Work Text:
It was the Tuesday after his sister’s and Harry’s wedding, and George was famished. He and Ron were gearing up for the rush that always came right before the start of the new school year, and so they’d had a busy morning restocking their inventory.
Needing to replenish his energy– and prepare for his outing– George popped into his office for a quick cuppa and day-old pastry that was not entirely stale, much to his delight.
“Oy, George! What time are you taking your lunch today? Parvati needs me to pick up her stationary order at– ” Ron cut himself off as he appeared in the doorway. He watched, primarily in amusement, followed shortly by bewilderment, as George tidied his hair in the mirror. He squinted, needing to be sure that he was seeing properly.
Was he using product?
Cautiously, Ron entered the room, dare he disturb his brother’s activity. He waited a moment before speaking, noting George’s cheerful humming.
“Say George,” he began lightly. “W- what are you doing?”
George paused for a fraction of a moment, acutely aware of his brother’s presence. Then he cast a sidelong glance and a devilish grin in his direction. Ron furrowed his brow. He hadn’t seen that look in years. George, seemingly unperturbed by the intrusion, swiftly returned to his handiwork.
“Ever heard of a comb, Ronald?”
Ron rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, heaving himself into an empty chair. He bit into his sausage roll before he quipped, “But when have you ever put that much effort into your hair?”
When an answer didn’t come and the humming continued, Ron hazarded a guess. “Have a hot date or something?” He chuckled aloud at the ridiculous thought, but when George didn’t join in, he busied himself by taking another bite. His eyes drifted skyward, looking anywhere but at George. Silence– minus the sound of Ron’s chewing– hung between them.
George slipped into a fresh waistcoat, taking his time with the buttons. He was completely unbothered, so it seemed. Then he answered in a rather serendipitous tone. “Why yes, dear brother, I have.”
At this, Ron’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. George had a date? He swallowed, audibly.
“I’ll be taking my lunch at half eleven.” George glanced at his pocket watch. “And, because I’m such a good sibling and business partner, I can pick up your darling wife’s stationery for you, on my way back.” He replaced the pocket watch, ever so coolly, and looked back up. “Does that work for you?”
Ron, placated by the offer, and not knowing what else to say, simply nodded. He hadn’t a clue where this newfound sense of style and confidence had come from, but he was admittedly impressed. It reminded him of George’s younger years, when he was full of boldness and determination.
After taking a moment to process the situation, his curiosity– and appetite– quickly returned. “So, who are you meeting for lunch then, Georgey?” He finished off the rest of his roll and took a sip of his tea, setting it down beside him.
The beginnings of a grin tugged at George’s lips. He was enjoying this moment for all that it was worth. His eyes returned to the mirror, checking over his reflection. Nodding his final bit of approval, he drawled, “Luna.”
Ron stood up so quickly that he almost knocked over his teacup. “Lovegood?” he sputtered.
“Do you know any other Lunas?”
“Well… no, but…” He scratched his head, as if in actual consideration. “I didn’t realize you two had… hit it off.” He thought back to Saturday; to the wedding of Harry and Ginny. It had been a marathon, really. Full of family, friends, best man duties, and of course, celebratory cheer. His memories from the day had largely blended together, so he sorted through them, recalling that overlooked moment.
George and Luna on the dance floor, swaying in time to the music.
Ron had assumed that they were dancing as friends, as they had both attended the wedding without dates. But clearly, he had missed a detail or two.
As comprehension finally dawned, George wore a cheeky grin.
“Well, Ronald,” he winked. He began to collect his things. “Your brother’s still got it.”