10For Kaylee (Zellarest.) I hope you like it!
At Fred's funeral, they gravitate towards each other, two people with the same Fred-shaped hole in their hearts.
She approaches him afterwards, red-eyed and just as eager to escape this sombre, awful setting as he is. "George."
"Angelina," he croaks, and it hurts her to look at him, to see one face and imagine another, to see one pair of hands and imagine an identical pair wrapped around her waist, dancing like life would never end.
"I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything." So she doesn't. They walk away from everyone else, and after a while, she tentatively reaches for his hand, and he gives hers a grateful squeeze in return.
"Let's grab a drink," he says abruptly, looking to her for confirmation.
"Sure. The Three Broomsticks?" He nods, and with a twist and a pop, they've reappeared in Hogsmeade. Angelina can't help but recall happier times spent in the village, and she wonders if she'll ever move past this stage, if she'll ever be able to go a day, or even an hour, without feeling sad that Fred is dead, instead of happy that he had the chance to live.
George slips his hand out of hers, and she is jolted from her reverie. "Two Firewhiskeys, please."
They take two stools at the bar and wait, each lost in a maze of what-if's and could-have-been's and thoughts they cannot voice.
"Here you are," Rosmerta says, sliding the drinks over, and Angelina raises her glass.
"To Fred." They drink quickly, and Angelina doesn't remember much after that.
.~.
They don't officially announce that they're a couple, if that's even what they are. He casually slings an arm around her shoulder at Lee Jordan's birthday gathering, and that's that. In the minds of everyone they know, they're together, and neither of them minds very much.
.~.
One day she calls him Fred. She doesn't mean to, it just slips out. He's pulling faces at her and she can't contain her laughter. "Stop it, Fred!"
As soon as it's out of her mouth she realises her mistake, and she sobers immediately. George's smile disappears. He's suddenly all too focused on his cereal, and it's as if those precious gleeful moments never happened.
"George," she says softly, placing one hand on his knee "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm so sorry, I -"
He ignores her, and in the awkward silence that ensues, laden with everything they haven't said, Angelina feels Fred's ghost hanging between them, the invisible third wheel in their fledgling romance.
.~.
A few months after the Battle, George re-opens Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, and Angelina is delighted to see a small spark of life re-entering his eyes. Ron helps out in the shop, and they're lucky he does, because there are some days too difficult for George to face.
One such Monday, she returns from grocery shopping to find him slumped over the kitchen table. "You're back," he greets her sourly. "Thought you'd finally come to your senses and left me 'cos I'm not Fred. You did love him first, didn't you? I bet you wish I was him. I bet you're only with me because I remind you of him. I'm just your measly consolation prize."
"You're drunk," she says flatly, and it's not a question. He wouldn't be this honest with her otherwise.
"Really? Did you figure that out all by yourself?" His sarcasm stings and she can feel a lump forming in her throat, tears pooling in her eyes. She doesn't bite, though.
Grabbing the bottle of Firewhiskey from the table, she stalks to the sink and pours the remaining liquid down the drain. "What the Hell do you think you're doing?" He protests angrily.
"I'm helping you, since you don't seem too interested in helping yourself."
It's the pattern of their painful co-existence, it's difficult and exhausting and nothing short of dysfunctional, but somehow they make it work.
.~.
He proposes to her with a fake wand. He leaves it on the table, and she picks it up, ready to berate him for being untidy, and when she looks down there's a ring in her hand.
It takes her a minute to understand; she looks from George to the ring in confusion.
"I was thinking – you want to get married?"
She's surprised, and grinning like an idiot, but she matches his tone of nonchalance. "Why not?"
And just like that, they're engaged.
.~.
It's a warm day in May when they get married, in a relatively quiet ceremony at the Burrow.
"I do," she promises, and as she stares into the eyes of her soon-to-be husband, she doesn't see the empty space beside him, or the things that might have been. She just sees George, and that's enough to make her happy.
"Thank you, Ange," he tells her later. "I don't think I say that enough, and you deserve to hear it more often. You saved me, so many times. I was a mess – bloody hell, I'm still a mess – and for whatever reason, you're still here…"
She props herself up on one arm and smiles down at him. "You don't have to thank me. I chose to marry you for who are, not for who you're not, and if who you are is a mess, then so be it. I'm not exactly picture perfect either. I don't think anybody is, really."
With that, she leans down and kisses him, and for the first time, all she can hear is their two hearts beating, the only presence in the room is the two of them. Though Fred will always be a part of them in different ways, they learn to live as George and Angelina, to forge a life for and of themselves.
It's a rollercoaster, fun and frightening all at once, and even on their worst nights they'll remember to hold on, because no ride would be the same without its highs and lows. Life, after all, is the greatest ride they'll ever know.
Written for:
Hugs and Happiness Challenge – Zellarest
The HP Potions Competition: Grand Pepper-up Potion – write about someone who needs cheering up, or someone who is cheering someone else up
The Legendary Gods and Goddesses Competition – Nepthys (write about someone mourning over something)
The Legendary Creatures Competition – Aka Manto (write about someone haunting someone else)
The Greenhouses Competition – Palm (write about life post a war)