When the World Stops
FredsAngel
Disclaimer: For the one person in the world who's stupid enough to think that I'm JK Rowling, I'm not. I don't own anything in the Harry Potter Omniverse. However, I do own the whole Johnson family (except Angelina, of course) and all of the Toussaints.
A/N: I started writing this the day after I finished OotP, but Alex said it seemed incomplete. It started out as Angie's feelings about Fred leaving and sort of evolved into whatever it is now.
A/N 2: The first four scenes are flashbacks. Then it switches to the present long enough to introduce another flashback before it stays in the present for the rest of the story.
A/N 3: The pen name at the beginning of each chappy IDs who wrote it. And the parentheses in the author's notes ID the other writer. If we do any during the story, we'll do initials (either FA or AF).
A/N 4: This is another one of the stories gathering dust on my desktop. We started it, but then dropped it in favour of another storyline as One Amazing Summer's sequel, as we weren't very happy with it. If you like this chapter, then I'll post the other four completed chapters. By the way, I haven't abandoned OAS; I just want chapter 4 to be as good as 3 was, but I can't come up with any really good ideas.
Chapter 1
December 1994
"Did you see how shocked Ron and Harry were when I asked you to this thing?" Fred asks me as he spins me into another couple.
"Sorry," I say, looking over my shoulder at a very upset Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies. I turn back to my date. "Yeah. The looks on their faces were priceless."
"I guess George, Lee, and Alicia didn't blab to the whole school."
"Fred, we've officially been a couple for two years; not to mention the casual dating and flirting before then. If they were going to tell, I'm sure they would have done it a long time ago."
"Why did we keep it hidden for so long?"
"Because you didn't want to admit that you could be in love with someone for longer than a week."
"You, my dear, are sadly mistaken. I believe it was you who couldn't admit to being in love for more than a week. I have no problem saying that I've been in love with the same woman for six long years."
"Six long years?"
Fred laughs as he dips me. I've just noticed that all the other couples have cleared out of our way. Not that I blame them; we are dancing rather enthusiastically. I bet that if they didn't know that Fred and I were an item before, they definitely know now.
"Angel?" Fred whispers in my ear. The Weird Sisters are playing a slow song now so everyone is moving back to the dance floor. Except Ron and Padma Patil. And Padma's sister Parvati and Harry.
"Yes?" I whisper back.
"Could this night be anymore perfect?"
"Well, there is one way." And without asking me what the one way is, Fred lowers his head to mine and gently kisses me.
"What makes you think that was what I wanted?"
"What else could you have meant?"
"This." And with that, my lips are on his and we're snogging passionately. I think I heard distant cheering somewhere in the background, but I quickly put it out of my mind. We're both out of breath when we pull apart.
Fred looks at me and says the only thing he can. "Damn!"
"Well thanks for the compliment, Fred."
We don't say anything else for a few moments, but that's fine with me. It just feels so right being in his arms. Then he breaks the silence. "I love you so much, Angel," he says before frowning over my shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, love."
I follow my boyfriend's gaze. "It's Bagman again, isn't it?"
"You know me too well."
"Look, Fred, I've danced with you all night. Go get your money back."
Fred's face lights up like a Christmas tree. "Really?"
"Really." Then he gives me a peck on the lips before grabbing George away from Alicia and running towards Ludo Bagman
October 1995
"I know I'm not rich or especially poetic and romantic. And I know that I'm not exactly the type of bloke that your parents wanted you to end up with, but Angelina, I love you more than anyone or anything on earth. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?" Fred asks me on bended knee.
I can't make so much as a squeak, so I merely nod my head as he slips the simple ring onto my finger. "Happy birthday, Angel," he whispers before pulling me in for a deep kiss. And just as he starts to pin me to his four-poster, I pull away. "Angel, what's wrong?" he asks, face full of concern.
"Nothing, love. But could you hand me my wand, please?" Fred raises an eyebrow at me, but hands me the wand. I quickly mutter a few silencing and locking charms. I then perform the contraceptive charm on the both of us. (I didn't want to take any chances; after all, he is one of seven children.) Afterwards, I cast my wand aside, slip my arms around Fred's neck and give in to the passion and desire that we both share.
April 1996
"Why, Fred? How can you do this to me? To us?" I desperately ask, tears beginning to form in my eyes.
"Angelina, please don't cry; I hate this as much as you do."
"If you hate it so much, then why are you going through with it?"
"Because you're the only thing worth staying here for." He takes my hands in his, blinking back the tears that are welling up in his own brown eyes. "Sweetie, we have the rest of our lives together; two little months are not going to rip us apart. We're not breaking up, so it's not the end of the world."
"Then why does it feel like it?"
"Because that's how strong our rapport is. Whenever I'm away from you, it's feels like the end of the world, no matter how short the distance or the length of time." Despite my tears, I can't help laughing. "Hey! What's so damn funny?" he asks indignantly and with a hurt look on his face.
"Nothing, really. I just remembered you telling me a few months ago that you weren't poetic and romantic. And I didn't know that you knew what a rapport was."
"I guess things changed me. Or, more accurately, you changed me." A few moments of silence go by before I change the subject back to the issue at hand.
"Can't you at least take me with you?"
"I'm sorry, Angel, but you know I can't. You're Head Girl; you have to stay here."
"What if I go to Umbitch's office, spit on my badge and throw it at her?"
"Then you're still Quidditch captain and the team needs you, especially since Harry, George and I are all banned from playing."
"Fred, if I did that, I'd probably be expelled anyway. Me being captain of the team would become a moot point."
"In that case, your parents would kill me for being a bad influence on you. And the whole wizarding world knows that Jake Johnson and Gabrielle Toussaint are not two people that you want angry with you."
"I don't care what they think. I'd give it all up for you, Fred."
"You'd turn your back on your family for me?"
"Yes."
He shakes his head and lets out a bitter laugh. "I wouldn't want you to do that, Angelina. It'd make you no better than Percy."
"Don't compare me to him. Your brother rejected your family for a job, something that isn't worth much. You are everything to me. They're two totally different things."
"Percy's job meant everything to him."
"Oh, shut up! You know what my point is. A job is a job. They're a knut a dozen. But a love like what we share is real. It's worth the sacrifice."
"Angel, read my lips: 'No.' You can't leave with me. You actually have something left for you here; I don't."
"But if you're gone…" I don't get any further than that before Fred cuts me off with his lips. Typical man: thinks everything can be solved with snogging and shagging.
"Shhh. Enough of all this depressing talk. What's been decided has been decided. And as for the present, lets make our last night together at Hogwarts memorable, eh?" he says when he finally releases me and catches his breath. And even though I want to finish this conversation, want to convince Fred to free me from this miniature Azkaban that Hogwarts has become, I smile and allow him to lead me up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.
August 1996
I'm pacing nervously around my spacious bedroom in Le Chateau du Toussaint. My attendants are just sitting around the room staring at me. Finally, Alicia speaks. "Angie! Sit down before you wear a hole in the floor and get your robes dirty."
I stop my pacing long enough to look at all the other women in the room. "I can't do this, guys. I'm too scared. What if I get to the altar and he says 'No'? What if it's just some elaborate prank? That type of thing isn't beneath him."
My twin sister, Abby (we're identical except for our eyes; hers are hazel and mine are brown), just laughed. "And that's why you should go through with it. About fifteen minutes ago, George told me that Fred was being paranoid and was afraid that you'd be the one to say 'I don't.' It's really quite funny, actually."
Alicia's eyes narrow at my sister and Abby notices. "Relax, Leesh, we are just friends. We're both very happy in our current relationships and we've been over far too long to screw them up."
"I trust George's ex-girlfriends about as far as I can throw them. And you being my best friend's sister does not make you an exception," Alicia shot back.
"You two, this is supposed to be my wedding day, not Fight-About-Who-Wants-George Day," I say, a bit annoyed. My statement sends Hermione and Ginny into a fit of giggles.
"Oh admit it, Angelina; you're secretly in love with George, too," Ginny accuses of me, laughing so hard that tears form in her eyes.
"Well, if she isn't, I sure am!" Hermione exclaims, laughing just as hard.
"This had better be a plan to stop my pre-wedding jitters," I warn them all.
"Of course, Angie. We all know that if you and Fred didn't get married, the world would come to an end. We couldn't have that weighing on our consciences now, could we?" Abby says sarcastically.
"One more word out of you, Abigail, and Alicia is my new maid of honour."
"Go ahead and try it; we both know that she can't fit into these robes."
"Hey! Are you calling me fat?" Alicia breaks in.
"You said it, not me," Abby says turning to my best friend.
Ginny, Hermione, Katie, and I are rolling on the floor laughing our arses off at this exchange. Leave it to my best friend and my twin to provide unwarranted comic relief. And they're the "serious" ones (but then, they've both dated George Weasley, so exactly how serious can they be?) Hmm...I wonder what Fred, George and Lee are doing right now.
"You little twig. I could snap you in half." Alicia glares at Abby, who returns her gaze.
"I'd rather be a twig than the whole damn tree."
Yes, it's my wedding, which is taking place at my grandparents' castle in Cognac. My grandfather, being the French Minister of Magic, is presiding over it (because no one in England trusts Fudge). A host of family and friends are here, as well as security to keep out the paparazzi. If my dad wasn't Jake Johnson and my mother wasn't Gabrielle Toussaint, we wouldn't need all this crap. But…my dad is Jake Johnson and my mother is Gabrielle Toussaint and the reality of the situation is that my wedding is this big production for the media despite the measures taken to keep everyone, especially Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet, out.
In other words, I'm not pacing around for the reasons that I say I am; I'm not worried that Fred's going to change his mind at the altar. We're already married; Fred and I exchanged vows last week in Jamaica. The real reason I'm pacing is because I resent being put on display for the whole wizarding world to see. Fred hates it too, which is why we eloped. We wanted our special day to be special, not a big circus.
Mrs. Weasley and my mother poked their heads into my room. "Antoinette, it's time for you to walk down the aisle, " my mother says as Mrs. Weasley kisses my cheek and whispers good luck sayings in my ear. (She's always called us by our French middle names.) "If only Annabelle were here to see how beautiful you look."
Annabelle… Audrey… Suddenly, I start crying. I can't believe she brought that up; I'm supposed to be happy today, not blubbering. Audrey Annabelle was my older sister who committed suicide at 19 to escape an abusive relationship. It was hard on everyone, but it hurt Abby and me the most; the three of us were so close that people often thought we were triplets. If it hadn't been for Fred and George (whom Abby was dating at the time), who knows what we would have done. Abby, Alicia, Katie, Ginny, and Hermione all envelop me in a hug.
"Mum, how could you say that to her?" Abby reprimands our mother. That's odd, seeing as she's usually the first one to defend her. She was also the only one of the three of us who never called her "Mum" when we were upset. (To my French-born mother, the ultimate insult is to refer to her as "Mum" instead of its French equivalent, "Maman.") Then she turns to me. "Sugar Quill, it'll be alright," she says using my childhood nickname while rubbing my back soothingly. "She's watching us from heaven right now; not even death could keep her from seeing this." Eventually, I regain my composure, redo my make-up and take Papa's arm as he leads me down the aisle and the 50-piece orchestra starts to play "Here Comes the Bride."
When I finally make it to the altar in the garden, Fred smiles at me and whispers "Déjà vu?"
"Not really; there's too many damn people here," I whisper back.
"Don't worry, Angel. We can get the hell out of here in about twenty minutes and be alone."
"Uh-uh. Sorry to burst your bubble, Weasley, but after the wedding is the reception. And unfortunately, the media is allowed there."
"Fuck."
"That comes after the reception, love," I tease.
"Looking forward to it."
"Ahem." My grandfather clears his throat. Fred and I grin sheepishly and allow him to continue with the ceremony that will undoubtedly be on the front page of the next day's Prophet.
July 2000 (present day)
But that was four years ago. Now, I'm 22-years-old and living the life of a muggle supermodel. I hate it so much. In fact, tears are pouring from my eyes as I look around the Cognac chateau that has been in my family for generations.
It's so lonely here. I had to start a new life; there was nothing for me in the wizarding world after the war ended. Everyone lost someone: Ginny lost Draco; Hermione lost Ron and Harry. George died trying to save Alicia, who was murdered anyway. And I lost my whole family: my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, sister and half-brother. That alone is depressing enough, but I lost the love of my life, too.
No, Fred didn't die in the war; quite the opposite, actually. He came home a hero, but the war changed him so much. In fact, I haven't really talked to him since it ended. We've been divorced for almost two years now.
August 1998
I Apparate outside the tiny flat in London where Fred lives now (after the war ended, he packed up his things and moved out), holding the papers I was served with that morning.
"Fred! Let me in!" I yell as I knock frantically on the door. This has to be some kind of mistake; he can't want a divorce. We were so happy together; we had the kind of love that you only hear about in muggle fairytales. This can't be right.
He finally answers the door, looking rather on the dishevelled side. He's wearing boxers and a tee shirt and his hair is tousled. He looks like he just woke up. Now, while it's true that Fred Weasley is definitely not a morning person, three o'clock in the afternoon is a bit extreme, even for him. So that leaves just one scenario: he's with someone else. "What do you want?" he asks me crossly. "I'm busy."
My heart plunges into my shoes. "A-a-about the p-p-papers… y-y-you can't r-r-really want a d-d-divorce," I stammer.
Fred folds his arms over his chest. "And why can't I?"
I wish the earth would open up and swallow me right now. "B-b-because you l-l-love me. Right?" I look at him with pleading eyes.
A sadistic grin appears on his lips. He's enjoying this; I can't believe that he likes watching me in this much pain. I suddenly have the feeling that I'm not going to like his answer to my question. "No," he says flatly before slamming the door in my face.
Tears well up in my eyes. Then it's true; after six long years together, Fred and I are history. And there is no chance of us ever getting back together. I don't even want to know who she is; Fred admitting that there is someone else in his life would just be the final nail in the coffin, the last twist of the knife. So I Apparate home and go straight to bed. There, the waterworks finally start.
