Hey. This is my first Harry Potter fic, and the first fanfiction I've written in about a year. It's a challenge piece, for EvylinDevilin's letter challenge, in which you had to pick 2 characters, and involve reading/writing a letter. My characters were Angelina Johnson and Ginny Weasley. It's going to be a multi chapter fic - although I have no idea how long as yet. The title has already been changed once, and it is set to change again because I'm still not completely happy with it. I'll try to update soon.

Please read; and I'd love it if you could leave me a review.

Summary: Set a year after the final battle; Angelina isn't coping with the death of her boyfriend, and George is coping even less with the loss of his twin brother. When the two meet again, can this be what they need to heal their hearts? Angelina/George. Angelina/Fred (only flashbacks) Rated T.

Disclaimer: Sadly, Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me. They are the property of the wonderful Jk Rowling. I am however borrowing them for my own (and yours I hope) enjoyment. They will be returned primarily unhurt, and possibly happier ^^

As The Petals Fall

Chapter One

It was nearing midnight on the eve of the one year anniversary of Fred's death, and Angelina Johnson was still awake. She sat at the wooden desk in the corner of her room, quill scratching furiously across her parchment, aided by a single lantern on the corner of her desk. A light tapping at the window made her look up, and she saw a tiny owl bobbing up and down in the night. She pulled open the window and he landed on her arm. Who on earth would be writing to her at this time of night? Curiously she relieved the brown owl of his message, and uncurled it.

'Hi Angelina,

It's Ginny Weasley. No doubt you'll be surprised to hear from me. We haven't seen each other since Fred's death, a year ago tomorrow.' Angelina paused, a surge of irritation at her words. Did Ginny really think she'd have forgotten? She continued to read, 'I hope you're doing okay and I'm just writing to let you know we're having a memorial service and buffet tomorrow at The Burrow, for everyone who knew and loved him most. You were one of the people closest to him before that final battle, and you should be there. George said he'd owl you about it a couple of days ago, but I doubt he did. Since Fred – since that night he just hasn't been the same; he barely speaks these days, and explosions are very few and far between.

The service starts at 4pm, and we'll hopefully see you then.

Ginny,'

Angelina put the letter down on top of her papers. She and Ginny had never been what you'd call, good friends – known through her replacement as seeker during Harry's brief expulsion from the team in her last year – and through Fred and George. Her Fred…

They'd always been close, Angelina and the twins, right from starting school together and she'd been one of the very few that could tell them apart – something even their own mother struggled to do. As they'd grown up, she'd become closer to Fred, leading up to him finally inviting her to the Yule Ball. They'd dated for some time after that, but it wasn't common knowledge, although she had spent many a summer day at The Burrow. Their parting had happened, just after she graduated from Hogwarts. It didn't work juggling a career and a relationship, they both agreed; although privately Angelina felt they could have made it work. The next time they saw each other was in the Room of Requirement before the fighting ensued. Their last conversation was something she'd remember for the rest of her life.

"Oi, Johnson," Fred called, still with a note of humour to his tone, in spite of the dire situation they were facing.

Angelina gave him a small smile, as he weaved his way over to her. "Nice to see you haven't changed much," she teased. "How've you been?"

"Never mind that," Fred said, his expression changing, "I need to talk to you Ange."

She looked around the room, at her friends, standing anxiously in groups. "You mean now? Because in case you haven't noticed, we do have a war to fight."

"Which is why it's got to be now," he said seriously, pulling her by the arm into a corner. There was an awkward moment of silence.

Angelina eyed him curiously. "Are you going to tell me what this is abo–" He cut her off, kissing her hard on the mouth. Her eyes widened, and suddenly she was kissing him back like she'd never kissed anyone before; in that one moment she wished they could stay locked together for all eternity.

All too soon the kiss was over, Angelina couldn't find the words to say, she just stared at him as if he'd grown another head. He shrugged, "I'm living for the moment," he explained, still serious. "We don't know what's going to happen out there, and I just want you to know that – well, that, I, Fred Weasley, love you, Angelina Johnson, and after this is over, we can be together again – if you'll have me that is."

Her heart swelled, and her eyes brimmed over with tears, "I love you Fred," she whispered, resting her head against him.

George interrupted their moment, "We're all meeting in the Great Hall to evacuate the younger students and get ready to fight" he informed them. Angelina paled beneath her dark complexion.

Fred nodded, "right you are Forge!" He turned to them both, "I guess this is it." He spoke seriously. "Let's do this!"

She remembered the battle, like it was just yesterday; from feeling the old DA coin heat up in her pocket, to apparating into Hogsmeade to fight. The sheer terror that coursed through her veins, hearing Voldemort's voice resounding through the castle was something she'd never forget, being shoved roughly to the ground to avoid being hit with a section of stone wall and dodging the red and green jets of light, aimed to kill.

The bodies, of Death Eaters and her fellow fighters alike, flew past her as she fired off several spells in quick succession. Out of the corner of one eye, she saw a green jet, hit Fred directly in the chest; he staggered for a moment, before falling to the ground where he stood. She'd screamed into the din, unable to make herself heard, as she ran in his direction, narrowly missing death herself. The last she remembered of the fight was being sent flying, hitting a wall on the other side of the room and slumping to the ground. She woke up six days later in what was left of the Hospital Wing.

Tears spilled from Angelina's eyes as she recalled waking up from being unconscious; at first she'd had no recollection of the fighting or Fred dying, but as she began to recover her memories came flooding back. By the end of July any physical injuries had healed, leaving only invisible scars etched deep into her heart.

Ginny's owl still bobbed merrily in midair, waiting for the girl's response. Angelina picked up her quill and a scrap of parchment.

'Hi Ginny,

I've had better times, to be perfectly honest with you. Thank you for your concern though… and thank you for the invitation. I'll be there – maybe it'll finally give me the closure I've been searching for this last year.

I'll see you all at 4 tomorrow.

From Angelina'

She carefully folded the letter up and with great difficulty – the owl wouldn't stop moving – managed to tie the letter to him, before opening the window and sending him back out in the darkness. Shivering, she closed the window again; it was surprisingly chilly considering the time of year. Angelina sighed, looking at the clock above her head; midnight had come and gone and she supposed she ought to try and get some sleep in preparation for tomorrow. With a wave of her wand, her work tidied itself away, scrap parchment put itself into the bin, and her lantern went out, throwing the room into complete darkness. Angelina climbed into bed, and her eyes fluttered shut as she fell into a fitful slumber, only to be awoken barely an hour later – thrashing about violently, hot tears trickling down her cheeks, as she relived that same recurring nightmare.