Welcome to another one-shot! I promise one day I'll do a chapter story, just wait...
I never realized writing George/Angelina would be so interesting. May have to do more. Dedicated to mr.elf123!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, yet I wish I did.
"Oi, stop shouting like a banshee!"
The dark-skinned girl's face reddens immensely as her mouth shouts automatically. She certainly wasn't prepared for his response when she'd begun to rant.
Fred Weasley leans over his floating broom, arms resting on the wood. A lazy smirk draws across his freckle-dotted face as he continues, "Good, you know Angelina, you look a lot cuter when you shut up."
Rolling dark brown eyes, Angelina finally speaks, "Fred, if this is your form of flirting, I'd have to say no. Maybe you should try taking lessons from George."
Her teasing remark bits into the twin, who at times does not like to be compared.
His face cools as he looks away, anywhere but the beautiful woman in front of him.
He can't tell her that sometimes she intimidates him. It's too embarrassing.
But it's certainly true. She's smarter and more put together then him at the moment.
Angelina's eyes narrow as she moves closer to her boyfriend…or is he even that?
"Fred…did I say something wrong? You know I was just joking. Remember we're the funny ones," she explains quietly, taking his hand.
Pale ears quickly redden as she laughs out loudly.
"See! I knew you weren't mad silly," she murmurs, lightly pecking his cheek, "I have to go, apparently Snape has found more extra work for me."
Legs quickly strolling away, she tries to hide the maddening blush that stains her cheeks. She doesn't want him to see that even a kiss makes her nervous!
Glancing behind her, towards the empty Qudditch field, her eyes follow the lone figure turning lazy circles.
Moments later, Angelina finds herself on the ground, her head aching. Looking up, ready to yell, she reddens.
Honestly, how could she run into a door? His figure wasn't that captivating!
Pulling herself up, Angelina straightens her robes, smiling widely.
She was in love with Fred Weasley.
"No! Get off of me!" she screams shrilly, running to the still body, which lies in the hospital wing.
Her eyes can only focus on Fred's cold figure, the pale skin.
His freckles that stand out too much against shocking orange hair.
Her hands grab onto his shoulders, desperately shaking him.
This really can't be happening.
This honestly can't be real.
"Fred, you lazy arse! Get up…get up," she whispers slowly sinking into sobs. Her face sinks into the sheets besides him, shoulders shaking.
She feels the stares of everyone around her.
Probably pitying the crazy girl.
"Angelina…we didn't think…how did you find out dear?" murmurs Molly's kind voice. Burning eyes turn to glare at the woman she considered another mother.
They…weren't going to tell her? She deserved to know!
"As if I wouldn't know Molly! If you honestly consider me some bimbo you're son was trailing along, you're wrong," she thunders. Her eyes trail over the various cuts and scrapes on the woman's face.
Sure…Angelina had fought, with all her heart. But not hard enough, not hard enough.
Not hard enough if Fred had died. They were supposed to be together forever.
He'd told her that once!
Once…it seemed so long ago.
"Angelina, this is a hard time for us all. I would rather you didn't yell at my mum," mutters a cross Bill, gaze dangerous.
Looking away, Angelina only grasps Fred's cold hand tighter.
Of course she would know. She couldn't quite…explain it. But her whole body had felt cold and bitter.
That was how she had known.
Dark hair spills around her shoulders, wild and splattered with who knows what.
But she doesn't care…she simply doesn't care.
Because Fred Weasley took his last breath and she never said goodbye.
Arms awake Angelina as they curl around her thicker waist.
Having a child can really make everything wider.
Groaning, she opens her eyes and gives George an annoyed smirk.
"Did you really need to make me get up? You can make breakfast yourself!" she mumbles trying to roll back into sleep.
Sleep evades the woman as she is pretty much tackled, knocking all the breath out of her.
Eyes open wide as she forcefully pushes George off to the ground. Crossing her arms over her chest, her face is almost purple.
Gathering breath, she angrily whispers, "What is your problem? How lazy can you be you arse!"
George pops up, face wide in laughter, his red hair is longer now brushing his shoulders.
"My problem is you! How can I not wake up the snoring beast? Any who, Fred wants him mum to make him breakfast. I tried and the little bugger threw it out the window," he coolly explains as Angelina sighs.
Slowly dragging herself out of the bed, she tries to put some control into the wild bush that is her morning hair.
George pops up in the mirror besides her, face twisted. "Dear…I'm more then sure Freddie doesn't care about your appearance?" he questions, generally concerned.
Turning a quick glare at him, dark hands deftly arrange the hair into several tight braids.
"I more then sure I do though…sweetie," she mutters, walking out of the large bedroom.
The family resides over Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, after magically extending the size of the home.
Angelina widely yawns, stomach protesting at the thought of cooking. Erupting into the kitchen, she turns a smirk at her young son.
Her alert eyes study him, thoughts quickly forming.
He'll be quite the little Casanova at Hogwarts. Especially since he has his father's flirting skills.
He's already tall for his age of seven and curly orange hair sprouts out from tight braids. Darker skin is dotted with light freckles and he smiles to reveal a missing tooth.
"Mum! Took you long enough, I'm dying of hunger," he exclaims as Angelina's smirk vanishes.
Silently walking past him, she digs in the fridge, locating the milk and cereal.
Confused eyes watch her movements as she sits in a chair across from him, digging into her bowl of cereal.
"Oi…where's mine?" he quietly questions, sitting in his sit. His entire demeanor seems to droop as his mother takes her longest before answering, "Oh, Freddie is that you? I have to tell you, not even five minutes ago; the rudest boy was sitting there! If he was my child, I would've…I don't even know."
Done speaking, she glances at her son as she eats another spoonful.
Angelina tries to not choke on the suddenly disgusting meal, as it seems to come alive in her stomach.
Fred sighs into his arm as his father walks into the room, pulling his hair up. George takes in the scene with a bemused smile.
"Dad…would you make me some breakfast? The bus should be coming any minute and I'm famished!" he finally questions loudly.
The older man laughs lightly, brandishing his wand. All around them, knifes begin to cut and the stove quickly cooks.
Minutes later, Fred rushes out the door, backpack and plate in hand.
"Bye mum!"
The door slams shut as Angelina closely watches her son from the window.
He goes to a muggle school, one that happens to pick him up in front of a 'broken-down' inn.
George sighs as he falls into the still warm seat, looking at his wife.
"Do you see how he still only says things to you?" he asks.
Angelina's deadpan answer causes him to laugh out loudly.
"Well it did take 17 hours to birth him. He obviously wasn't to fond over leaving the womb."
Her eyes widen as she fights to keep down her food, when she loses the battle. Face turning green, she stands covering her mouth.
Bare feet rush over wood floors heading for the bathroom, a worried George close behind her. As the two reach the bathroom, the door is shut in his face as Angelina hunches over the white porcelain.
A flush of the handle as all her breakfast and dinner go down the pipes, Angelina glances at the slightly open door.
"You can come in. I don't understand why you want to see my vomit anyways," she mutters, stomach gurgling in loud reply.
She knows this feeling.
She had the same feelings seven years ago.
Groaning into her hands, she is surprised and disgusted as George's lips close over hers.
The redhead is also disgusted as he leans away, wiping at his mouth.
"Your breath is gross! What are we gonna name it?"
Angelina rolls her eyes, face reddening. This man is her husband…as stupid as he can be at times.
The little brat that pulls at her hair and burps in her ear is her gorgeous son.
The horrible feeling in her gut, the gurgling…is another child.
Most likely…either that…or gas.
Softly smiling, Angelina's arms rest over her flat stomach, already imaging the baby's room.
Angelina loves Fred…she loves Fred so much her heart aches at times.
Yet Angelina also loves George…and she knows Fred is okay with it.
Because Fred loved her…and when you love someone, you only want them to be happy.
Angelina was happy.
Thanks for reading! Please be sure to review.