Be Careful What You Wish For...
Author - Sunnycouger
Rating – K+
Summary - Angelina's reaction after she finds out about Fred at the castle.
Author's Notes - Deathly Hallow's was a hard book for me on a number of levels, but one of the big ones was that one of my few ships who were canon got sunk when Fred died. Now I know we had no indication that Fred and Angelina were together in the book, but I like to believe they were because I love them and because of that, I wanted to do a F/A piece. I always thought F/A would be my foofy couple, but apparently not. I started this almost immediately after I finished the book, but shelved it because I was a bit unhappy with it and then lost it for a while. Anyway, when I was transferring stuff onto my new computer I found it again and I've reworked some parts and I'm happier with it now and just want to get it posted and out the way.
Disclaimer - Fred, Angelina and the other characters within this story don't belong to me. I borrow from JKR and make no money out of them. Don't sue, I own nothing worth taking.
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It was over. Angelina Johnston would have been lying if she had said she had imagined the day would come when Fred Weasley wasn't there anymore. Sure, she would tell him to go and jump in front of the Knight Bus, or to go splinch himself, or even to go and find a Death Eater and leave her alone, but it was just one of those things she said. He would laugh, give her a wink, make a joke to wind her up and then reach over, kiss her cheek and say with a grin. 'You know you love me, really,' before walking away.
That was just the way they were - the way that they had always been, right from the very first day at Hogwarts when he had set the hem of her robes on fire (accidentally apparently) and she had responded by kicking him so hard in the shins during the introductory speech that he had loudly swore right when Dumbledore was introducing Snape to the hall. It was just them - it was what they did.
That's why she didn't bother when he talked about chatting up Fleur's pretty cousins, or why he didn't care when she would pretend she had a thing for Oliver Wood. She knew that he wasn't really interested in the Veela cousins, the same way that he knew that she would sooner go out with Flitwick than go out with Oliver. It was a game - a harmless game because they knew what buttons to press with each other to get the right reaction, and they both loved getting a reaction. Peace, quiet and convention was not really something that either of them had a lot of time for. There was enough going on in the world that was serious and stressful without being serious and stressed about anything else - they wanted fun, and laughter, and silly arguments about unimportant things just to have an excuse to make things up later or elaborate plans for the future involving fame, fortune and success.
This here though? This whole thing that she was standing here witnessing? This was never part of their plan.
She could still remember how it started as well. It was one of those moments that brought a smile to her face every time she thought about it. He'd asked her out in fifth year and she had said yes. That was it. His invite pretty much summed up their relationship - it wasn't elaborate, it wasn't romantic but it was spontaneous, it was fun and it was them.
'Oi, Angelina!' Two little words that seemed to preface so much of what was important in her life after that. He knew it drove her crazy when he did it, which of course made him do it all the more. 'Oi, Angelina - you fancy going out tonight?', or 'Oi, Angelina - you never told me you scrubbed up that well or I would have asked you out ages ago.'or 'Oi, Angelina - did I ever tell you I love you?'
He was like that. Even when he was being serious, he was Fred. He was just...Fred. There was no changing him, even if she wanted to, which she didn't.
She took a deep breath and held her sides in an effort to stop them clenching in on her lungs anymore than they seemed to be doing. She refused to cry. This...this was a happy moment, this was what they had all dreamed about and wished for. The war was over, the good guys had won so she had to be happy, and that meant that her eyes had to be lying to her. She wasn't going to cry because she knew she must be seeing things because fate couldn't be cruel enough to kill him on the happiest day in the history of the wizarding world.
It seemed so bizarre, she thought. It seemed like any minute now he would jump up with a big grin on his face and go 'Ha! Fooled you all! Did you see?' And everyone would shout, and scream and slap him but they'd be so happy because he was Fred, and stupid jokes, even about serious stuff was what he did.
She clenched her eyes shut and opened them again and willed herself to see him jump up alive. Any second now it would happen. Any second now...
The seconds continued to pass though and still he didn't move.
His parents were there, along with his brothers and although she couldn't see Ginny she was sure she would have been around somewhere. She saw a figure lying on the cold hard ground, it's face hidden from clear view but she knew it was him. She looked over from the hallway and for a split second she pretended that her eyes were wrong, and it was really George that was lying there and although she felt guilty about wishing him dead, she couldn't help herself. She imagined that it was the distance she was standing at which explained why Fred's hair was a bit shorter than it had been, and it was the darkness playing tricks with her when she couldn't see his ear. She knew it was wrong to think like that but she didn't care and if she tried just a little harder it would be so easy to convince herself that the hair, the clothes, the ear, the smile was exactly the way it should be and that the body on the floor looked like George.
Unfortunately though, as much as she tried to convince her brain that Fred was sitting there, she knew he wasn't. She knew it was George, looking down at the man who shared his face, who was his best friend, who probably had no idea what he was feeling right now and who would be unable to comprehend the alien concept of finally being on his own.
She closed her eyes again and leant her head against the wall. The pain in her sides was only matched with the burning in her throat. As much as she was refusing to allow herself to cry she knew that if she had to form words just now that she wouldn't be able to keep herself together and she really needed to keep from breaking down here, in front of everyone. This was a happy day...
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"I would say you don't need to come, but knowing that you are a modern woman I figured you would be offended if I mentioned it," he grinned as he tossed her an apple. "Although it has to be said that I, being of the chivalrous sort, would really rather you stayed here and kept yourself safe and left the fighting to...you know, the men."
"Ah Fred, see - chivalry is a good thing. Chauvinism, on the other hand? Not so good," she said as she flung the apple back towards him while making it dance around mid-air with her wand, before sending it at speed towards his head. "You know I could curse you as well as anyone."
"I have no doubts," he muttered as he rubbed his head before picking up the apple and taking a bite out of it. "Actually, you have cursed me more than just about anyone now that I think about it...I always knew there was a little Slytherin side of you just waiting to emerge."
She gave him a smirk. "I only curse you when you deserve it, which just happens to be pretty often. If it were my Slytherin side then I would have cursed you at least twice as much."
"I love you too," he said as he got up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Seriously though, Angelina. This is...well, it could be dangerous. You should stay..."
"Fred..."
"No, listen to me, okay? People are going to die, and although I am willing to bet that it will mostly be Death Eaters who bite it, some of our side will go too. I'm ready for it - me and George? We've been ready for this for ages, years. We know how this is going to end up. Some people are going to die and I'd rather not be worried that one of those people were you."
"Fred? I'm a Gryffindor. I can fight with anyone, I have done all the training that you guys have done, plus I have had years of dodging curses, and hexes, and everything else that has been flung at us so I fancy my chances against most people. I'm going," she got up and walked over to him, needing him to see that she was serious. "I'm going. I have zero interest in sitting here worrying about you, or anyone else. I'm not a coward, and you don't need to worry about me. I can look after myself."
He sighed before giving her a grin as he sat the apple down on the table behind him. "That's my girl. See, this is why I chose you - you aren't one of those girls who hide. You're feisty - a very stereotypically Gryffindor type of girl."
"You chose me?" she asked, hiding her smile and replacing it with a fake frown.
"Of course I chose you - I remember it perfectly. I asked you to the Yule Ball, you said yes, and I've pretty much let you stick around ever since. You don't need to thank me...well, not too much."
She rolled her eyes. "You know I only stuck around because Oliver had left school. You always were only the second best looking guy on the Quidditch team - well...third if you throw in Harry but that would have been a little too weird. I could even throw George's long hair phase in there before you as well if you like but we won't go into that. Speaking of the lovely, successful and handsome Oliver though - Katie tells me that he's coming to Hogwarts with us..."
"I know you don't really like Oliver," he said as he pulled her over towards him. "You'd be bored after about an hour. He has no idea how to keep a girl like you on your toes."
"You assume that I would need to be kept on my toes with him though. I could think of far better things to do that wouldn't involve being on my feet," she smiled innocently while he slid his arm round her waist. "And I know you don't really believe that you let me do anything..."
"Maybe not, but it's good for my ego to pretend for a while..."
"Like your ego needs any help, Fred Weasley," she whispered as she kissed him.
"You know something, Angelina?" he said as he pulled back from the kiss abruptly. "You should marry me."
"Excuse me?" she asked as she felt her breath catch in her throat, unsure if he had said what she was sure he had said. It sounded a lot like a proposal and while they both took it for granted that it would end up happening at one point, it was the first time he had actually suggested it. She momentarily wavered between nonchalance in case she had misheard, and grinning because she was sure that she hadn't, but as she continued, she couldn't hide her smile. "Seriously?"
He nodded his head with confidence, as though something had suddenly clicked into place in his brain and he had a clear focus. "Seriously. I mean, maybe not right away - maybe next year when the whole war thing is won and there's less fuss about getting wards, and portkeys, and polyjuice potions and all that crap that Bill had to get. We could even elope and save the whole wailing witches at the wedding thing which would be so much better..." He paused as he seemed to be thinking of it. "Definitely better. Although possibly we would have to tell our mother's about it while we were in another country so they didn't kill us. But yeah, I'm serious I mean, come on, are you really going to get a better offer than me? Attractive, young, successful, funny, devilishly good-looking, brave, quick-witted, handsome, charming, physically stunning, smart, not to mention good-looking..."
"When you put it like that, you are quite a catch," she giggled as he moved away from her and continued, animated and persuasive, gesturing with his hands as he listed off his plus points. She settled on the edge of the table and he quit pacing as he walked over close to her.
"I am quite a catch! And - obviously I have impeccable taste in women, so you are pretty all right yourself," he said as he ran a finger over the delicate skin of her wrist. "Which means, in a few years when we have kids they would have such a strong gene-pool in terms of my brains, our combined good looks, your temper, my humour and your extreme good taste that it would be practically impossible for us to screw it up. It would be like little demi-Gods running around Hogwarts excelling at everything. Plus? We are almost 100% guaranteed to have little Gryffindors who are going to be great at Quidditch. I mean come on! Where else do you get that sort of guarantee?"
"Multiple little Quidditch playing, Gryffindor demi-Gods running Hogwarts, huh? You do make a compelling argument," she pretended to think a minute before turning back to him with a smile. "You have to ask me again when we're finished at Hogwarts. I don't want you to take it back when you get all hero worshipped when we win. So ask me again afterwards," she wrapped her arms around his neck and leant close to his ear and whispered. "But just so you know, when you ask me again, barring any better offers I might receive before hand, I'll be saying yes."
He grinned, gave her a long kiss before pulling away and rolling his eyes. "Go and ruin the surprise, why don't you, Johnston. There's not much point asking you now if I already know the answer."
She shrugged her shoulders, trying to keep the smile off her face as she stood and grabbed her wand and cloak. "Keep it up and I might change my mind, Weasley."
He held his hands up in an I surrender pose. "One simple question and the nagging starts...no wonder Dad went bald."
"I'm getting the practice in early," she grinned as she pulled her cloak over her robes, wishing that she didn't have to leave. Unfortunately, in these times, little things like getting from place A to place B had to be timed to perfection or else it was dangerous. "Sadly, some of us have a portkey to catch, so I have to get going if I'm going to make it. I swear that will be the one thing I will not miss after tonight..."
She sighed as she turned and looked at him. It felt like a big moment - maybe because it was. The next time she saw him they would be fighting people - that seemed big and she was sure that she should say something to him, to let him know how she felt, just in case. She didn't want to do that though - she didn't want to think of anything like that. She wanted to be positive.
"Try not to get yourself killed before you get there, especially if George is doing the apparating. Remind him that splinching is never a good thing..." she smiled as he walked over towards her.
"That was that one time!" he laughed as he pulled her cloak's hood up over her head and leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll see you there, but if you get an attack of sense and decide to stay away..."
"I'm not staying away..." she said with more conviction than she felt as he looked at her, his face serious for the first time that night.
"Fine, then just in case I don't get to talk to you beforehand...don't do anything stupid. That's my job. If things get too...just too much, leave. Okay? Look after yourself. I don't care what else is happening in there - you have to leave if it gets too crazy. Promise me, Angelina. Promise."
She didn't know if it was the intensity of the way he was looking at her, or the seriousness of his tone, but suddenly she felt scared as the full impact of what they were about to do seemed to dawn on her. She tried to bite down on it, and ignore it but seeing him like that made her wish, more than anything, that none of them had to go tonight.
"I will," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "You too. Don't do anything stupid - just...don't get hurt."
He nodded and brushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed her, softly this time, which immediately settled the emotions that she was worried were going to spin out of control. "You know, I'm kinda wishing that we had done this about two hours ago..."
"Me too," she muttered as she brought her hand up to his face. "I'll keep my calendar free tonight though if you're not too busy. I've got '7pm - fight You Know Who and minions to the Death', but after that, I'm all yours..."
He laughed, and she let out a breath as a familiar smile broke out on his face and at once she felt at ease again. "Okay, it's a date. You and me and a portkey anywhere you want that has a bed, food, alcohol and has no links to anything remotely Dark wizardy. We can stay in bed for three days, eating, celebrating, sleeping and whatever else two consenting adults might get up to in such a situation," he leant in suggestively and nudged her back towards the wall.
"Considering the last time we tried that," she began as he started to kiss her neck. "You got us flung out the hotel for cursing the room service we might need to adjust those plans..." she sighed as his hands found the inside of her cloak.
"One time," he chuckled as he lifted his head to meet her gaze, only for her to reach over and pull his lips against hers as he continued to talk between kisses whilst she locked the fingers of his free hand with hers. "He deserved it - he was definitely too...attentive. I don't mind guys showing an interest...but he could, at least, have had the... decency to wait until I wasn't...in the room. But, just to remove any lingering...apprehension - I promise, I'll be good this time."
"Well, not too good hopefully," she whispered as she met his eyes. He raised an eyebrow and she could see the dangerous glint in his eyes. No words were exchanged, and she could only moisten her lips in anticipation as he kept her pinned against the wall. He leant in close, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers as she raised her leg and brushed it up against his. He grinned as he crushed her lips with his and she could only giggle in response as she kissed him back. His hand moved around her back, and then lower whilst hers found a way under his robes at the chest. God, she hoped that George didn't show up anytime soon...
It was then that there was a loud shrill from the timer that was on the table. They both cursed as they broke apart reluctantly, Fred took it one step further and literally cursed the offending timer until its innards were sprawled over the floor, like metallic confetti.
"Dammit!" She looked down at her watch almost accusingly, as though it was its fault for the interruption. "Stupid portkeys! I cannot wait to be able to directly apparate again instead of being dictated to by stupid timers. I need to go or else I won't apparate in time to get the damn portkey," she muttered. "Two hours earlier..."
He ran his hand through his hair as he grinned at her as she tried to readjust her cloak, and her robes. "Next time, I promise I'll time these things better..."
She could only raise an eyebrow and laugh as she walked over and kissed him goodbye. "Yeah well, I'll let you make it up to me, Weasley. I'll see you at the castle later."
"I'll see you there. Say hi to Katie for me," he said before adding as an afterthought as he followed her out the door. "And say hello to the lovely Oliver as well..."
She nodded and headed down the path to where she was able to apparate from before he called over towards her. "Oi, Angelina? Did you only put me off until after the fight so that you and Oliver could get it on without the guilt?"
She laughed. "It wasn't, but now that you mention it, it is a happy bonus...and it would be decent payback for the Veela flirting I had to witness at the wedding."
"I was just being friendly!" He shouted with a laugh. "Okay, maybe, in hindsight, I can understand why it would look a bit bad - but, come on, I'm only human...!"
She raised her eyebrow before shaking her head and walking away. "You should ask your brother what it feels like to lose a bit of his anatomy to a curse, because the 'I'm only human' excuse carries that penalty in future, only it won't be an ear that you lose..."
"See, I wouldn't believe most people when they said that, but with you...I definitely buy it," he grinned as he followed her to the door to see her off. "See you later, Angelina..."
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And that was it. The last real conversation they had and she hadn't even told him that she loved him or anything important before she left - those things being unsaid were going to really hurt once this all felt real, she thought.. She closed her eyes and tried to shut it out. She needed to forget about that - the past was gone and couldn't be changed and she needed to concentrate on what was happening right now.
She looked around and saw injured people everywhere. Her first instinct would have been to run over and help them, but it seemed so surreal that she wasn't even entirely sure if it was real or happening in her own head. She looked down at her own body and saw that her left arm was badly cut and was oozing blood, her hip had a deep slice on it that made it painful to put any sort of weight on her left side and, although she couldn't be certain, it sure felt like she had more than one broken rib. She took her non injured hand and pressed her finger into the bloody wound of her left arm. It just didn't seem real, and although she was aware that she was in physical pain, it just didn't seem to register beyond that. She let out a small laugh, almost in morbid fascination as she watched the blood ooze out the wound quicker as she applied the pressure to the gash and even though it hurt, she didn't flinch or make any effort to stop. It was just that unnatural to feel so detached to her own body and at that moment she almost liked the sureality of it all.
It was like she would wake up and it would have been a dream. Maybe she had been cursed and this was happening in her head. Maybe this was her having a nightmare. Maybe this was all some elaborate joke...
"Please don't be dead..."
She was in the middle of repeating it when someone with red hair ran past her.
"Fre..." She stopped herself. She knew it wasn't him. She took a slow, painful breath and forced herself to stop and start again. "Ge...George?"
The figure who was running stopped and turned around. "Angelina..."
She bit her lip and tried to form words without crying, but seeing his red, swollen eyes, usually so much like Fred's set her off. She wiped the tears impatiently - she would not cry here. "Are...are you okay?"
It was a weak question, and she wanted to slap herself for asking something so stupid. How could anyone be okay?
She was about to take back the question when she noticed his lower lip tremble slightly before he bit down on it hard and shook his head. His voice was barely a whisper. "Fred..."
She nodded her head and wiped her eyes again. "I know..."
"He's...I...I don't...they kil...I..." he paused, took a deep, shaky breath and tried to find the words, pain etched all over his face and his voice pitched as he seemed to force the words out, slowly. "I...I don't know what I'm supposed to do now..."
She noticed that he was trying to stop from crying and felt another pang of realisation that this was really happening. It wasn't a dream, or a joke, or a hallucination. This was George - George who never got upset, who never got angry and who never, ever cried. Yet here he was, fighting tears, upset and hurting because this wasn't a dream. They wouldn't wake up from this. This was real.
She walked closer to him and reached out her trembling hand towards him, in an effort to provide some sort of shallow comfort. "You...you should be with your family, George."
He clasped her hand and shook his head. "They don't...they don't understand. We need to fix this, Angelina. We're wizards. We can fix this."
"I don't think we can..." she whispered, wishing she could avoid looking at his face. It was too difficult to look at his face and not want to see Fred.
"I'll find a time-turner, or...or...a spell, or something. We have to. He can't be gone. I can't...we're...always, and he can't be dead. We have plans and I don't work alone, Angelina..." he almost pleaded with her to understand and she could only nod her head as he continued, sounding more determined. "I'll get the time-turner and make sure he doesn't come - I'll fix this. They," he gestured towards his family. "They don't understand that I need to fix this. He isn't supposed to die. It doesn't work like that. He can't be dead. Don't worry - I'll fix this. I will."
With that he shrugged her hand off his and walked away. For a split second she let herself believe that he was right, that he would get the time-turner and everything would be fine, but she knew, as well as he did, that he wouldn't find the time-turner and that sooner or later it would sink into him that they couldn't 'fix' this. Fred was gone. He was gone and he wasn't coming back. Ever.
She choked back a sob as the realisation fully hit her. He was really dead, and she was really standing in Hogwarts bleeding, bruised and alone. A wave of nausea washed over her as she brought a hand up to her eyes - the tight pulling in her chest masking the pain of her side and hip. She thought about running, of finding a broom, or a portkey or anything to get her as far away from here as she could get. She thought of finding a Death Eater and cursing them until they felt a fraction of the pain she was feeling, she even thought about taking a jump out the Astronomy tower, to see if that would hurt less than what she was feeling just now. She contemplated all of those but instead she turned around, almost without thinking, and began to walk over towards the place where the Weasley's were gathered in the Great Hall. Almost immediately she wanted to turn back but something made her keep going and deep down she knew that she would have to face it eventually - avoiding it wasn't going to change anything.
She almost ran off as she limped towards the Weasley family, but she forced herself to look at them all, silently appraising their injuries to make sure that they were all right because that's what Fred would have wanted. She hadn't really spent a lot of time with most of them - summer visits, arriving for dinners and the occasional party or Quidditch game aside. She had invited Arthur & Molly for dinner a few times along with her own parents, but something always seemed to get in the way - it was just what happened when there was a war on and you were on the wrong side though. It always seemed like there would be so much time for spending time with each other's families in the future, that there never seemed to be any need to rush on her or Fred's part to speed up the process which they knew irritated both sets of parents especially as the opportunities for parental interference was kept at a minimum because of it. She almost smiled as she remembered Fred telling her how Molly had asked him to invite Angelina to stay at the Burrow the summer after they left school, only for the invite to have been rescinded when Fred indicated that George would have to move into another room in that case. It had taken a month for Molly to stop firing her dirty looks for corrupting her son, which Fred seemed to find extremely amusing.
Now though, Angelina looked on the missed invitations, and the 'it's okay, it'll happen eventually' mentality they had with a lot of regret. If she had spent more time with them then maybe she would have known the right things to say and do to help them through this.
Maybe then they would have known the right things to say and do to help her as well.
Unable to put off looking at Fred any longer, she shared a look with his mother before turning her attention to the body on the floor. For a second she thought she was imagining it - he didn't look dead after all. There wasn't really anything on him that would have told you he was dead - a few burns and scrapes but nothing that anyone else didn't have. In fact, if you looked at him you would have sworn that he was sleeping. She almost laughed - dead people should look dead. It would have been easier if there was a gaping hole in his chest or something, but looking at him like that it didn't seem like there was any reason a medi-witch couldn't cure him.
"Angelina," Mr Weasley's voice said from beside his wife. "We're really sorry. We know how much you two..."
She nodded her head, but didn't raise her gaze as she continued to stare at him, looking for a sign that would explain why he wasn't coming back. She looked down to his hands, the hands that had wielded Beater sticks with such aggression, or had wielded a wand with such precision, or that had stroked her skin just hours earlier with such gentleness. There was nothing on his hands that said why he should be dead. She lifted her gaze up, past the scorch marks on his robes towards his face. Her gaze lingered on his lips, a faint smile still traced on them as though he was finding the whole situation amusing. Typical Fred...
"You have to admit, it's kinda funny that he would go and get himself killed a couple of hours before the stupid war ends," she whispered, still looking at the expression on his face. "I mean, it's just so...so stupid. I can't believe he was that stupid. People don't marry stupid people who get themselves killed two hours before the war ends. Idiot."
She felt the back of her throat burning and felt her eyes water again, but as she looked at his face she couldn't stop the laughter escaping from her. It really was ridiculous. How the hell can he be alive, and be joking with her and then be lying there, dead with a smile on his face? Didn't God, or whoever, get the script? The war was over! There was supposed to be a happy ending for everyone now. That was what everyone had wished for - get rid of Voldemort and the stupid world will be a better place! Well, she thought, Voldemort was gone and all she knew was that her stupid, idiotic boyfriend who had been so cocky, and so...so confident was lying on a stone floor dead and, he was smiling about it. Funny. Really, really funny - almost fitting for Fred. He would have found it hilarious if he had been there, she was sure...
She didn't even realise she was laughing, or that she was crying until she heard herself. She would have normally felt embarrassed but it was taking all her control to stay on her feet, never mind anything else. Her laughter quickly subsided to be replaced by raking sobs that not only confirmed that she had broken her ribs, but also tightened her chest so much that she was sure she might pass out any second due to a lack of oxygen. The pain was more than she had ever faced in her life. She wiped her eyes furiously, trying in vain to hide her tears from his family. She never wanted to be weak like this in front of them.
"I'm sorry...it's just...this...this shouldn't have happened. This is supposed to be such a happy day and now it's just not...I just... I'm so sorry..."
She avoided looking at them as she turned around and walked away, offering another apology as she made her retreat. She could hear them call after her, but she couldn't formulate thoughts, let alone words so how could she explain how she was feeling to them?
As soon as she was out of the Great Hall she began running, ignoring the knifing pain in her hip with every shortened, painful stride as she tried to find somewhere, anywhere where she could think. She ran past bloodied students, past dead bodies, past rubble, past people, old and young, crying over someone they'd lost, past bickering ghosts, past bloodstains, and scorch marks and destroyed paintings and various other signs of the fighting. She ran until she found a quiet spot, behind a statue and under a staircase and sank down and put her head in her hands, trying to work out how this happened. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
She had imagined a hundred scenarios over the past few years about how things would be after Voldemort was gone. They had sat down and imagined the scenarios together - where she would be a world class Chaser, where he and George would be unbelievable successful, where they were going to be happy, and successful, and healthy and alive. None of the scenarios they had come up with had ever been like this. None of them ended with him being dead and her being alone.
Yet here she was, sitting against a wall by herself. She hated crying in public - it was something that she had never been comfortable with. Yet she was doing it. She was crying and he was lying in the Great Hall, his body already cold, and life, for everyone else, already continuing.
She'd never get to talk to him, to fight with him, to laugh, or smile, or kiss him again. She wouldn't be able to tell him to walk in front of the Knight Bus, and he wouldn't be able to tease her about going to chase Veelas. It was over, and as much as she wanted to believe that she wouldn't think of him and cry, every time she thought of him she realised that little bit more how much she'd miss him.
He was supposed to be marrying her, they were supposed to have little Gryffindor demi-Gods who would be world class Quidditch players and they were supposed to get old together.
Yet now it was all over. The war was won, it would be called the happiest day in history by some people and there were people cheering all over the castle already. It was everything they had ever hoped for...the day that would go down in history, the day that the wizarding world was free.
She couldn't help but think how meaningless it all seemed and how she should have been more careful about what she wished for because, sitting here, like this she realised that none of the other stuff mattered to her at all. The war was over - whoo-hoo! Happiest day in history? Sure - for some. For those who didn't know better. For those who didn't know what it had cost.
For her though?
She wanted to feel proud, to feel happy that everything was going to be better, but all she could think about was the fact that she would never see him again, or speak to him, or do any of the things they planned to do. She knew it was selfish, and short sighted and everything else but people could cheer, and laugh, and celebrate and that was fine, but no one, no one could convince her that the world was a better place without him in it. No one could tell her that the victory was worth that price. And no one could honestly say that life was better today, because it wasn't. He was gone and he was never coming back and that was the only thing that mattered to her.
-The End-
