Scars of War

by Love From A Muggle

He didn't like living in the future. He wanted his past, his memories. He wanted his redheaded twin who would make mischief with him back. Until she came along and changed everything. George/Angelina, For Kait, completed.

1. Prologue

For Kait, a month early, but I had to write a George story.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Prologue

There's no other love like

the love for a brother.

There's no other love like the love

from a brother.

~Astrid Alauda

May, 1998 right after the Second War

A funeral should not be happy. A funeral should not be full of bright colors. A funeral is a place to mourn the loved ones who died. A funeral should not have a bright sunny day in Spring. If anything, it should be full of clouds with a hint of rain to set the mood for the mourners. George Weasley hated funerals. He glared at Luna Lovegood for wearing bright blue instead of black. He glared at the sky for being happy instead of sad.

He saw a sea of chairs lined up in neat rows in front of him on Hogwarts lawn. He leaned against a tree with his hand in his pocket of his black suit he bought especially for the funeral. He knew he'd throw it away right as soon as it was over. It would start soon, he knew, but he wasn't ready. He had been asked to speak in front of the millions of people present, but turned it down for he could find no voice.

He saw her there walking in with her parents. Angelina looked at him, then glanced away as fast as lightening. He thought he saw her glare at him. He stood there shocked, not really knowing what to do. It wasn't his fault his brother died, or his fault anyone else died. He saw his family come in after Angelina. The only person that came over to him was Hermione Granger. He noticed his mum was being held up by both his father and by Ron.

"We're going to save you a seat, George," she said with a tissue in her hand.

"No thanks," George replied. He knew he wouldn't last long there. He just wanted to get away from it all.

"Well, there will be one for you, if you choose to stay." She knew he'd run as soon as it started.

And he did. He heard sad music playing from somewhere, stared at the sea of black, and one bright blue, and turned away not looking back. He knew his mother would be unhappy, but it was his choice to leave the scars of war behind.