Posted: Oct. 18, 2004

Chapter Two: The Day She Died

Angelina was about a week into her holiday break and felt like she needed a break from her break. She and Draco had been out and about planning for their wedding, making sure when people saw them together they looked as happy as any other engaged couple would be. Much to Angelina and Draco's amazement, pretending to be happy together wasn't really that difficult for them.

It was late and Angelina was in her room at her parents' home getting ready for bed. She was about to turn off the lights when she heard a popping sound behind her. She turned around and saw Fred standing there. She smiled happily, but her smile soon vanished when she saw the intense look on Fred's face. "What the hell are you playing at, Angel?" Fred shoved a newspaper into her chest.

Angelina took a hold of the paper; it was The Daily Prophet. On the cover in big bold letters read: Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor Now Taken – The Malfoy Engagement. It was accompanied by a picture of her and Draco, holding hands, and looking very happy as they entered a bridal store.

Angelina looked up from her paper. "Trust me, this is nothing." She tossed the paper aside.

"How is this nothing?" He went and picked up the paper and just stared at the photo, as Draco and Angelina smiled at him and waved. "Please, tell me this is some kind of joke." He looked at her with hope in his eyes. "Because if it is, you got me, you got me good okay. Just tell me it's a joke." He looked back down at the paper. "A very cruel joke."

"Stop looking at this thing." She ripped the paper from his hands. "It's not a joke I'm engaged, but Fred-"
He fell onto her bed. "How? Why? When? I'm mean, was he who you were with, when we weren't together?"

"Of course not.'' She sat next to him. "Look Fred, this is an arranged marriage. Malfoy and I have already discussed this, we will only be married in name. We can still be together, Fred." She took his hand. "Just as long as we aren't seen together," she added.

Fred violently pulled his hand away. "You don't get it. You belong to another man!"

"I belong to myself," she defended.

"All the same." He stood up calmly. "I can't be with a married woman." He stepped away. "I just can't."

"Fred." She stood up and took a hold of him. "Don't you dare do this to me!"

"Don't do this to you?" He grew upset. "What about what you've done to me? How come you didn't tell me?" He pulled away again. "How come I had to find out in the damn newspaper!" He pointed to the paper on the floor. "I was with my brothers and Ginny in the shop when we saw that thing." He struck his chest. "You made me feel like a fool!"

Angelina became frightened; this was not her Fred, he had never raised his voice to her before. "Fred." She chocked back tears. "Please. I'm sorry. You're right, I should have told you as soon I found out. I'll make it up to you, I promise." She reached for him.

"How, Angel?" he said in a harsh whisper, as Angelina embraced him. "How can you make up for being with someone else?" Fred's arms betrayed him as they wrapped around Angelina. "Don't you understand, this destroys any future we had together?"

"We can still be together," Angelina pleaded.

"No, we can't." He gently pulled away from her and looked into her eyes, as moist with tears as his own were. "I refuse to be the other man, Angel. I refuse to live and love you in the shadows of your marriage. I know we had some difficult times. . ." He lost his voice for a moment. "But I always thought eventually we would be together; that you would one day take my name and be my wife. That one day you would have my children, and we would grow old together. And if we couldn't have that." he slowly shook his head. " If we can't have it all, then there's no point in being together."

"But Frederick – I love you."

"I know. I love you too and sadly, I think I always will." He kissed her forehead. "But as far as I'm concerned." He then took a step back. " You died the moment I heard my heart break."

"Frederick!" She reached for him again, but he Apparated before she could touch him, and she fell to the floor. That's where she stayed, for she had not the strength to get up; her tears and sadness had overpowered her and glued her to the floor. She and Fred had broken up many times before, but this time was different, because for the first time she knew he wasn't coming back. And she cried herself to sleep that night, not realizing that it would not be the last.

OoOoO

"Merlin! You look terrible," Draco said to Angelina when he met up with her two days later, to talk about floral arrangements. They met in a little coffee café with a poetic atmosphere.

"I'm not in the mood, Draco." Her voice was gruff from crying the night before. She had discovered that not only was she dead in the eyes of Fred, but in the eyes of all her friends. To them, marrying Malfoy, a known follower of the Dark Lord, was seen as nothing more than a betrayal of everything that they thought was good and right in the world; no matter what the circumstances. They made Angelina feel so low, that opting for death at this point didn't seem too bad.

"Not that I really care, but what's with you?" Draco caught the eye of a waiter and signaled him over.

"Nothing." The last thing she needed was Draco in her business, she thought, as she picked up the floral design book. "I just really need a mocha latte with extra foam."

"Hello, I'm Luke. What can I get for you today?" asked the waiter.

Draco leaned back in his seat, and looked at the waiter as if he was wasting his and Angelina's time. "We don't care who you are. And don't play stupid, you were standing two feet away, so you know what she wants; bring two, one without the extra foam, and don't take all day."

The waiter had a sour look on his face and was about to say something, but Draco shot him a look that made him think otherwise. "Right away, sir." And he went off to fetch their order.

"Must you intimidate everyone you meet?" Angelina asked, as she flipped through the book not really looking at it.

"We're not even married yet, and you're already trying to change me," Draco said playfully, with a glint in his eye.

Angelina put the open book on the table and crossed her arms. "That would take a miracle, not even an angel like myself, could perform."

"You, an angel?" Draco leaned over the table and turned the book in his direction, so he could see what page she stopped on. "Ha! I've heard stories of you and your temper that would make the devil run for cover." He looked down at the book.

"Hey! I've taken classes for that. And I-" She stopped when she saw Draco's head slightly jerk up from the page and look at her. She noticed that his face had turned soft, and it was actually very becoming of him. He looked like what he actually was: a seventeen year old boy and not a man trapped in a boy's body. For a moment he truly looked like an innocent child. "Draco?" she said, a touch above a whisper.

"You remember the day we met?" His reply was more like a statement than a question, but nevertheless his eyes seem to yearn for a certain answer.

Angelina shook her head slightly. "That day outside the Quidditch field?"

"I was a second year by then."

"Look, no offense, but back in school, people didn't exist in my world unless they correlated with Quidditch," she explained, as their waiter, Luke, brought their lattes.

Draco nodded his head and straightened back up to receive his drink. As he took a sip of his latte, Angelina watched as the steam from it swept over his face and his child-like expression melted from his features.

Angelina took her own latte and they sat in a comfortable silence. They were half way through their drinks when Draco looked up and noticed the clock on the wall, and realized he was late for a meeting with his father. He then turned his head and noticed someone with a camera outside the café window.

Draco stood up and put a few Galleons on the table before putting on his winter coat. "I have to go." He

then leaned over and touched his right cheek with Angelina's right cheek. To anyone on the other side of them it looked as though he was giving her a parting kiss. "Photographer." He explained and then said bleakly, "I like page thirty-two." With their business for the day concluded, he walked out the café door.

Angelina turned the book back towards herself, and saw that she had left the book on page thirty-two, it was an arrangement of assorted tulips.

Angelina was once again at home in her room. She was sitting in her bed with a piece of parchment and quill, writing about the tenth "I'm sorry" letter to Fred. He had not responded to any of her letters so far, but she figured if she just kept on trying, that eventually he would come around. She sent the letter on its way before she climbed into bed and fell to sleep.

She decided to sleep in the next day, and was only awaken by a popping sound. She turned in her bed to see who had Apparated into her bedroom. "I'm sorry, I thought you would be up and dressed by now."

"It's okay." Angelina sat up and saw the face she wanted to see, it just didn't belong to the person she wanted to see. But nevertheless she was happy to see a friendly face all the same. "I thought you weren't talking to me, George."

"I've had some time to think about it. I've decided this isn't your fault." George was always the logical one.

"Thank you. Now could you explain that to Fred?" She then asked anxiously, "How is he?"

"Hurting. Badly." He pulled up her desk chair beside her bed, and took a seat. "You got to stop, Angie."

"Stop what?" she asked.

George reached into his pocket and pulled out the letters she had sent Fred. They were all unopened. "This." He laid the letters on her bed. "I can't stand the way he looks when he receives one of these from you."

"I can't help it. I know he blames me, but it's not like I chose Draco over him."

"You use Malfoy's first name now? Never mind, it's beside the point." George waved it off. "Look when it comes to rules, you know me and Fred, we have no problems being the first to break them, but Angie, what you're doing. . . its marriage," he tried to explain, "See, if it were you and Fred, he would honor the vows of your marriage 'till his dying day, and he would expect you to do the same. And you wanting to be with him even after you're married to Malfoy throws off everything he has ever believed about marriage, because he never saw you as one to break your vows."

"But George, I don't love Dra- Malfoy. It's not the same." She kept her composure.

"It is to him, " he told her. "Angie, I love you, you're one of my best friends, so please don't take this the wrong way." Angelina only looked at him. "Keep your distance from Fred. The only way he can get over you, is if he believes, mind, body, and soul, that you are dead. So please, give my brother that peace and don't send anymore letters. Let him go, so that he can finally start to get over you."

"I don't want to hurt him anymore."

"Then stay away. Stop sending letters. Can you do that?"

She mouthed the word, "Yes," but sound seemed incapable of escaping her lips.

"Oh, Angie," George got out of the chair and sat on the bed. "Come here." He allowed Angelina to cry on his shoulder. "It's okay, it's going to be okay," he comforted her.

Angelina didn't want to believe it; that she was no longer a part of Fred's world. The thought of letting him go, she had no words to explain it, but she loved him enough not to want to keep on hurting him. And so, she realized that she could be no more than a memory to him, no more than a passing thought, if that at all. So she would be what he wanted her to be: she would be dead to him. She would give him that gift – she would give him that peace.

To Be Continued. . .

Preview Of The Next Chapter:

Draco turned towards Angelina, who was almost in a state of shock. He grabbed her by the arm and shook her out of it. She stared at him with wide eyes. "I don't know why you're so surprised. You knew this is what I would become," he said with a cynical tone.