A/N This story was inspired by "Kiss From A Rose" by Chrys-Moony-Marauder, so thank you for the inspiration. Also, obviously, I claim no characters or canon as my own. Trying out a new pairing in this fic, so we'll see how it goes. Hopefully I won't get off topic like I usually do.
He blinked back the tears that threatened to drip out of his eyes. He came here too often, he needed to get away, but the gravestone filled him with guilt and grief, forcing him to keep returning.
He wanted to get on with his life, but he remained with his nose pressed into the grass and the flowers falling out of his hand.
He wanted to be proud of his brother who died saving them all. But he couldn't feel anything but anger that he was incomplete, that there was a half, and maybe more, missing from him.
A large piece of him that died, but not heroically. He was not a hero, he was simply the survivor, and that would never be good enough.
George heard his mother calling him for breakfast, but he didn't hear what she said. Instead he heard the break in her voice that came from addressing only half of what used to exist.
Even though he was upstairs and she was in the kitchen, he heard, or perhaps imagined, the name that followed his own, barely a whisper. He remained with his head buried under numerous pillows, and hoped he was suffocating, but it felt more like he was drowning.
A large, damp patch on his pillow was evidence enough that he had been having the dreams, but he couldn't remember them. He never could.
It was an unfortunate nightly occurrence that left him awake and gasping for breath, but for the life of him trying to remember the freckled face that he knew was in his dream.
Nobody quite knew what it was like, although his family liked to pretend they knew what he was going through.
He knew he should be nicer, and appreciative of his parents and siblings that were still alive, appreciative that they were taking time out of their own grievance to comfort him, for they had noticed, if nothing else, that his loss was more infinite than all of theirs combined.
The first day he saw her was at the shop, when she stumbled in with a windswept look on her face, the buttons on her dress mismatched, showing the slightest hint of what could be.
He would have continued his gaze over her body had he not noticed the panic in her eyes, a shadow he had never seen on her face before. He knew immediately that something was wrong, that something had happened.
His worries were confirmed when she flew into his arms, taking no notice of the numerous boxes in his arms, or of the shocked and pleased look on his face.
Was she confused as to whom he was? Did his face remind her all too much of the one who was supposed to be her comfort?
These thoughts were nullified when she wrapped her arms around him and began to whimper. He reveled for a few moments in the glory of her body pressed against his, but then stepped back, remembering his concern.
"What's wrong, Angelina?" He would have been more worried had he not been wondering where she had been for the last three years. Since they had left Hogwarts she had not appeared.
More specifically, she had not been seen since Fred's death. A small part of him, the one that didn't feel particularly guilty, was wondering if he had a chance now, now that he was gone and she was open.
"It was…my fault…I walked into Knockturn Alley by accident and Montague saw me. He tried to…to…" At this point she started crying completely, and George could guess what had happened.
He wrapped himself around her once again until her tears dissolved into dry sobs, and finally she looked up and seemed to realize that she was hugging the twin brother of her dead boyfriend. She gasped and pulled away.
"I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry, I should really be going now." He knew it had been too much to hope she had come to the shop on purpose, but his heart still sank upon her words. He released her and she vanished as quickly as she had appeared.
The whole encounter had been a little too surprising for George, and he needed time to think about what had happened. He closed up the shop for the day, and Apparated back to the flat.
Once at home, he began to think about the meeting. Angelina had looked…different. She was still the same on the outside, beautiful and courageous, but something about her seemed weaker, less stable.
The Angelina he had known in his school days wouldn't have been bothered by an encounter with Montague. She would have more likely punched him in the face and walked away confidently.
The five minutes she had spent in the shop had been enough to let him know that something was not right within her. Something had not healed.
George promptly forgot about his thoughts on Angelina the next morning. The only thing on his mind was the face that had again appeared in his dream.
It had been clearer this time, and although George knew he could see his twin's face any time he wanted just by looking in the mirror, something about the dreams made it seem more real, and more present.
And every night it was the same. The moment he reached out to touch the face that resembled his own, with the obvious difference of having two ears rather than one, the face vanished, and he was left with his eyes open and his arm outstretched, reaching for nothingness.
He had taken to sleeping in his own flat above the shop, rather than attempting to keep up the façade of normality he showed to his family.
Dinner was torture every night, when the mother Weasley insisted on everyone eating together, and laughing and chatting as if there was not a ghost amongst them.
He paid his daily visit to the grave of his other half after breakfast, preferring the chill of the morning air to the sultry heat of the afternoon.
The briskness in the wind helped to clear his head of all thoughts, and he managed to sit on the grass next to the gravestone and stare off into space, without breaking into tears.
The next time George thought about Angelina was three days later, when he met Katie Bell. Katie had stopped by the shop to pick up a present for her brother, and immediately started chatting with George.
George, who was not in the chatting mood, nodded politely at her until he heard Angelina's name, for which his ears—or ear—seemed to be listening.
"What about Johnson?" He asked sharply, taking Bell by surprise.
"Nothing, I just said she's back in town after her vacation—if you can call three years a vacation—in France. Why so interested?" She looked more curious about this than about anything George had said in the conversation so far, even when he had talked about his crazy family.
"Oh yeah, I saw her the other day. She ran in here after being harassed by Montague, but then she left as soon as…I dunno, I guess when she realized…who I was." Or who he wasn't, he silently thought to himself.
"She's going through a rough patch right now. Has been for the last few years, I don't know what's gone wrong. She seems to be restless, but at the same time looking for routine, or comfort. Can't really blame her, I suppose. I mean, after what she went through—" Katie stopped abruptly, eyes wide when she realized what she had said, and to whom she had said it. She looked at George apologetically.
Desperate to take the conversation elsewhere, George started talking about the shop, and the success of business. Katie gratefully pounced on the change in subject, and after a few minutes, said she had to leave, apologizing profusely.
After she had left, George sat behind the counter, thankful for the lack of customers that day. He thought about Angelina, and how right she had felt, pressed up against him in a hug. He thought about why they had never happened, but then realized he had just been too late.
He could think of some other things he had been too late for.
A/N The first chapter of a new fic always makes me happy. This was pretty long too, as far as my chapters go. Anyways, please please please review, you better if you want to see another chapter. Check my profile page as well for developments in other stories, that's where I'll inform you of progress. Thanks in advance for reviewing, and if you don't, then you don't deserve the next chapter. sob I work so hard for you guys!
xx.death.by.chocolatexx