Hi again! I was recently re-reading the Harry Potter Series because why not and I thought about how George and Angelina get married in the future, and that sparked an idea. So I hope you enjoy!

- SwordGold

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine - everything belongs to J.K


Tone of Surprise

"You came," George failed to suppress his shock as he approached the witch after the funeral.

Angelina raised an eyebrow, "Why the tone of surprise?" she smiled, though it didn't quite reach her deep brown eyes. She had such beautiful eyes, George thought to himself as they stood together in front of the newly dug grave of his twin brother. Her hair was braided into a messy bun, with small ringlets that framed her bronze oval face. Fred had always liked to play with her hair in between Quidditch practices. George remembered that because he'd teased Fred that if he kept doing that he'd get tangled in it. Fred and George had both had a thing for the fiery Gryffindor but Fred had always been more forward about his affections, and George, not wanting to come in between them had accepted it with a smile and a laugh. They had dropped out of contact when Angelina and her family had gone into hiding when Voldemort had taken over the Ministry.

"Fred always looked at me like that," she murmured, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Huh?"

"That look that you've been giving me for the past five minutes," she elaborated with a teasing quirk of her lips as she brought her face closer to his.

"What look?" he asked: genuinely curious now. They were so close that he could smell that floral perfume that she wore.

"That look that you always teased him about," she replied.

"I teased him about a lot of things though," he pointed out, causing the former to giggle slightly, "He loved you, you know."

Those words seemed to drop between them like stones, her smile disappearing from her face just as quickly as it had appeared. For some reason her lack of response only seemed to spur him on. He thought back to the golden pin that still sat warm in his pocket.

"Angelina will love this," Fred had said as he'd passed a hefty handful of galleons to the shopkeeper. George had rolled his eyes and called him a "lovesick dork" because he was and Fred had shrugged his shoulders and laughed in response.

He'd taken it from his brother's pocket when he'd died. How ironic it was that a small delicate pin had survived the explosion but his ever-smiling brother hadn't.

George took it out of his pocket and placed it into the witch's hands.

"Fred bought this for you," he said, "Before the war, I mean … he was going to give it to you after the battle but he …"

Didn't make it went the unspoken.

Angelina seemed lost for words, but when George tried to take his hand back she didn't let go. His eyes widened for a moment, temporarily taken back. She searched his face that reminded her so much of Fred that it made her heart flutter.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, "Thank you."

She reached up and pressed her lips briefly against his cheek before she stepped back, her eyes still on his, now swimming with tears before she disapparated, leaving George alone with nothing but his thoughts and the grave of his other half as he felt the place where her lips had come into contact with his cheek.