BRRIIINNG! The telephone on the bedside table rang, waking Angelina up from the dream she had been in the middle of. The same dream she'd been having for the last six months: the one where she had chosen George instead of Fred at Hogwarts. Oh well, she thought as glanced at the sleeping form next to her, better late than never. A particularly loud snore came from her lover and she had to stifle a laugh. Even if he sounds like a bloody lawnmower.
BRRIIINNG! The phone rang again and unfortunately for Angelina (who was the epitome of laziness these days), it was on George's side of the bed, which meant that she'd have to climb over him to answer it. After mulling over it for what seemed like forever (in actuality, it was only three seconds: just enough time for a third ring), she finally made a move to pick up the receiver…and immediately found herself on her back with George smirking above her. "Let them leave a message," he growled in what he thought was a sexy way.
Angelina couldn't help laughing. "But what if it's someone important?" she managed to choke out between giggles.
George put on his best hurt look, complete with sad puppy eyes. "But what if it's not? Do you really want to take that chance? What about me? What about my needs?"
"George…"
"I mean, if you're gonna rip out my heart, could you at least use a knife that's dull and rust in colour?"
"Fine, Ryan Key. But could you check the Caller ID? Oh and there's no 'at least' in that line."
"Must you always be so damn anal-retentive?"
"Are you actually expecting an answer to that?"
Finally, a distinctly male voice spoke over the answering machine. "Danisha, you should really get a fireplace because this Muggle machine is a piece of crap. Anyway, it's your brother/lawyer…"
That's as far as Bryant Wesley Johnson Jr. got before his younger sister appeared on the line (after pushing her boyfriend off her, but he didn't need to know that). "How many times have I told you not to call me that, Bryant?" she asked, blatantly ignoring the 'you owe me' look that George was shooting in her direction.
"But I love getting a rise out of you, Ange. Besides, at least Mum gave you a good name. I got stuck with Dad's."
"How is everything?"
"Everything's fine. Kendra's fine and so is Janine," he replied, referring to his wife and nine-year-old daughter.
"Cut the crap, Wes. I know you didn't call me at this ungodly to tell me that everything is 'fine', bro."
"Do you want the good news or the bad first?"
"Which d'you think?"
"The good news is that the community property laws in Britain favour you and you might be able to get alimony."
"Really?" That'd be awesome, she thought.
"Yeah."
"Then what's the bad news?"
"It's three things, actually?"
"THREE?!"
"Three," Wes confirmed. "One, he's trying to block the divorce. He's claiming that he has a sexual addiction and he's in therapy to get over it. His attorney has been harassing me about getting you to go to counseling with him so that you can 'put this nonsense behind you and fix your marriage'."
"Dragonshit!" Angelina swore and George looked at her with concern in his eyes. 'I'll tell you in a minute,' she mouthed. "Who the hell does he think he is, Eric Benét?"
"There's still more."
"What could be worse than that?"
"Even if Fred wasn't blocking the proceedings, most of his money is tied up with his brother's in those joke shops."
Which meant George might end up bankrolling both her alimony and his twin's legal fees. "Do I even want to know what the third thing is?"
"Probably not. It's the worst."
"It couldn't possibly get much worse. Let me have it."
"Well, you asked for it. Due to our parents being who they are and considering what you do for a living…"
"Just say it, will you!"
"You're worth a helluva lot more than he is, so he could ask for spousal support to keep him in the lifestyle he grew accustomed to with you."
Angelina groaned. "What lifestyle? I'm a corporate accountant, not Naomi Campbell! I live in a one-bedroom flat in North London, for Merlin's sake!"
"But your parents are independently wealthy. And your Mum is a Lestrange, if you really want to get technical with it," George added cheekily from his position on the bed. "And don't forget you still play professional Quidditch."
"Shut up. No, not you, Wes. I was talking to someone else."
"I'm not going to touch that with a fifty-foot pole, sis. Anyway, everything I'm telling you are just 'what ifs' right now. So don't worry your pretty little head about it."
"Don't patronise me; I'm a big girl. And I'm not interested in 'what ifs'; I want to know about 'what is'and 'what is gonna be'." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly counted to ten before speaking. "What are our options?"
"Do you want this as your big brother or as your attorney?"
Angelina choked down a moan. Sometimes her brother was beyond infuriating. "Does it make a difference," she asked slowly while trying to keep her temper under control.
"Yes, it does. A big difference, actually," he replied in an even, condescending tone. The one he used when dealing with his Muggle clients in Wales. Even though he was a half-blood, he was still convinced that wizards (and witches) were more intelligent than those of the non-magical persuasion were.
"I want it as you, Bryant Wesley Johnson Jr."
It was Wes's turn to take a deep breath. "Well, you can halt the divorce proceedings…"
"Not going to happen."
"Well, exactly how close are you to his brother?"
I'm sleeping with him and we're going to elope as soon as this divorce is final. "He's one of my best friends. My confidante on Alicia's days off, in fact."
"Uh-huh."
"What the bloody hell do you mean by 'uh-huh'."
"I mean I'd really like to see you take Fred for everything, but since his assets are tied up in those shops…"
"I'm meeting George for breakfast. I'll ask him then." Well, it's not a total lie; we ARE going to eat breakfast together. Eventually. "Is there anything else?"
"Yeah. Mum and Dad are back from their safari and they want to go out for dinner tonight. And Mum said that saying no isn't an option and to bring George with you. Kendra just said that it's at the Connaught Hotel."
"How the hell did she know?"
"Alicia. Must've been one of her days off. You really should find new friends. Bye, sis. See you at eight."
"Damn Ravenclaw arsehole," she muttered as she hung up.
"What's wrong?" George asked from behind her. "You seem tense."
"I'm fine. It's just that my dear brother called me to give me a bunch of bad news." She filled George in while he gave her a massage. "So what do you think I should do? And be honest."
"Do you want this as your boyfriend, Fred's brother, your confidante, or his identical twin?"
Why did the men in her life always say that? "Why does it matter?"
"Because I'm in the middle of this and as a result, I'm privy to stuff that each of you doesn't know about the other. Being both his twin and your boyfriend kind of presents me with a conflict-of-interest."
"Fine. Then I want it as someone who knows how both of our minds work."
"Okay, you asked for it. You are entitled to the house and domestic things like that because he cheated on you constantly, but you don't need alimony—no matter how badly you were hurt—simply because you make more in a week than we do in a month. On top of that, your parents are still independently wealthy and they have millions of Galleons in stocks and bonds, not to mention of a ten-million pound insurance policy that you and Wes will split if they get eaten by a lion or something. Besides, you'll have a controlling interest in 3W if you get half of his half because we'll be married. And that wouldn't be very good if you decide that you want to divorce me since you're also our financial advisor and know more about our money than we do."
"You make some very good points, Mr. Weasley."
"But…"
"There's no but. You're right about everything. Except for divorcing you, anyway. But I don't want the house; there's too many bad memories there."
"So what are you gonna do?"
"Serve him papers and not ask for anything in return." She looked at the time on the phone, which said 10:15. "I've got to get out of here."
George looked at her with a confused look on his face. "I thought we were having breakfast together."
"That was before I remembered I had a meeting with a client at 11:00. And I still have to shower and…" She looked at the raised eyebrow and the grin on her lover's face. "No, you can't join me; I'll never get out otherwise."
"But…"
"The answer is 'no', George." She watched his facial features change and she knew the puppy pout was coming. "Look, baby, I'll make it up to you tonight. Oh and before I forget, we're having dinner with my parents tonight at the Connaught. And it's really posh, so no dragonskin. I need you look at least semi-metrosexualish."
"We?"
"Alicia told my mum about us. And you have to get going to your own flat, anyway. 'Tis a Hogsmeade weekend, my love, and if you don't leave now, Fred'll kill you." And with that, Angelina flounced into the bathroom.
"You really owe me for this, Danisha!"
"Don't call me that!" was the muffled response from the bathroom.
George felt it would be a good idea for him to get out before his girlfriend hexed the hell out of him.
Fred Weasley was happier than he'd been in a long time. Okay, he wasn't, but it was a Hogsmeade weekend so he was busy enough that he could take his mind off his shitty life.
It just didn't seem real. His wife was leaving him. Had left him.
Not that he blamed her; it was entirely his fault. He'd been a bad boyfriend at school and an even worse husband. If he'd been Angelina, he'd have walked out on him too.
He was angry with himself for breaking the heart of the woman he loved.
But he was angrier with her.
She could have stuck it out
, he thought. If she wanted to leave, she should've left six years ago. "I hate her," he muttered aloud.George appeared beside him with a loud pop. "You hate whom?"
"Who d'you think?"
"Celine Dion? I swear Hermione has the worst taste in Muggle music," George replied in a chipper voice.
Fred stared at his brother in disbelief. "George, that might be the most unfunny thing I have ever heard you say."
"Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."
"And someone else needs to learn to get to work on time. You should've been here hours ago; where were you?"
Shagging your soon-to-be ex-wife.
"I was at my girlfriend's place." Fred winced as they watched the last customers leave. "Sorry about that." You don't have any idea how."You shouldn't be. It's not like Angie left me for you." This time George cringed, but Fred didn't notice. "Besides, it's my fault. Only my fault."
George took a deep breath before continuing his half of the conversation. "So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I'm seeing a therapist and doing everything I can to block the divorce." He ran his fingers through his hair. "She won't even talk to me, Forge. There's a restraining order against me at the office and at the Puddlemere stadium. Last I talked to my lawyer, she and Wes were trying to have one put on me for all the stadiums when Puddlemere's playing."
"Damn," George whispered with a shake of his head. But he knew all of this already.
"That's not all. I don't know even know where she's living. Alicia, Lee, and Katie won't tell me, Wes hates my guts, and her parents are on some safari tour of Africa. I've tried Flooing there, but her place isn't on the network…" He looked up at his brother. "What have I done?"
"Do you want…" George started to say before stopping, realising that his twin had no way of knowing that he was still in contact with Angelina. "You're a guy. It's our job to screw things up."
"Yeah, but not things like this. I mean, you'd never do anything like this; Angelina even said so. 'Why can't you be more like George?' is what she said, if you really want to get technical." Fred replayed the words he just spoke in his head and stared at George in disbelief. "You know where she is, don't you?"
"Well, uh, no."
"You always were a bad liar. To me, anyway. So where is she?"
"She doesn't want you to know. You yourself just said that she had restraining orders put on you!"
"Fine. Could you at least tell her that I'm in therapy? That I want to save our marriage? We could if she'd only talk to me."
"She knows and doesn't believe a word of it."
Fred grabbed the front of his twin's shirt. "Make her believe it! I can't lose her; I just can't."
"Fred…"
"Look, I know I fucked up. Royally. But you are my only link to my wife right now; you're the only hope I have of saving my marriage. You. Give me your word that you'll talk to her."
George sighed. He couldn't believe what he was about to say, but… "Fine. I'll talk to her tonight."
"Swear on your twindom. Swear that you'll tell her everything I just told you."
"I swear. Damn! Now let go of me!"
Fred let go of George's shirt and sighed. "Sorry about that. It's just that I love her so much, you know. Not being with her is killing me."
Never seemed to bother you before
, George thought. "Yeah, I…" He didn't get to finish his sentence because just then another influx of Hogwarts students entered the shop and Fred had leapt over the counter to retrieve a Third Year that had fallen through the trapdoor in the middle of aisles three and four. Angie is going to bloody kill me.A/N: This story takes place in the present (early November of 2003 if you really want to be exact), so don't be alarmed if I throw in lines from fairly recent songs. In fact, let's make it a game. In every chapter (starting with this one) I'll work a line from a song into the story. I'll give you the line and artist and see how many of you can get the song. Bonus points if you can figure out the album (which might be harder because I have a fair amount of EPs and B-Sides and stuff like that). I'll keep track of points and whoever has the most at the end of the fic, I'll send you like a CD of all the songs or something. Yeah, I haven't worked all the kinks out yet. Can you tell it's 1:00 AM and I'm in the midst of a bet? (Going vegan for a full month; no eggs or dairy until July 4th. I feel light-headed; it's like going veg all over again.)
Anyway, the line is from a Yellowcard song and it's:
"If you're gonna rip out my heart, could you use a knife that's dull and rust in color?"Good luck.
