Author's note: This is just a oneshot fanfic about Angelina immediately after Voldemort dies and people are sitting in the Great Hall.
Disclaimer: If I were J.K Rowling, do you really think I'd spend my time writing fanfic?
It's awful, but yet wonderful. The reason my dreams have been nightmares are gone- but not without a great price. I can see the bodies lined up. A little more than fifty, one of which is Colin Creevey. The kid was annoying, but so brave for sneaking back in to the castle. He's so small. I keep walking and see the sight I really don't want to see. The Weasley's are crying, sobbing, around the still form of Fred Weasley. Even in death, he's still smiling. But I don't see George. Why isn't he here with his best friend and partner in crime?
I keep walking. There are so many dead: former Hogwarts students, Hogsmeade residents, and others I can't even put a name to. And the castle itself has taken a pretty hard beating, with chunks missing everywhere. But I know it will eventually become the gleaming place as I remember it as, when I played quiditch with Wood, Alicia, Katie, Harry, George⦠and Fred. The nuisance who I had a great time with at the Yule Ball, and who made me laugh so hard.
In the corner I see a hunched over figure. It looks like it's sobbing, and I can see the red hair peeking out like fire. Anytime a member of his family or a friend comes near he ignores them until they eventually give up and leave him alone. This is George Weasley. I can't take it anymore and walk towards him. When he doesn't look up I sit down next to him, and I notice he peaks from under his arm to see who it is. While everyone else gave up, I will not leave a friend to sit alone in a corner.
When George finally looks up, his eyes are bloodshot and he looks as if he wants to die. I look him in the eyes and I suddenly realize there are tears dripping down my face as well. Together we sit in the corner and cry. I eventually put my arm around him and he doesn't shrug it off, and at some point his arm goes around my waist and his head is resting on my shoulder.
Together we sit and mourn the loss of Fred Weasley.
So that was pretty angsty, but the idea was bugging me all night and I just needed to write it down. Please review!
