"Angelina, is something the matter?"

Molly's voice was full of motherly worry, and it made Angelina want to cry even more. "No – yes – I just need to be alone right now."

George caught her eye. His own were still red from crying, as they were every year on the anniversary of the war. He mouthed 'I love you' and gave her a weak smile. She gave one back and walked away from everyone else, towards the Room of Requirement. George would understand.

May 2nd was the most dreaded day of every year for anyone who had survived the final battle, and even though it got a little easier with every year that went by, there were moments when her grief felt as fresh and raw as it had the day Fred died.

His memory haunted her, and George, too.

She still waited for the day when both of them would burst through the front door, full of ideas for their latest prank, both of them alive and energetic and happy in a way that George hadn't been in a long time.

She loved Fred, yet she also loved George, and while she was usually certain she loved George more, days like this one left her ready to question. She loved them in different ways, that was for sure. George was her husband. He had laughed with her and cried with her; together they had embarked on a new life with new memories and got to know each other in all new ways. He was the father of her children, and the one she came home to each night. George was her present.

Fred, on the other hand, Fred was her past. He was her first love, and they say that nothing compares to that. He was her first kiss, her fist dance and her first date. He would forever hold a spot inside her heart.

She arrived at the Room of Requirement, not quite sure what to ask for, just begging for some help. And the Room delivered.

The Mirror of Erised awaited her, ancient and unmistakable. She stepped towards it, eagerly raising her eyes to the glass. Fred looked back at her, distinguishable by his two ears and the faint scar above one eyebrow, the result of a childhood accident.

"Fred?" She whispered, feeling disappointed and sick to her stomach. Did this mean that she loved him the most, after all?

Yet as she watched, the image changed. The scar faded and then George was the one before her, sporting a single ear and the slightly broken grin of which she'd become so fond.

"George?"

He nodded.

Angelina understood, well and truly. George was her present, and Fred was her past. It was time to leave him behind forever. She had moved on.

Still slightly emotional, but feeling stronger than she had before, Angelina left the room to find her family. They were milling around in the Entrance Hall, probably waiting for her, although none of them said it.

She smiled as she watched her son tug on his father's hand, and she could imagine the excitement in his tone as he explained the latest trick he and James had come up with and the pride in George's eyes as he listened. She made her way over.

"You okay?" George asked, watching her with concern.

"Yeah," she answered, scooping Roxanne into her arms and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I've never been better."

Written for:
Flower Language Challenge: Amaryllis
Doctor Who Appreciation Competition: Sarah-Jane Smith
Monthly Het-tastic Drabble Competition (prank)