The summer of 1998

*Angelina's POV*

I sat amongst the crowd, still unable to quite comprehend what had happened.

I was at Fred's funeral.

Fred had died.

He was gone.

I looked up at his picture, and almost laughed at how extremely inappropriate it was given the situation.

It was of Fred, of course, making silly faces at the camera. It was taken in the middle of the twins shop, on opening day I think, so everything was bright and silly. His parents claimed it was the only picture they had of him without George. That was highly plausible I suppose, but I think his family secretly wanted that to be the picture used today. It's what he would have wanted.

Next to the picture was his coffin. It looked so small. It was difficult to believe Fred could fit in there, but I figured his big personality made him seem about ten times larger than he ever really was. It was a closed casket, which was fine by me. I would much rather remember a silly, smiling, happy Fred than whatever he looked like now. In that little box.

I was overcome by a wave of guilt for what wasn't the first time that day.

It had been a great source of anxiety in my Hogwarts years. Having a crush on two boys at once was bad enough, but brothers? Twins? It was sick. Disgusting. I had told myself this over and over again.

But that was not what ashamed me that day. The source of my new guilt was that nagging feeling, the knowledge that a small part of me had always liked George just that little bit more.

I felt like I had betrayed Fred on every level. He had been the one I had actually dated after all, for whatever brief time it may have been.

But I couldn't help the way I felt.

Fred had always been the leader, in a way. He was the slightest bit louder, brasher, more confident. Meaner, at times. It was a small distinction, but you noticed it when you were close like we were.

I think that's what drew me to George. That fact that he let Fred take charge. That slight sense of inferiority. He wasn't quite as good with girls, I think that's where it showed the most. George always got a bit jumbled up, while Fred had no trouble asking me to the Yule ball…

I had been so busy thinking about George that I hadn't even noticed him walk up to the stand.

There were large purple bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were unusually hollow. I wondered if he had slept at all since Fred had died. Or eaten, for that matter. God, he looked so lost.

*George's POV*

I found myself looking out at all the people who Fred had ever cared for. Everyone I cared for.

Because everyone Fred knew I knew too. We were a match set. And I knew that one of the first things everyone here thought when they had heard about Fred was 'poor George'.

Because now I was broken. I was incomplete. I would never be whole again.

I didn't have a speech planned.

I wanted to of course. I wanted to honour him, but I lost track of time. It had felt like both two minutes and two million years since it had happened.

I looked out to my family. They were broken too.

They had tried to help me. Percy kept trying to apologise. Mum wanted me to talk about it. Some of the others tried to cheer me up. Eventually I just told all of them to go away.

I locked myself in my room to feel sorry for myself.

Mum had been sobbing for days, and now it had been toned down to a gentle hiccup. Her cheeks were still stained with tears. Dad was comforting her, but he cried too.

Ron sat with Hermione held close to him, her face buried in his chest. He had a pained look on his face. It was as if he thought that if he let her go, he'd lose her too. As if he'd lose everything.

From his side, Harry gave Ron a pat on the shoulder. He was concerned for his best friend, but he mourned like the rest of us. He was family too.

Tightly holding Harrys other hand was Ginny. She was biting down on her lip with all the might, but tears still welled up in her eyes. Ginny hated crying in public.

Percy sat clutching his stomach, as if he was going to be sick. He was taking it hard. He felt guilty. Not only because he had been the one there when it happened, but because he hadn't been there for the last few years of Fred's life.

It wasn't Percy fault though. We all knew that.

If anything it was mine.

I shouldn't have let us get split up. We worked so much better as a team.

Bill sat with his arm around Fleur, Charlie on his other side. It was odd to see my older brothers cry, but they did.

They all cried.

Except for me.

My grief had gone so far beyond tears.

Finally, I thought of something to say.

"He was the eldest twin, did you know that?" I announced. "By three minutes. He never let me forget it, but he never told other people. He wanted us to be equal." I paused for a moment, still unsure of where I was going, and then continued. "But we weren't. He was so, so much better.

"The shop, all of our best pranks… those were all his idea. He was smarter, funnier, and braver than I ever was. But it didn't matter because we were two halves of a whole.

"And now the best part of me is gone. He went and got himself killed and now I'm all alone!" I felt and sob build up in my throat, and the crowd stared at me in shock.

What was I doing?

I was being selfish and stupid when I should have been honouring my brother.

I had to get out of there before I said something else I'd regret.

And so I ran.

*Angelina's POV*

Another teary eyed Weasley got up and took his place, but my vision was blurred and I couldn't tell which one.

I felt myself go after George, despite knowing he wanted to be alone.

It was almost as if my legs were moving against their own will.

There was a grave yard made just outside of Hogwarts, specifically for those who died in the battle.

That's where I found him, sitting before the hole that would soon be his twin brother's final resting place.

"He wasn't better than you." I told him firmly. He jumped, not having heard me walk up, and turned to me for a second. He looked away quickly, but not before I saw the tears on his freckled cheeks.

He didn't respond.

I looked around at all the graves. Professor Lupin, his wife, little Colin Creevy.

There had been separate funerals for everyone. Nobody wanted to group them all together.

I'd been to many of them in these last few weeks, but none were as hard as this.

I couldn't imagine how George felt.

I sat down next to him. "You were every bit as good as he was. You had just a many good ideas, and you stopped a whole lot of his stupid ones as well. He wouldn't want you saying those things." I didn't tell him this in a comforting tone. They were facts, and he needed to hear them.

He laughed in a quiet, bitter way. Not at all like the way he used to laugh with Fred.

"I can't believe it's you of all people telling me that." He whispered harshly.

"Why's that?" I asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Because you're the one that chose him." He turned around to look me in the eyes, a hurt expression on his face. "You knew I like you too, didn't you? But you went with him instead."

I looked at him in stunned silence. All the things that had torn me apart, the things that I had tried to ignore and avoid, had just been confirmed and thrown back in my face.

"I am so sorry, George…"

"No, I'm sorry!" George said quickly. "That wasn't fair of me to say. I don't know what got over me. You didn't know. You had every right to have chosen him. I..."

I placed a hand a hand on his shoulder, silencing his erratic apologising. "No George, I'm sorry because I did know. I liked you too George. I liked you both, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I couldn't choose and he asked me first… I am so sorry."

"It's fine Angelina. It's all in the past now." He smiled slightly. Not out of happiness, but to assure me of his sincerity.

I suddenly realised my hand still grasped his shoulder. Embarrassed, I started to pull away.

He stopped me, placing his hand over mine.

My breath caught.

I leaned in to him, again feeling as though I wasn't in control.

His hand ran lightly across my hair.

I closed my eyes.

Suddenly his hand left mine. My eyes shot open to see him standing, his back to me once again. He gripped his head as if to steady it.

"You're his ex-girlfriend." It wasn't directed at me as much as it seemed a reminder to himself. He turned back to me, his teary eyes pained and confused. "I-I can't do this…"

And with that, he was gone.

Okay, so this is just a little Georgelina fic I came up with.

It's will be about five chapters long, alternating between flashbacks and the 'current' story line.

Anything that isn't mine is property of JK Rowling, obviously.