A story about Angelina and George and how they may have come together.
Part (1/5)
Chapter 1: The Rude Awakenmanding
Angelina Johnson appeared like she always did. Silently.
It wasn't a bad trait to have really, especially considering she had once been a dang good Quidditch player. He was willing to bet that that was one of the many things that had made her such a great Chaser to begin with- her ability to appear out of nowhere. He had just been sitting at the desk going over some reports and waiting for the big hand of the clock to reach the twelve when he saw her, standing in the middle of a group of young energetic kids. She stood out like a sore thumb, standing in front of a wall of Weasley Wheezes products, looking thoroughly amused, her hands buried in the pockets of her blue jeans.
George Weasley, owner, proprietor and genius of mischief tried not to be annoyed by her presence. He got up from his desk and turned to the kids in the shop.
"Alright, we're closed now. Thanks for buying here, but times up…"
There was some loud moaning from some of the boys. George felt no pity, he knew they had no money anyway, they'd just been standing there drooling over products for the last hour shamelessly. He threw them some understanding smiles and finally managed to herd them out. Without even looking at her he locked the front door by wand and let out a sigh of relief, enjoying the quiet that settled over the place. Walking behind the desk he glanced at her.
"Should I ask what you're doing here?"
Angelina raised her eyebrows. Reaching out one hand she carefully picked up a long thin box containing the eye blackening telescope.
"I should think it would be obvious George," she said finally. "What reason does one normally enter this shop for?
George didn't feel like guessing games. He knew she wasn't there to buy anything. Still, for the sake of the game, he played along.
"We're closed Ange." He said monotonously. "Even if you are one of my best mates, you could have bought it five minutes ago."
Angelina looked annoyed. "I'm here to see you," she emphasized, tossing the box back onto the shelf.
"I just saw you yesterday." George reminded her. "April first, remember? Lovely party… then you, Lee, Katie, and Alicia kidnapped me and took me out for a drink."
It had been a relief too. George had never felt more uncomfortable in his life that morning. He must have wished it wasn't his birthday at least a dozen times as his mother was lighting the candles, tears running down her face. Then a dozen more as the family started to sing Happy birthday and realized in the middle of the song that they would only be singing 'dear George' and not 'dear Fred and George' this year… and that in fact there would never be a 'Fred and George' year ever again.
"I remember," she told him, rolling her eyes. "I'm not here because of that."
George raised his eyebrows.
"I'm here because I need a job."
George forced a laugh. He had become quite good at forced laughs and smiles over the past year. Annoying really, he had always hated people who were fakers and here he was, an expert in the field. Still, it beat the alternative, which was to not smile at all. He looked over at Angelina Johnson, her dark eyes boring holes into him, as if annoyed.
"Look, Verity or whatever her name was doesn't work here anymore. You can't manage a shop this popular all by yourself. You need someone to help out and I need a job. Seems like a fair trade."
It was true. Things were absolutely crazy without any help from anyone. George had been toying with the idea of asking Ron to come help him for a while, but something kept holding him back. He knew he'd probably ask his brother someday but there seemed to be something in the back of his mind saying, 'Not yet, not yet…'
Anyway, he needed the work. Sure it was overwhelming and he lost far too much sleep over it, but it kept him sane and gave him an excuse to leave early from family gatherings, or to avoid them entirely. 'Sorry, work.' 'Duty calls, Mum… I'll see you at next month…' Ex cetera.
Besides, what would he do without it? There would be too much time to think.
"If I really wanted help, I'd hang up a 'help wanted' sign Ang'." George informed her, walking to the window and flipping the sign from open to Closed. "Thanks for inviting yourself and all, but no thanks. I'm managing quite well."
Angelina crossed her arms and snorted. "Yeah, you're managing fine," she said, tossing her head and making her braid of thousands of little cornrows flop over her shoulder. "But wouldn't you like to enjoy it for once? You know, you used to like having the shop too."
George blinked. He was glad his back was turned towards her so she'd have no idea of how she'd managed to hit the nail right on the head. Had she known how many times that he had almost thrown in the towel, almost quit it all? Every time he'd found a reason to quit, he'd found a reason to stay. He needed something to keep him occupied. His family would think he'd fallen off the deep end. It was Fred's shop…
Yes, it was Fred's shop. If the shop died then Fred would die again, it was as simple as that.
Yet sometimes he couldn't help it. He would stand up in his room, surrounded by parchment, cauldrons, unfinished products and scream in his mind, "he's already dead! He'd dead, he's dead and nothing will change it so why bother?!"
George spoke slowly, keeping his voice light. "I'm not sure what you mean Angelina." He lied smoothly. "But I know enough about you to know you won't give up until I show you you're wrong. I'll try to find something for you to do tomorrow morning. Shop opens at eight."
"Good," said Angelina smoothly. "I expect that my salary will be excellent... or at least suffient for paying the rent." She smiled one of her mysterious smiles at his back, or more appropriately, at his refection of his face in the dark glass of the store window. Then, like smoke, she disappeared.
George turned to look at the spot she had just been standing, mere seconds before.
'Someday I'll have to ask her how she apparates without making a sound,' he decided. Pointing his wands at the lamps, he turned down the lights and went up the stairs.
And thus it begins...
I realize there are a lot of Fred/Angelina fans who were disappointed that George ended up marrying her. I've always liked George a tad more though... so I was really happy that he'd at least gotten married to someone who knew Fred and would have therefore understood his pain.
R&R if you please... and if you don't please. :)
