmured, pulling the blankets up even more and snuggling my face into the pillow, feeling the bed sink as he moved to sit right on the other side of my head. 

"You're no fun," he whined, leaning over me and pressing a kiss to my cheek. I smiled and turned so I was facing him, resting my head in his lap and wrapping my arms around his waist. 

"I'm fun, and you know it," I joked, resting my hand against his thigh.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go on a little date?" He asked, running his fingers through my hair.

"With you?" I asked jokingly.

"Yes with me, dork," he answered, laughing slightly. "How does brunch sound?"

"You know how much I love eating breakfast foods at a moderately late, but still early, time," I answered, sitting up in bed and rubbing my eyes. 

"You're such a dork," George laughed. "Well, get ready. We'll leave in about an hour alright? I already told everyone, so they know that we'll be leaving soon. I love you."

"I love you," I murmured sleepily, sitting up and leaning my head on his shoulder. I leaned my head up and pressed a kiss to his lips before I stood up and walked over to my trunk. George reclined on my bed as I pulled out a pair of medium washed, ripped jeans, a white fitted long sleeve v-neck top, some chestnut colored ankle boots, and plaid scarf from my trunk. I slipped the small, pearl ring that was my paternal grandmother's  on my finger as well and slipped out of my pajama top. "One perverted comment and I'm not going," I teased.

"You're beautiful," he said simply as I pulled on my top and tugged off my shorts. "That doesn't count as a perverted joke, my love."

"No it doesn't, that was very sweet," I said as I tugged up my jeans and slid on my ankle boots, which had about an inch of heel. I slid my scarf on and moved over to the bathroom door that was at the foot of Hermione's bed, opening the door and standing in front of the mirror. I straightened out my clothes and snapped my fingers, instantly straightening my hair before I brushed my teeth, looking at George, who was smiling at me, through the mirror. "What?"

"Nothing," he answered, the same goofy grin still on his face. "You're just pretty."

"You're sweet," I said, quickly swiping on some powder, eyeliner, and mascara, finishing off the look with some chapstick before I cleaned up the counter and walked back over to George. "Ready, handsome?"

"Of course," he answered, holding out his arm to me. I linked my arm in his and we apparated on the spot, appearing in a small, quaint little village with cobblestone streets and little cottages on the side, almost like a Dutch village with balconies that had rails laced with flowers and sweet little sidewalk cafes. 

"Wow," I breathed out, walking down the little street, taking in the sights of the small village. 

"Wait for me, silly," George called out, walking faster to keep up with me. 

"George, this is lovely," I said, a smile on my face. 

"You're adorable when you have this level of amazement," he teased, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. 

"It's beautiful," I answered, looking around at the people, who all seemed to love it just as much, and the smiling children, running around laughing. Each side of the street was lined with cafes and cottages pressed up against each other, eat painted a pastel green or yellow or blue, even a light pink.