Hey, little plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone!

Disclaimer: I don't owe any of this besides the story. Don't bother sueing.

"I still want more."

Those words will echo in my ears forever. Worse than anything I could ever imagine, those four words ruined my life.

…

"Oh Fred, I'm so happy for you and Lavender! You make such a handsome couple…"

Fred rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as Molly cooed over the newly engaged pair. He held the pretty blonde tightly to his side as she happily showed off the engagement ring he'd bought her to his collected family and friends at The Burrow. Ginny and Hermione tittered excitedly the way girls do, and Ron, Harry, Bill, and Charlie alternated slapping him on the back and offering up good-natured ribbing.

Out of everyone that knew of the engagement, though, there was one who felt less than thrilled at the prospect. And he also felt the most qualified to object. He was his twin, for Merlin's sake.

When Fred was planning on asking his girlfriend of two years to marry him, George had tried his best to politely dissuade his brother from making what he thought was a terrible choice. "I just don't think-"

"George!" Fred snapped, "I've heard your argument a thousand times already! You 'just don't think we're right together'. I know! But it's been two years, and Lavender won't wait around for me forever. Besides, what's wrong with her? She's pretty, clever, and a damn good shag if I say so myself."

His crooked Weasley smile was wasted on his stony-faced twin. "She's docile. She follows you like a puppy."

"And what's wrong with that, dear brother?"

"Do you even respect her?"

"What does respect have to do with anything?"

"How can you love someone without respecting them?"

Fred was momentarily speechless. "Well, she loves me. That will have to do for now. Besides, the shop's doing well, and I can afford to have a family of my own now. So why not?"

George shook his head dejectedly. "I don't know. It just doesn't feel right. She's not the one for you."

"Then who is?"

A brief moment of eye contact, and a lifetime of twin-intuition speechlessly conveyed the answer from one brother to the other. "No, brother. I'm sorry, but that was the past. Please…just be happy for Lavender and me. Now, do you think she'll want the gold ring, or the platinum with the smaller stone?"

…

Angelina sat at the table in her kitchen eating a leisurely breakfast and browsing the Daily Prophet when the familiar tap of a beak on her windowpane signaled a post owl's arrival. She picked up her wand from beside her fork and flicked it in the general direction of the window, opening it and allowing the bird access.

Landing on the table, it extended the leg bearing the note while scanning the table for some food. Eyebrow raised, she untied the note and offered the creature the remains of her toast. It accepted, and with a quick ruffle of its feathers, took off out the window once more.

The moment she unrolled the parchment, she recognized the handwriting in George's favorite lime-green ink.


Morning, Angel—


I'll be in the shop all day today doing inventory. Just come in the back way since WWW is closed today. See you soon.


--George


P.S. – If you don't know what I'm talking about, page 7 of the Prophet.

Angelina looked up from the note, brow furrowed, at the Daily Prophet opened to page six. She slowly reached out to the paper and turned it over, her eyes glued to the picture beneath the bolded heading: "Joke Shop Proprietor to Marry Hogwarts Sweetheart". Without a second thought, she apparated to Diagon Alley.

…

The evening breeze made quick work of Angelina's sleek and straightened hair, making her outward appearance more closely resemble the tumultuous mix of emotions wrestling inside of her. She had no idea what she was going to finally say to him, or why she had waited until the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding to do so. But she had asked to speak with him privately, and despite her urges to back out, she could see his fiery red hair outlined in the moonlight as he approached her.

"Hey, Angie. What's up? The guys and I are about to get going…bachelor's party and whatnot." His smile quickly faded. "You alright?"

Angelina bit her lip. It would all be better once she got this off her chest, right? "Fred..."

"Wait, does this have anything to do with George? Because I told him not to get involved. Why doesn't he just listen to me?"

"No! It's not him. It's about…umm…us."

Fred's attention was entirely on Angelina now. "Angie, this is a really bad time to bring this up. Besides, what do you mean, 'us'? We've been friends for ages."

"I know, but that's the thing. I just wanted to tell you. Before tomorrow…"

"Wait," Fred interjected quickly, grabbing Angelina by the shoulders, "whatever you're about to say, please don't say it-"

"-Fred I love you."

Too late. She said it. No chance to take it back.

I looked down at her, speechless. She looked…smaller than I'd ever seen her. And perhaps a little scared, too? But she couldn't have been as scared as I was, just then. The winds stopped, killing my hopes that they would just blow away what she'd said so things could be like they were five minutes ago.

"Angelina, why? Why now? Why would you…" I sounded angrier than I meant to be. She shivered, and I knew it wasn't from the cold. I think I knew I was in trouble when I realized all I wanted to do was take her into my arms and comfort her. My fingers twitched, but I defeated my urges and stuck my hands in my pockets, apologizing.

"No, I'm sorry, Fred. I shouldn't have done this. What a selfish thing of me." She hesitated, and her countenance suddenly changed back into the old Angelina. The one I knew and lov-

"Actually, I'm not sorry. Not at all. Your "Hogwarts Sweetheart"? You didn't even know she existed until after we graduated! She doesn't know you. Not like I do. She may love you, but she doesn't know who you really are beneath the pranks and cockiness. Doesn't that bother you?"

I couldn't help my stubbornness at this point. She sounded just like George. "And what if it doesn't, Johnson?"

"Then maybe I made a mistake coming here, Fred."

I turned my back on her, still seething. "Maybe you did."

My stomach knotted as I felt her forehead resting between my shoulder blades. I easily gave in as her hands wriggled around my waist, hugging me in that same old backwards embrace from school. Hesitantly, I turned around to face her. Before getting a chance to say anything, though, she leaned up and lightly places her lips on mine. Lips I'd written off as unattainable many years ago.

I didn't push her away like I should have. I think she expected me to as well. My hands fumbled from my pockets, burying themselves into her hair as I deepened the long-overdue kiss.

Still a little dazed, but happy, I pulled away slightly. "I've loved you for the longest, Angie."

She smiled so genuinely it made my stomach flutter. I kissed her again. "But, what now?"

Her quiet tone brought me quickly back to reality. It was still the night before my wedding. "Well, I'll have to tell Lavender, obviously. The wedding will be off…but then…"

I looked down at Angelina and smirked. "Then again, 'Joke Shop Proprietor Marries Hogwarts Sweetheart' did have such a nice ring to it. Perhaps we can change some of the details…like the bride…and continue on with the ceremony?"

I felt her stiffen in my arms. "But Fred…tomorrow? I don't…it's so soon!"

"Nah Angie," I tried to reassure her, "we've known each other for so long. I love you, you love me. Why wait?"

My chest tightened when I saw the tears in her eyes. I could see the word "no" forming on her lips, and I shook my head trying to will it from her mouth. "A family, a house. That's what you want, right?"

I nodded. What else could I do? "Isn't that what you want too?"

"Not yet…not now. I'm so young. So are you! To settle down, and give up everything you've been dreaming of for your life…"

"But that's just it!" I couldn't hide the panic in my voice any longer. "I always wanted my own joke shop. And I have it! And now, all that's left is to start a family with the woman I love."

"Fred," She looked up at me with those deep brown eyes, and broke my heart with four little words, "I still want more."

"I want to travel all over the world. I want to play for the Welsh Side Quidditch team for the World Cup. I'm on the Magpies' reserve squad…but I want to be a starter. I want little kids to run up to me after games and tell me I'm their hero!

Fred, you've known about my dreams since we were first years. And I know you've gotten everything you wanted out of life so far. But I'm just not ready to give up on the rest of my dreams, even if it is to be with you. I'm sorry."

"Angel," I grabbed both her hands in my own, desperate, "I'm not asking you to give up your life to be with me. I can wait."

"But for how long? I know you, Fred. You'll get restless, and you'll resent me, and then where will we be? I love you, but we really are just in different places right now."

I winced. She was right, but I hated it. "Then what now? Can you really expect me to walk down that aisle tomorrow and pledge the rest of my life to Lavender? What do you want me to do?"

I watched her think for a moment, and I could almost see the physical pain her next words were going to cause her. "Yes, that's exactly what I expect you to do. She loves you, and I think if you work a little harder to let her in, she'll understand you too. And understanding will breed respect. Respect will turn to love someday. You'll be happy with her. And I'll be happy for the both of you."

She hung her head, and I watched her fight tears. "Bullshit, Angie."

She looked up surprised at me, the moonlight reflecting off her tear-streaked cheeks. "Stop trying to be the bigger man. I know it will hurt you when you see us together. And I know it'll hurt me whenever I hear about you with another man. Let's not kid ourselves. But if this is what you want, tell me now."

I heard the sounds of my mates calling out for me a few meters away. "Time's up, Angie. What do you want me to do?"

The boys headed toward us, and I watched Angelina breathlessly for her final answer.

…

It's two years later, and windy nights still remind me of her. Lavender is pregnant with our second child, a girl. I haven't told Lav, but I want to name her Angelina. Of course, she probably won't agree.

Every now and then, I read blurbs about Angie in the gossip columns: some dashing wizard she's been spotted around town with. And true to my word, it hurts every time I see a photo of her and him, smiling that lover's smile that was mine once, for a moment.

She's getting everything she always wanted. I can't think of much else on her list. She has a career, adventures, and fame. I know at some point she'll have to start adding new things to her list, because when she runs out, all she'll have left will be love and a family. And it will hurt her to see me, happy and truly in love, and I won't be able to comfort her.

But she was right: I couldn't wait two years for her, but I would have tried. I'm happy now, but I sometimes stay awake at night, listening to the rustle of the wind through the leaves; and I watch Lavender and baby Archie sleep, and I curse myself because I realize that I still want more too.