“Fred?” she asked. “What if... what if we weren’t meant to be together...”
“But we were.” He replied calmly.
“Yes... but if things had happened differently. If we hadn’t gone to Hogwarts... or if you hadn’t played quidditch. Would we have even met?”
“Why does it matter? We’re here, and we love each other.”
“I know but... just, what if...” she trailed off. They were laying side by side outside the burrow, hand in hand in the tall golden grass. Staring up at the clear blue sky. It was times like these, when the world was reduced to an open sky and empty field, with just Fred by her side that she allowed such frivolous thoughts to enter her head.
“What if you were born in a different country than me?” he asked. “I’d come and find you, somehow we’d find each other. Angelina we were meant for each other.”
She sighed, “That’s sweet... but I don't know...”
“What if we you were a deatheater? I’d charm you into switching sides.” He grinned at her, “I’ve been told I’m charming.”
Angelina smiled slightly. “And if I were a Muggle queen?”
“You forgot the bit where I give up magic to come and be your king.”
“And what if,” she said, grinning this time and standing up in the waist high grass. “I were a secret agent ” she broke off and ran away into the tall grass before ducking out of sight. “unable to make contact with any of my friends or family.”
She watched him stand up too, staring around to try and find her. She crawled towards him, careful not to make a sound. When she was behind him she stood up, placing her hands over his eyes.
“Simple,” he said, catching her hands in his and turning around to face her. “I’d become a spy with you and together we’d save the world.” He stated grandly, raising his eyes and fist skyward.
“And if we were opposing pirates,” he lowered his arm and stepped away from her. He had grabbed his wand from his pocket and held it out towards her like a sword. She drew her own wand and leveled it to his. “Then I’d commandeer your ship and we’d fall in love.”
“Who says you’d commandeer my ship? You seem to think an awful lot of yourself brave Captain. For it is I who would commandeer your ship.”
“Is that so?” his eyes danced with mirth. He gave a quick jab with his wand, expecting to giver her a slight poke in the side just to prove his point. Instead she parried his thrust and rested the tip of her wand over his heart.
“I guess it is.” He laughed. She smiled and removed her wand. He pulled her close to him and kissed her gently, then pulled away to look at her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever met, with dark eyes that threatened to hold his gaze forever. “I love you,” he whispered.”Nothing will ever change that.”
Two years later she stood in the great hall, her lip beaded with blood and a bruise blossoming over her cheek, her robes were torn and bloodied. Around her students, teachers, parents, and shopkeepers alike, were all morning the loss of her friends. She looked around at all the bodies, scanning for faces she knew. She saw faces she knew in life but somehow they didn’t register in death. Faces that she knew she had seen before but couldn’t relate to names. Nothing around her made sense. People she knew she should recognize were dead. Yet she didn't know who they were... She felt so numb... She needed to find Fred, he would take this blank numbness from her. Open her eyes again and fit all the broken pieces back together.
She began to push past people, shoving past unrecognizable figures. She screamed his name over and over. Trying to find him. A glimmer of ginger hair ahead of her made her run forward. Ahead were people she recognized. Ahead were the Weasley’s. She could see George and Mrs. Weasley, she even saw Percy. She ran faster, pushing past more and more people. A smile spreading across her bleeding lips, causing the cut to reopen. She didn’t care, she would see Fred and everything would make sense again. With him by her side anything was possible. Together they could fight this war, they could win it. Just as they had won all there imaginary battles at the Burrow.
“Fred!” she was on the verge of laughter, everything would be alright. She ran full tilt into George, gripping his shoulders and turning him towards her she panted “Where is he? Where’s Fred?”
George stared at her, his eyes somehow empty. He didn’t answer, didn’t make a sound. His expression was so... broken. It scared her, the smile vanished from her lips. “George? Where is he? Where’s Fred?”
Again he made no sound, just turned his head and looked away from her, towards the floor. She followed his gaze. On the stone floor was a body, a body with fiery red hair. The world that had only just began to make sense shattered into a million unintelligible sights and sounds. “Who?” her lips mouthed the words but no sound came out and no one answered. Deep in her bones she knew who lay before her, finally, sluggishly, the name rose to her lips. “Fred.” She whispered. The tears streamed forth, and a ripping scream pierced her ears, it was only when the screaming stopped that she realized the scream had been her own.
She stood by the delicately carved tombstone. A bunch of flowers clutched in her hands, she knelt down before the white stone and her fingertips trace Fred’s name. She lay the pale yellow flowers against the stone. “I love you,” she whispered. “I will always love you, nothing will ever change that.” She closed her eyes, the gentle pressure of a hand on her shoulder caused her to open her eyes and look over at George kneeling beside her.
“You were right you know,” he said, addressing the white stone. “You always were the better looking one.”
She smiled gently at him. They had been coming to Fred’s grave every Sunday for the past ten years. And every Sunday she told him she loved him. George too would give his love, though in the kinds of ways that weren’t obvious. He would reference old jokes between himself and his brother, or let Fred win the sibling rivalries he no longer fought.
George and Angelina had fallen in love because they were both in the same lost and empty state after Fred’s death. In that bleak empty surrounding somehow they had found each other, and held on. Held on until the world had begun to clarify and things regained some semblance of normality. They fell in love because they both knew what it felt like to loose the most important person in their lives. They were each others healers, and over time their wounds began to mend, leaving deep scars but never the less healing.
For them love was what shattered their world, but it was also what put it back together. Because they too, were meant for each other.
A/n: To clarify the first section takes place during the summer after book six, scene two is dduring the final battle and scene three is pre-epilogue but still post hogwarts.