A/N: Sorry for the long update on this story. I had many brain farts and have rewritten this chapter like 2 or 3 times (which is unusual for me because I usually write a chapter out and post it before I decide to change the whole thing). Also, for those of you who don't know how I got the name Grandma Mazur, it's from the Stephanie Plum books by Janet Evanovich (One for the Money, Two for the Dough, etc.). Grandma Mazur is a cooky old woman, who is always making some joke. Anyways, this chapter is for Miriam (crazy-obsessed-jacksparrow-fan) who told me to get up off my toosh and update this thing quicker. Anyways, enjoy!

George led the way to the store. The street that was Diagon Alley was fairly crowded, mainly with witches who were down for the day. They finally arrived at the store, which had a rather large line queuing up outside. George pushed his way by many Hogwarts students and soon-to-be Hogwarts students, many of them yelling at him for cutting in line. George ignored them.

Once inside, Claire gasped. Fred and George had added onto the store when the money came rolling in and it looked a lot smaller from the outside. A special charm from Remus Lupin made the space larger for their growing inventory. One wall was filled with some of Fred and George's first inventions, Skiving Snackboxes and Fake Wands among them.

After the initial shock of the size of the store, Claire said, "Some business you got here." She picked up a Fainting Fancy and said with a tone of affection, "Ahh…Fainting Fancies. These used to get me out of a lot of History of Magic classes."

"Well, anything you want is on the house," George smiled, taking the box of Fainting Fancies to the counter.

"Oh, I don't think I could," Claire replied, though her eyes didn't really meet his as she picked up a rainbow colored quill. "What are these?" she asked, picking one of the quills up.

"Those are Color Quills. You draw a picture and it will automatically color in what you are drawing. It would actually be perfect for you."

She smiled and said, "Well, then I will take a couple."

As they were about to leave, Claire stopped at a cage near the door. In the cage were various colors of what looked to be colored puffs.

"What are those?" she asked, sticking her finger through the cage cautiously.

"Those are Pygmy Puffs. They are like mini-Puffskeins. We started out with just typical colors like pink and purple, but now we have every color imaginable," George replied, opening the cage from the top. "Which one do you like?"

Clair bit her lip as if making a life changing decision. "I think I'll take that one," she said, pointing to an orange and white Pygmy Puff. George grabbed it and handed it to her, and the little Puff skittered around her hand. "He's so cute! Wait a minute, it is a 'he' right?"

George took the Pygmy Puff and turned it upside down, with a laugh from Claire. "I think it's a girl, as it doesn't have a….well, you know." George said, blushing furiously. "Well, we better go and take this to the front. I need write this down in the book."

Claire nodded and continued to look around the store, stopping every once in a while to pick something up and examine it.

As George was writing down what she picked out, Verity, the first assistant that Fred and George hired, leaned over and whispered, "You must really like her. You never even gave Katie free stuff."

"Yeah, well she isn't like Katie. She's…I don't know…different," he replied with a smile, watching her play Hangman with a smaller child. It was evident that she was letting the child win.

Verity watched his face with a smile plastered on hers. "Well, you better get out of here," she said. "We're about to get the after work crowd, and it's going to be packed. And besides, you're supposed to be on vacation," pushing him slightly towards the door.

"Okay, okay," he said, placing the items in the bag. "You ready to go?" he asked Claire, who has conveniently lost three games in a row to the small girl.

"Yeah, I guess. I thought I was really going to win that one," she said with a wink.

George bade good-bye to the other workers in the store, and stepped out into the now dimming sunlight. The streets had thinned just a bit, but after leaving Diagon Alley, the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron was roaring with people just getting off from work for some late night shopping and a night cap in the wizard pub.

"You ready?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, but I have something to ask you."

"Sure," she replied.

"Would you like to join me and my family for dinner?" he sort of blurted out. That was real smooth, he thought. She'll probably Apparate right now to get rid of me. He sort of closed his eyes, waiting for the dreaded reply. Why would she want to meet his parents after only their first date?

He opened his eyes slightly to find her smiling at him. "I would love to. Do you mind if I stop by my house first to freshen up? I want to look nice for your folks."

"That's not a problem…not a problem at all," he replied with an air of relief.

"Well, see you in a second at my cabin," she said, turning on the spot and Apparating.

A second later, he was standing next to her in front of her cabin. Before George could take a step, a large, yellow creature came bounding out of the door at top speed. George, not knowing what to do, stood rooted to the spot. After a second, the creature jumped on him and knocked him on his back, knocking the air out of him. Then he felt something wet and slimy lick his face. Opening his eyes, he saw a large dog licking his face.

"Samson! No! Bad dog!" Claire shouted, pulling the large dog off of George, who was laughing by now. "Get inside right now! We do not jump on strangers!" The dog stood there wagging at Claire, like he knew she didn't mean it. "Are you okay?" she asked, helping George up.

"Fine. I do feel as though a large dog just ran me over though," he replied, brushing his pants off and smiling.

"That's Samson. He's part golden Labrador and part mastiff. He maybe be big, but he still thinks he's a puppy." They looked down to see Samson rolling on the ground. Then Claire let out a little noise and said, "Oh! Look at your hand, it's bleeding!"

George looked down at his hand where a tiny scrape was seeping blood.

"Oh, it's nothing," he replied, trying to wipe it off on his shirt.

"Come on in, I'll put something on it. And don't wipe it on your shirt, I don't want your mother thinking I attacked you on our first date," she said, steering him inside, with Samson hot on their heels. "I don't have any potions, so we'll just have to use some peroxide."

"Some what?"

"Just follow me."

They walked up the stairs and opened the screen door to the cabin. They stood in a foyer, with two doors leading off the room, and one straight ahead next to a set of stairs.

"Who's there?" came an old voice from the left door.

"It's just me grandma," Claire replied, steering George to the stairs.

"Who's that with you?" her grandmother asked.

"It's George Weasley."

An old lady appeared around the corner, walking with a walker. She had white hair and had a frail stature. She had large glasses, and they seemed to magnify her eyes by two. She rolled her walked over to George, and looked at him from behind the enormous glasses. She looked at George as if sizing him up, leaned in and whispered, "Do you know my granddaughter here is a witch and can do magic?"

Claire stifled a giggle and George replied, "Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, so am I."

"I swear, the world is full of you witches and wizards, aren't they?" the old lady laughed, walking back to the room which she came from.

"That's Grandma Mazur. She's a bit…well…odd," Claire said, steering George again up the stairs. She led him to the first room off the landing and sat him down on the toilet. As Claire searched for the peroxide, George looked around the bathroom. It was a simple white room, with a window that had light pouring in it. He noticed how the light played on Claire's hair, turning it a burnt red color. He stared at her for a moment, before realizing she was talking.

"This might sting a bit, but it will subside in a second," she said, taking the cap off of the brown bottle.

"Trust me, I can handle it," George said, giving her his hand. She started to moisten a cotton ball. "Growing up with Fred meant lots of pain, well, with our joke items that is. I have a high tolerance for…OUCH!" he said, as she dabbed the cotton ball on his hand.

"You have a high tolerance for what?" Claire smirked.

"How can Muggles stand that for cuts? What happens when they get bigger scratches than mine?"

"Well, they get stitches," Claire replied, putting the bottle back in the cabinet.

George thought back to when his father had gotten stitches when he was in his seventh year at Hogwarts. His mother was not pleased over that incident. Sometimes his mother still referred to it as "his momentary lapse in sanity."

"Well," Claire said, "just give me five minutes and I'll be ready. Also, I want to know about that 'momentary lapse' your father had." She smiled at him.

"How did you…" George started. "Oh yeah…an 'A' in Divination. Are you sure it wasn't an 'O'?"

"I'm positive. I should have gotten an "O", but the instructor wasn't too pleased with my prediction."

"And what prediction would that be?" George asked curiously.

Suddenly, Claire's smiling face faltered a bit. She bit her lip before answering, "Well, I saw something that sort of ticked him off."

George stood behind her and asked, "And what would that be?"

She hesitated before answering, "Well, I Saw that his mistress had visited his home and told his wife about their affair. I told him it was going to happen that day, and he said I was lying and that he didn't have a mistress. I even described her to him and he turned white and basically quit the examination right there. Later that night, according to neighbors, he came home to find his clothes in their driveway."

"Even though it happened, he still gave you an A?" George asked, sounding astounded.

"Yeah."

"That's outrageous! Why would he do that?"

"Well, he thought it was because of me that it happened, and so he gave me a barely passing grade. I didn't mind though, because I knew that in my heart I deserved at least an 'E.'" She shook her head slightly and said, this time with a smile, "Anyways, let's not worry about that. I want to try some of your mother's cooking."