How Do You Talk to an Angel?
Disclaimer: You know the drill. Me no own, you no sue. The Harry Potter universe belongs to the brilliant JKR; Jamie Walters owns the song. (I think…He did sing it, after all.)
A/N: Just to make it easier for everyone, the lyrics are in bold (and have "~" around them) and thoughts and dreams are in italics.
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"Do you, Frederick Weasley, take Angelina Johnson to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do."
"And do you, Angelina Johnson, take Frederick Weasley to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
Angelina smiles shyly up at me before she answers. "I do."
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~I hear a voice in my mind~
"Oy, Fred! Wait up!" A voice jolts me from my reverie. Not that I mind, of course. I know who it belongs to. Angelina Johnson. The only woman I know that the whole world stands still for. I'm not exaggerating. When her beautiful 36-24-36 figure (I'm not a stalker, I swear) walks into the common room, conversations halt and everything goes all quiet until she sits down or goes to her dorm. Or maybe it's just that when I'm staring at her, there's no one else around. I'm not exactly sure.
~I know her face by heart~
I turn around anticipating her caramel-coloured face. Even though she's still a few metres away, I can see her cheeks tinged with pink from the sprint across the lawn. Her ebony hair is loose about her shoulders, not in it's usual ponytail or braids. It contrasts beautifully with the simple white tank top and white jeans she's wearing. But everything looks beautiful on her. Especially the colour white. Hmm. Wedding dresses are white. Stop, Fred. You're doing it again. She's just a friend. But she doesn't have to be.
~ Heaven and earth are moving in my soul~
Just looking at her makes me feel like I'm walking on air. Her touch is heavenly. After this morning's practice (mental note: kill Wood for getting me up at 4), she put her arm around me like she usually does. This shock went through me and it was like…pure ecstasy. I can only imagine what kissing her is like. And making love to her…I don't think I could take the brainpower needed for that sort of fantasy.
~ I don't know where to start~
"Fred? Fred? Come in Weasley," she says while laughing and waving one of her perfectly manicured hands in front of my face. I must've been staring. "What's up? You were staring at me." See, I told you. "You looked like Trelawney when she's about to predict someone's death."
"Sorry about that; I was daydreaming."
A grin slowly appears on her lips. "So who is she?" Come on! Just say it!
~Tell me, tell me, the words to define
The way I feel about someone so fine
How do you talk to an angel~
"You," I start but then add, "don't know her." I know, I know. I am an idiot. Worse than that, my inner voice tells me, a chicken. And to make matters even worse, I think I saw a flicker of disappointment flash in her deep brown eyes. It shouldn't be this hard to talk to one of my best friends.
~How do you hold her close to where you are
How do you talk to an angel~
"You know what, Fred? Somehow, I doubt that." She's talking again, but for once I'm not really paying attention to what she's saying. I mean, I hear her and I could answer her if need be, but I'm actually concentrating on her lips. They're so full and luscious and soft. And they're covered in raspberry-flavoured lip-gloss. I love raspberries almost as much as I love Angelina. I want to hold and taste her so badly. "So give me one guess and I'll leave you alone about it."
"Alright then. Who do you think she is?"
"Hermione." And she says this with a completely straight face. Then after a few moments for me to get over my shock, comes…
"Bloody hell, Angel! That was not funny!" I yell while she's cracking up. That's another reason why I love her; her sense of humour is almost as perverted as mine. "Besides, Ron would kill me."
"I thought it was. And I started to say McGonagall, so you got off easy. And since when are you afraid of Ickle Ronniekins?" she says, still laughing. And right then she trips over a large rock.
~It's like trying to catch a falling star~
I manage to catch her and luckily, too. Angelina might not mind getting dirty after a good Quidditch game, but she has this obsession about her normal clothes being clean. (I think it comes from growing up rich.) Grass stains on her white jeans would not fly with her. I hold her in my arms for a few seconds; it's just like that muggle thing Dad told me about. What's it called? Electricity, that's it. I wish we could stay that way forever.
"Um, Fred?" she says with a bit of a grin on her face.
"Hmm?" I murmur. I have the girl of my dreams in my arms so I'm sort of incapable of actual speech right now.
"You can let me go now." But I don't want to!
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Right." I reluctantly release her and follow her back to Gryffindor Tower all the while wishing that she was walking towards me instead of getting further away.
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~At night I dream that she is there~
"Would you care for a dance, Mrs Weasley?
"Of course, Mr Weasley."
As we dance the first dance at our reception, I look into Angelina's deep brown eyes and say, "I love you, Angelina Antoinette Johnson-Weasley." She just chuckles. "What's so funny?"
" I'm just going to be Angelina Weasley from now on. I'm not going to play around with hyphens. It's far too complicated. Don't know how Maman did it. Besides, yours is the only last name I want."
"When was the last time I told you I loved you?"
"Two seconds ago. But do say it again."
"I love you."
"GET UP!!!!" a masculine voice yells in my ear, jolting me from the wonderful dream I was having. "We have practise!" (Mental note #2: definitely kill Oliver Wood.)
"Dammit, Wood! It's four thirty in the bloody morning! Let me sleep!"
"I gave you an extra half-hour! Anyway, you can dream about Angelina in Binns' class."
"I wasn't dreaming about her!"
"I might believe you if you didn't talk in your sleep. Now, I expect you and your brother on the Quidditch pitch in ten minutes!" And with that, Wood slams the door of my dorm. So I get dressed and head downstairs.
~And I can feel her in the air~
"Dammit, Wood! One morning of sleep is not going ruin our chance for the Cup!" Alicia's voice carries down to the common room. So Oliver must be waking the girls up now.
"I'm giving you till the count of three to get the hell up. One… Two…
"All right. All right. I'm up! Now go away so I can get dressed." I'd laugh at the incredibly loud exchange, but like I said, it's four thirty in the morning and I'm tired. Then I hear a giggle coming from the couch in front of the fire.
"Poor, Alicia. She still hasn't learned to get up early if you want to avoid Oliver's wrath." Angelina. I thought I felt her presence.
"So how long have you been up?" I asked her as I sat on the couch beside her. She always was a morning person, but even Angelina doesn't wake up until about six.
"All night. I had a Potions essay to write and I just finished about an hour ago."
"That essay isn't due for another couple of days. If wasn't, I would've been down here with you. So why have you really been up all night?"
"Couldn't sleep. Too preoccupied."
"With what?"
"School and prefect duties. Oliver trying to kill us. Love."
~Tell me, tell me, the words to define
The way I feel about someone so fine~
Sweet Merlin! Did she just say "love?" I wish I knew how to tell her how I feel about her, but I don't. Saying "I love you" to her is just so damn hard. Oh sure. They're just three little words that don't mean anything apart, but together… together, they mean everything.
"Um, Angel? Whom do you love? He can't be worth losing sleep over."
"It doesn't matter, Fred. But you're wrong: he is most definitely worth losing sleep over," she sighed. But I swear I heard her mutter, "I can't believe you're this daft."
~How do you talk to an angel~
"Um, Angelina?" What a great start, Weasley. "I-I was wondering -"
"Spit it out, Fred. We don't have much time before Wood comes back."
I take a deep breath and pray that I don't come off sounding like an idiot. "I was wondering if you'd go out with me. I love you; I have for years. Ever since the first time I saw you at Kings Cross. The girl I was daydreaming about yesterday was you. It's always you. I need you. I -" Her lips cut me off and I feel like I'm drowning. But I don't care. I've been dreaming about this for years and now I that finally have her, I'm never going to let her go.
~How do you hold her close to where you are~
When we pull apart, we're both gasping for air. A smile plays at Angelina's lips. "Now, why couldn't you have told me this yesterday? I could have gotten some much needed sleep last night."
I hug her. "I thought you didn't feel the same way."
"You really are clueless, you know that?"
"Hey, I got the girl, didn't I?"
"You're so conceited. But I love you anyway."
"I know." And just as I bend my head down to kiss her again, the ONE voice I didn't want to hear interrupts me.
"Weasley! Johnson! Break it up and get your lazy arses on the pitch this minute!" (Mental note #3: murder Wood in his sleep.) Angelina and I reluctantly break apart and follow the team through the portrait hole. As she slips her hand in mine, I have the sudden urge to hum the wedding march.
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I got the inspiration while listening to my old Heights CD (I miss that show so much) and from my A Wedding Story-obsessed muse.