Conversations and Revelations

Disclaimer: Do we really have to go through this? Joanne Kathleen Rowling owns all literary rights to Harry Potter and Warner Bros. owns the movie rights.

A/N: I was deleting all the Word documents from my hard drive and thought I'd finish and post all the fics that I started that weren't complete and utter crap. This is the first one. Oh and AngelsFred has finally posted a fic (::cough:: lazy ::cough::). It's called "Ironic" (like the Alanis Morrissette song) and it centers around Angelina's suicide. If you catch any grammatical errors in it at all, make sure you point them out in your reviews because I just want to laugh (he's an English major).

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"Oi, Angelina! Slow down!" Angelina Johnson turned around as a voice broke into her thoughts. She waited for the person behind her to catch up.

"Hurry up, George. I haven't all day," she said to the out of breath redhead that was running toward her.

"Yes, well, we pure-blooded wizards aren't used to running. That's what broomsticks are for."

"You seem to forget that I'm pure-blooded also."

"You're one of three heiresses to the biggest fortune in Europe. I doubt anyone could forget that you're a pureblood." The pair walked in silence for a few seconds, before George gasped. "Oh, yeah! You dropped this."

Angelina looked down to see what he was holding. "Thanks, George," she said after her friend handed over the diamond ring and chain that had fallen from her neck. "I didn't realise that I had lost it."

"You should be more careful with that. I'm not always going to be here to pick up everything after you lose it."

Angelina looked at her friend and smiled. "Yes, you will. And I know you weren't just referring to the ring."

George laughed. "You know me so well. But speaking of the ring, Fred'll kill you if he finds out you dropped it."

"No, he won't. I bet he thinks I pawned it and moved to France."

George shook his head and said, "Actually, he knows you're still in England."

"And the ring? And why wouldn't he think I was in France? He knows that Cognac is the first place I go when I'm upset."

"He knows you too well to think that you would pawn it. Abby and I told him that you were England when he was about to head to France to talk to you."

Angelina stopped suddenly. "You two did what?!"

"It was for your own good; we think you should talk to him."

"You two would think that. You always were the responsible ones. Why did you two break up, anyway?"

George's eyes clouded for the briefest instant before the trademark Weasley gleam came back. "Don't try to change the subject, young lady. We're talking about your relationship with my twin, not my relationship with yours. He loves and misses you, you know."

"Yes, well, he should've thought of that before he decided that he wanted to see other people and broke off the engagement." Angelina's voice had a bitter edge to it.

"You feel the same way." Angelina started to protest. "Don't deny it, Lina. Why else would you still wear the ring? Let's face it. If I can count all the guys you've gone out with in the last year on one hand, you're either trying to hold on to false hope or you're a lesbian. And I can vouch for the fact that you're straighter than an arrow. "

After hearing those words, Angelina shut up. It often amazed her that George Weasley knew her so well. In fact, the only person who knew her better was her twin, Abigail. After a few more moments of silence, she looked at George. "Then why hasn't he come to see me yet?"

"Two reasons. The Daily Prophet has been saying that you've been seeing someone else, which isn't all that unbelievable. After all, every red-blooded wizard's fantasy is you, Abby, or the both of you. "

"Didn't we learn not to trust the Prophet a long time ago? And what about Audrey?"

"Yeah, well, he's as stubborn and pigheaded as you are. And she's married. Plus she's not as hot as you twins are."

"What was the second reason?"

"We told him wait for you to cool down.."

"And he's been waiting for me to calm down for a year?" Finally, the two reached Angelina's custom-made scarlet and gold Bugatti EB Veyron 16.4 with the vanity plate that read "GRYFFGAL."

"Lina, you started to use the Cruciatus Curse on him for saying that you should take a break and see other people! He's afraid you'd AK him if he went to visit you. I shudder to think what you would've done if he had cheated on you," George said dramatically.

"I'm glad that you think my life falling apart is funny, Drama Queen."

"I try. Hmm; so you think I'm a drama queen. How do you think I'd look in drag?"

"Maybe you should ask my sister that; she's the fashion designer, not me." For the second time, she noticed a flash of sadness in his eyes. It's like he still misses her even though it's been over between them for years, she thought.

George hopped over the passenger side of the convertible. "Good point. No wonder you were Head Girl. Though Fred used to say you got the job because you –" Angelina cut him off.

"Shut up, George. It wasn't funny when Fred said it and it's not funny now," she snapped. "And will you learn how to use the door?! I'm tired of removing the scratches every time you jump over the side."

George raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And I'm the drama queen?"

"Go to hell, Weasley."

"Only if you go there with me."

"I hate you, George."

"I know."

They drove around in silence for a while as Angelina expertly manoeuvred her sports car in London traffic as they headed toward Diagon Alley. She chanced to sneak a peek at her companion. She was worried about him; he was so uncharacteristically quiet. She glanced at him again out of the side of her eye. Before he had been looking out the window, but now…it seemed like he had been staring at her with a pensive expression on his face. "George?"

The sound of her voice seemed to jolt him out of his reverie. "What? Are we there already?" he asked, a surprised look on his face.

"Nah. I just remembered that you never answered my question," Angelina responded, her eyes fixed on the road.

"About what?"

"Why you and Abby split up."

"We weren't right for each other." Sweet Merlin, please let this satisfy her curiosity, he thought. I'm tired of changing the subject every time she brings it up.

"George, what the hell kind of answer is that? I want specifics, dammit!"

Damn. "Angie, you know what the Muggles say? 'Curiosity killed the cat.'"

"Satisfaction brought her back again." Angelina smirked before she looked over her shoulder and eased her automobile onto the side of the street. "We are staying right here until you give me a straight answer."

"We weren't in love, Angie. We wanted to be with other people. Plus the whole long distance thing wasn't working. You can't have a relationship based on owl post."

"So why didn't you just take a break? That's what Fred wanted to do."

"Do I need to remind you that you and Fred haven't spoken in over a year? And we wanted to be with specific other people."

"And did it work out?" Angelina asked. There's something very odd about this conversation, she thought to herself. I just don't know what it is or why it's odd.

"It did for Abby. You've seen her with Jean-Luc; they're so happy it's sickening. Kind of like you and Fred used to be." George's voice seemed to have a bitter edge to it, but Angelina just assumed it was her imagination.

"And yours?"

"She's in love with someone else; always has been. I don't know what to tell you; it's quite pathetic, really. I'm pining over a woman who spends her time pining over an ex-boyfriend who didn't appreciate her until she was gone." That story should set off some bells in her head. She always was good at logic puzzles.

Well, that didn't make any sense. Doesn't he know how common that little fairy tale is? Hell, the way he made it sound, he could've been talking about… Angelina's thoughts trailed off. No, that's impossible; he can't feel that way about me. I was his brother's fiancée for Merlin's sake. I must just be feeling especially conceited and reading too much into things today. But out loud she asked, "George, who was she?"

"It's not important." Well, it isn't. She was always so damn wrapped up in Fred that I could've bloody proposed to her in the middle of the Quidditch World Cup and she wouldn't have had a clue. Why can't she just take no for an answer? Why does she have to be so damn persistent? George smiled to himself since he already knew the answer to his silent questions. Because she's Angelina.

"George, please tell me; I have to know." It can't be me; it just can't.

Weasley, you are not allowed to feel this way! She is Fred's! George's thoughts voiced the all too familiar inner conflict that had been ripping him apart for months. Well, actually, she's fair game since they've been broken up for over a year. And she says that she has to know, so… George bent his head down, claimed Angelina's lips and gave her the answer that she had been begging for. And to his surprise, she kissed him back with equal passion and fervour. They were both out of breath when they pulled apart.

George looked at Angelina, his silent question in his eyes. And as much as she wanted to say "yes," she knew that she couldn't. Because for all the headaches and heartbreak that he had given her, Angelina still loved Fred. She knew that he was the only man for her. Wordlessly, she shook her head. And then George reached around her neck and undid the clasp of her chain. He took the ring off of it and slid it back onto Angelina's finger, its rightful place.

"Thanks, Angie; I've wanted to do that for the longest time," he whispered into her ear just before she guided her convertible back onto the highway. "So are you ready to go back?" he asked, speaking in his usual double entendre. Angelina nodded, understanding both of his meanings: going back home and going back to the way things used to be.