"You'll be at Quidditch practice today, right?" Angelina pestered Fred during breakfast.

"No, Angie," he replied sweetly, faking a cough, "I'm sick."

"You are a lying git. Don't be late, okay?" she called as she got up from her bench.

"I wouldn't bet on it, Angie. I'm sort of busy..." he said, snickering. She whacked the back of his head with her Transfiguration book.

"Don't be late," she warned, her eyes glinting as she walked off.

"She's so feisty, isn't she Fred?" George asked, laughing at his brother.

"Yeah." Fred stared at the empty seat across from him.

"Hullo...earth to Fred," George waved his hand in front of Fred's face. He didn't notice.

"FRED LOVES ANGIE!" he yelled into Fred's ear.

"Shut up!" he hissed, putting George in a headlock.

"Okay, okay! Bloody hell, I was just joking!" George said sheepishly as Fred let him go. But what George had said, jokingly or not, made Fred think. Did he really like Angie?

That afternoon in Potions, Angelina was deeply immersed in her work and Fred was content just to stare at her. Occasionally he would glance at George and then to Harry and Ron, who were whispering feverishly about getting dates for the Yule Ball. He and George were laughing about how pathetic it was, but really, Fred was the one who felt pathetic. Everyone joked about him and Angelina, although they knew it wasn't true. But she was feisty, smart, and athletic, even though she could be a bit bossy sometimes, and Fred loved her for it. He wanted to ask her to the Yule Ball, but couldn't find the right opportunity. But he suddenly thought of something. And he could show Ron up in the process. He quickly scribbled Ron a note.

"Get a move on or all the good ones will be gone," Ron read.

"Who're you going with then?" he asked contemptuously. Fred grinned.

Angelina felt a paper hit her shoulder and instantly froze. She turned slowly to the culprit, glaring.

"Oi, Angelina!" She didn't turn any faster.

"What?" she hissed.

"Do you...want to go the ball...with me?" Fred asked. Actually, he gestured, but she got the picture.

"To the ball? Yeah, alright," she said, smiling and turning to her friends excitedly. She could finally buy a dress. She didn't have one. When would she have needed it? But now she was going to the Ball. With Fred. She liked him. He was extremely funny and clever, although he could be a bit obnoxious. She glanced back quickly as Fred turned to Ron and winked. George was grinning at his twin's audacity, but Ron just groaned with irritation.

Angelina walked down the staircase to meet Fred. She had bought a long red dress with a halter top style neck and a low cut back. Fred was standing at the bottom with his antique dress robes. He hated these robes. Although, compared with the atrocity Ron had been stuck with, he didn't mind as much.

Angelina saw Fred and choked. He looked ridiculous. But then again, he had a flair for the ridiculous. And there was George in matching robes, leaning against the side of the staircase with a girl from Ravenclaw. She saw him nudge Fred as if to say "hurry up" but she was just stepping off of the last step. Fred took her arm and led her into the Great Hall. She had been expecting an old fashioned dance with waltzes and other ballroom dances. And it did start out that way. But it soon turned into a rave. Dumbledore had invited the Weird Sisters to perform!

She danced all night and curled up in a chair in the common room in Fred's lap when it was over. She was exhausted, but she had had the most fun she could remember since the last Quidditch practice. And tonight she hadn't ordered anyone around or had to command attention. She soon went to bed. Fred kissed her by the stairs to her dormitory. She smiled.

Angelina woke up and smiled, remembering the dream. That smile quickly changed to a frown as soon as she remembered the shape the school was in. Fred and George had left, Umbridge was becoming ruthless, and all she had to look forward to were Quidditch practices (which weren't so fun anymore now that the twins and Harry weren't there) and Hogsmeade weekends. And Umbridge was contemplating getting rid of those as well! And there hadn't been a DA meeting in two months. She turned over and sighed. She wasn't getting back to sleep now. At least there was only one month of school left. She could take her N.E.W.T.s and leave. She didn't know why she even bothered. Oliver Wood had sent an official letter from Puddlemere United asking for an "interview" with Angelina Johnson. She had grinned all day after reading that letter. What better way to leave her education then on the back of a broomstick? For the rest of her life! She knew Oliver would be able to get her in. She had forgotten to ask Katie and Alicia if they had gotten a letter, but as she thought about it, she decided not to. If they hadn't gotten one, they might take it the wrong way and stop talking to her because she was going professional. She hated to think her friends were like that, but it was better to be discrete. Angelina turned onto her back and sighed again.

Angie was sitting in the Three Broomsticks, contemplating how she was going to get to Diagon Alley without being seen. She had to see how the twins were doing in their new shop. What did they call it again? Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She bet it was better than Zonko's, but the only way to find out was to get there, something she had no way of doing. Especially now that Umbridge was watching their every move, so she could spot any minor misconduct and ban Hogsmeade visits. Suddenly Harry walked in with Hermione and Ron. Angelina saw them and had a brainstorm.

"Harry! Hey, Harry!" she ran up to him as they were ordering butterbeers.

"No, Angelina, I don't know when the next DA meeting is. I'll let you know as soon as I can, okay?"

"No, it's not that. I've noticed your disappearances every now and then, and I want to know how you do it. I need to go somewhere without being seen. Is it a potion or something?" she looked at Hermione inquisitively.

"No," he said, leaning toward her and whispering, "It's an invisibility cloak."

"Bloody hell, Harry, that's illegal!"

"It was my dad's."

"Well, do you have it with you?"

"Yeah."

"Well...can I borrow it?"

"No."

"Harry, I need to go see Fred. I want to see the shop, and I don't have much time. You think I'll get caught and have your invisibility cloak taken away? I'm not that reckless!"

She saw Ron kick Harry and give him a look. Reluctantly, Harry pulled it out of his bag and handed it to her.

"Thanks! I'll give it to Hermione in the common room tonight and she can give it back to you if we don't see each other by the time we get back to school. Okay?" Harry looked down at his butterbeer, but Hermione nodded.

"Go, Angie, I hear Umbridge!" she urged. Angelina tossed the cloak around her and hurried outside, weaving around Umbridge carefully and stepping in some mud. Careful not to track it in the streets, Angie hopped over to an alley and scraped it off with a stick onto the wall. She then ran to the fence near the Shrieking Shack where no one could see her Apparate. This wasn't the only time she was glad she was of age. She apparated in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron and ran out the back door just as Tom was opening it to throw an old piece of meat in the trash. She took off the cloak when no one was watching and tapped the brick wall to let her through. She walked through the archway and stuffed the cloak into the pocket of her robes. A huge sign over one of the stores at the end of the alley, near Gringotts, read 'New Opening,' and she ran to it, hoping no one would wonder why a student was in Diagon Alley and not at school. A bell rang as she opened the door and a sleepy Fred ran downstairs.

"Go right ahead and look around, although some of our boxes are still packed. But we have anti-theft spells all around the store, so don't you dare think of stealing anything!" he said, not bothering to look at the 'customer.'

"Why would I steal anything when Umbridge would confiscate it anyway?" she said quietly. Fred looked up in shock.

"Angie! What are you doing here? How are you here?"

"I wanted to see you. You left in such a hurry. Harry lent me his invisibility cloak and I apparated. I like what you've done with the place," she said, looking around at all of the unpacked boxes.

"How did you get all of your merchandise here? You left on your brooms!"

"Most of it was hidden in our bedrooms at home. We just went there first, told Mum what we had done, enduring her hysterical yelling, convinced her that what we had done was best, and then told her about the store."

"And?"

"She threw another fit. I swear, she'll die in the middle of one. I told her it was what we were best at and it would be much more profitable than forcing us to try something we'd never get far in. I mean, do you think we could pass as Aurors? And then I told her how much better paying a business profession is than Dad's job, but that just made her cry. She'll get over it. She always does. Puking Pastille?" he offered her. She shook her head.

"You're really smart," she complimented him. He snorted.

"No, you are! Not many Hogwarts students can become renegade businessmen and do well at it. You're brilliant at something when you put your mind to it. Like Quidditch and myself. I forgot to tell you. Wood sent me a letter. I'm going professional! I'll be on his team. I'm so excited!"

"Oh, Angie, that's fantastic!" he said, and hugged her.

"What's all this commotion?" George yelled down the stairs.

"Angelina's here!"

"Oh, hey Angie!" he said brightly.

"George, what's going on?" a younger female voice was heard from above them.

"Fred has a visitor."

"Who's up there?" Angie asked Fred.

"George's fiancee. Remember that girl he went to the Yule Ball with? From Ravenclaw?

He proposed to her years ago, but they really can't do anything until she turns 17."

"How old is she?"

"Fifteen in a few months."

"Fourteen! Why isn't she in school?"

"Dropped out. Like us. She's sick of Umbridge too, wants to spend some time with George. She was going to be a healer, but gave that up. 'How am I going to pass Defense Against the Dark Arts with a hag like that as a teacher? Then I won't get my O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. for D.A.D.A., and then I won't be a healer anyway, so what's the point?' were her exact words."

"George's fiancee? At fourteen? An O.W.L. at fourteen?"

"She started early. And neither her nor George care about age."

"Oh. Well, it's great to see you, but I'd better get back to school, before Umbridge sends a search party for me so she can hang me by my ankles in the dungeons. If Filch gets his way."

"Come back, okay? Come back and see me." Fred kissed her lightly before heading back upstairs.

"Don't worry, I will!" Angie left the shop and put the cloak back on, apparating outside Hogwarts. She didn't know when she'd get the chance to see Fred again, but hopefully, it was sooner rather than later.

Two years later

Angie ran around the corner of a corridor, trying to evade the Deatheater pursuing her. She had no idea what was going on. The last Quidditch game of the season had ended, and she was resting in her tent when an owl had flown in with a letter from Fred. It was begging her to meet him at the Burrow. She hadn't seen him for eight months now, and she had only been to the shop three times. The second had been before school started, and she went with the other students to Diagon Alley, even though she was no longer a student herself. The third had been on a whim on her birthday, where they surprised her with a cake and a new puffskein, free of charge. She had named it Fred, in honor of her boyfriend. After receiving the owl, Angelina had arrived at the Burrow to find not one Weasley. So she came back to Hogwarts. Deatheaters were surrounding the school, so she cast a Disillusionment charm on herself so she could run through undetected. She found George, who was shouting about Deatheaters and Voldemort attacking the school and for her to leave, now. She shook her head, not believing it. Was Harry okay? Did He have Harry? George didn't know. Where was Fred then? George didn't know the answer to that either. What happened to your ear? He had muttered something that she couldn't comprehend. Now she was being chased.

"Levicorpus!" she shouted. The Deatheater's body was lifted and she directed it into a wall, far from the corridor she was on. He smashed against the wall, blood spurting from his nose and mouth, and he fell to the bottom floor below, crashing into moving stairways and people. She continued to run, only to trip over a fallen body. She stubbed her knee, and backed against the wall, sobbing. Only then did she notice who's body lay on the floor, empty of life. A new burst of tears flew out of her when she realized who it was.

She bent over him, her own personal rain hitting his face.

It was Fred.

R.I.P. Fred Weasley.

April 1, 1978 – May/June 1998

(Author note: I know Harry wouldn't tell people about his cloak haphazardly like that, but I had him do so for the sake of the story.)