Angie was a cool girlfriend. She made dirty jokes, could punch harder than George could (the wimp), and never got offended when he talked about other girls with me. She wasn't giggly or annoying or clingy - in fact, she was the polar opposite of Lavender Brown. She was damn good at Quidditch and still managed to look drop-dead gorgeous in a dress - or in anything, really. She gave George and I our space, and never demanded that I leave the room when she wanted to talk - I knew when give them "alone time," anyway - because she knew we had no secrets. She only scolded us minimally about our pranks. She flat up refused to get involved in our joke shop, which is the mark of a good woman.
We were pretty tight, too, Angie and I, and she was always able to tell the two of us apart. Whenever we were at a bar, she was almost a better wingman than George, mostly because she could weed out the girls that only wanted to sleep with both of us (pervs).
Merlin, George was so in love with that girl. I could always tell when he was thinking about her - which happened more than one might think - because he got this sick, lovey-dovey look in his eyes and started to drool (okay, no, not really).
I always told him that if he didn't marry her I would, and then he would get all red and tell me to sod off.
They were made for each other, you know?
I always thought how hard it would be on everyone when he moved out.
So, in a way, I was happy for them, as I lingered in the space between life and death.
That very last thought I had before I was pulled away into the abyss was that George had better marry that girl.
For the Battleship Challenge: Platonic Fred/Angelina; War of the Elemental Song Quotes Competition: DARKNESS: Hello, darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again. -Simon & Garfunkel, "The Sound of Silence"; Interesting Words Challenge: Apanthropinization.