Summary: ONE SHOT!!! Fred dies. Angelina comes to terms with her emotions.

She wore the ring he'd given her in their third year at Hogwarts on her pinky finger. It was a silver ring with a sparkling green four-leaf clover in the center of it. He remembered it like yesterday…

She'd gushed and hugged him tightly when he gave it to her on that Christmas night as the five of them sat on the grounds near the lake in the snow. A thick pink woolen cap covered Alicia Spinnet's head; she wore pink mittens and a coat that looked like it could have been filled with Styrofoam instead of cotton. Her best friend, a chocolate brown girl with long braided black hair, sat beside her in a black wool pea coat, a dark red scarf, black mittens, and a cap made from black bear fur. What could the girl say? Her mother had class and liked to flaunt their money. Angelina Johnson pulled her knees up under her chin. Her black jeans were cool against her skin, but she smiled at the red head sitting on her left.

He rolled his eyes mockingly and faked a kiss towards her as she fingered the ring in her palm. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, but only after noticing that Fred was pretending to be interested in whatever it was Lee had given him. How could he pretend she didn't exist on such a great night? They sipped their hot chocolates as they complained about Professor Snape and all the essays he'd assigned over the holidays. She noticed that Fred never took his eyes off the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. He'd given her a box of Bert's all flavor beans. He fell behind everyone else, as he was deep in thought. When he made it to the door, he realized someone was holding it open for him. Angelina smiled at him widely and kissed him on the lips before running down the hall to catch up with her best friend.

The ring was too small for all of her other fingers now. It had moved to her wedding finger during seventh year, but she soon moved it to her pinky once she was married two years later, a year after the war ended with Voldemort's defeat. Her wedding ring was a gold band with a ruby heart sitting in the center of it. She never gushed over the wedding ring, but she did gush over the man she married. After all, she'd married him against her parents' wishes, and they had not even showed up for the wedding. Her brother who had been in the same year with Percy came and gave his support.

He did love her. She was sitting on the black leather couch with her long brown legs folded underneath her as her eyes scanned a thick book in front of her. She was probably preparing dinner or getting ready for the party they were having that weekend. Her dark eyes didn't move from the book as he walked towards her slowly.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was distant. He knew it would be. She was always distant when she was in thought.

"I…uhh. Angie, I have something to tell you." His voice broke at the end of the sentence.

She reached out and turned the page of the book with her left hand. The light from the chandelier bounced off the two rings on her finger, but it was the clover that sparkled brightest. He was surprised it still shined after so long. It had been over twenty years. "What it is then?" She asked, dark eyes still on the book floating in front of her.

He slowly took in the sight of her. Her long brown legs were naked, save some really short red spandex pants she wore with a thin-strapped yellow shirt. The shirt fit snugly at her waist. He exhaled slowly. He'd been crying for two days straight, but it still hadn't been enough. Why had he been the one given the order to tell her? He always was the bearer of bad news. He had to tell Angelina and Alicia that Katie had died in a duel with Pansy Parkinson and Hannah Abbot Hannah being under Draco's imperius curse. He gave the group the bad news about Alicia. Now, here he was about to give Angelina the worse news he could ever think of. He covered his face.

"Oy, Freckles, you okay over there? You seem a bit tense. You know, I'll be Trelawney, but I can feel how agitated you are all the way over here." The book slammed shut. Her dark eyes fell on the man standing in her front room. He had on khaki slacks and a long sleeved red shirt. Red really was a horrible color for him. She smiled at that last thought.

He took a deep breath and looked at her with pools of water on the rims of his eyes. A look of shock passed over her dark face. She had her arms wrapped around him tightly. He hadn't even noticed her long legs making their way towards him. He loved her legs. He pressed his face into her rose scented hair. It was always a comfort on lonely nights and those days where he had to watch his best friends be put into cold graves.

"Come on. Tell me what's the matter, baby," She cooed into his ear.

His grip on her waist tightened. "He's dead," he whispered into her hair. She hadn't heard him. Instead, she was rubbing his shoulder slowly, but hard. Their lips met, and they fell back onto the couch with him lying between her legs. This was wrong. It always felt wrong to him, but he always did it. He wrapped his left hand around her throat and squeezed tightly as he kissed her. "Fred's dead."

The lust that had been in her eyes retreated back into a place she didn't know existed anymore. She shoved the man off her carelessly as she fell from the couch with her face buried in her hands.

"He… you know how there's still crazy things happening and we're trying to keep the bad people in Azkaban and at bay. During his uhh trip for the order."

She wrapped her arms tightly around her waist as tears fell on the front of her shirt. Her dark eyes turned to him "Why couldn't it have been you or Bill or Harry?"

The question hit him in the chest like a death curse. He stepped away from her. His blue eyes were round with surprise. "I'm so, so sorry, Angel."

"Don't call me that! How could you come here and k-kiss m-me? I'm your b-brother's w-wife. Oh, Merlin!" She screamed. It was a sound he'd never heard from her before. Given that he'd heard her make a lot of strange sounds. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and didn't budge when she made an attempt to push him away. "Stop. Please."

"Fine."

Angelina stared into his soft blue eyes. "I loved him." There was a soft cry heard in one of the rooms upstairs. They remained on the floor.

"He was your husband, and I'll help you with the kids," he said softly. After all, they were his brother's.

"I'd rather you didn't," she said coldly. She shoved him away and began walking towards the staircase. Molly and Marie were her ten-year-old twin daughters. They had café au lait colored skin and burnt orange hair, as did the two year old Ada.

"Why can't I help you with them?" His voice was angry. His blue eyes softened at the look she gave him at the base of the stairs. "I don't want to replace Fred!"

She was halfway up the stairs with fresh tears on her face when she turned back to him. "Are you coming, George?" She held her hand out to him. He stared at her with his mouth agape. His warm hand wrapped tightly around her cold one, and he never let her go.