A/N- Hello! To all of my new readers, welcome! To all coming from Blue, welcome back (and thank you for your support)! This is predominantly a George/Angelina fic (do they have a couple name?) with a touch of Ronmione and Hinny. My main ship is Ronmiome, and I will be writing more of them, but there is so much freedom with this couple that I couldn't resist. Plus, there doesn't seem to be much written about them. When you can't find what you want to read you write it! I have taken freedoms with the characters (slutty bi Fred, anyone?), though it is still cannon. I am planning on making this quiet a long fic, so I hope you enjoy this little taste!
~Dot
Chapter 1.
The High Highs and the Very Lows
This. This was a new low for Angelina. Sure, she had made mistakes in the past. She had experienced lows (in truth, she thought it couldn't have gotten worse than three days earlier). But this was about as pathetic as she had ever felt; crying in the middle of a shag. With a random muggle bloke which she had picked up at a pub, no less. He didn't even seem to notice that she was in the middle of a crisis. Tosser.
He finally finished, plopping his full body weight onto her. If only she could shimmy out from under him, then she could escape this purgatory. He moved off of her, whispering something along the lines of how brilliant that was. Boy, he really was unaware, wasn't he?
"You alright, love?", he asked, finally noticing her tear-stained face.
"I've got to go," she replied curtly.
"Oh," he said, and Angelina could almost make out hurt in his voice. "There's a clean towel on the door." What a gentleman.
It would have been so much easier if she could just scourgify this whole mess. But, that's what she got for hooking up with a random muggle.
She dressed and made her way out of his flat to find a good spot to apparate. The street was bustling, even though it was well past midnight. She made her way through rowdy pub-goers and a group of scantily clad women on a hen-do. Unconsciously, she felt for her wand in her bag, her senses recently on high-alert. Even without death eaters on the run, it probably wasn't great for a woman to be wandering around muggle London, alone, in the middle of the night.
She finally found a quiet enough spot and apparated to her bedroom. It was nights like these that she was thankful for her own room in her shared flat. At first, she was a bit jealous of Alicia and Katie spending all of that time together, without her. But recently, she began to grow comfortable in the solitude. She walked to the door and pressed her ear against it. Silence. They were likely still at the pub, she should have been as well.
Lee had suggested that they go out like the old days. But it wasn't like the old days, was it? The group didn't seem to mind, however. They were desperate to drown out their sorrows; ease the pain a bit even if they were missing two very notable members. She could only kick herself for deciding to leave with the first muggle man to give her the time of day. Why hadn't she stayed with her friends? They were probably having a hell of a time celebrating- no, that's not right. Mourning? Either way, they were likely plastered and not feeling an ounce of pity as Angelina was.
It's not like one-night-stands were common for her. For Oliver, sure. Same for Fred…
Ugh.
She knew why she did it. She wanted someone to look at her without the overwhelming sadness and misery she was becoming so used to seeing. Tears swam in their eyes, even if they were talking about nothing of note. On top of that, everyone had to ask her how she was doing. How was she supposed to respond to that? It had only really been a few days, and she was already sick of it. Sick of feeling miserable. Sick of thinking of him at every moment. And of George. Poor George.
She took a swig of contraceptive potion and reached for the sleeping drought. At least it could give her some peace, if for an entirely too short amount of time.
The next morning (well afternoon really), Angelina found Alicia and Oliver sound asleep in the sitting room. She momentarily thought back to the first night that the girls had in their flat.
It was one of Angelina's favourite memories. They had just graduated Hogwarts, and she and Alicia decided to be real adults and get their own place. Of course, they had to christen the flat with a do. It was the main group; Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Lee, Oliver, and the twins. Angelina and Alicia had spent hours decorating and trying to make it a proper adult party, fancy muggle wine and all. But, instead, it had snowballed into a wild night, as their parties tended to do.
They started out playing drinking games. Angelina was the only one who was sober by the time the twins announced they were going to break into the neighbour's pool. Of course, they all followed. It was hard to say no to the twins, especially once they set their mind on something. So they, not so silently, made their way to the next-door flat's pool. They magically unlocked they chain-link fence and stripped down to their pants and knickers. Thinking back, Angelina and Alicia could have easily changed into their swimsuits, which they had in their rooms. But, that was no fun, was it?
The almost-nudity of the group didn't help to break any sexual tension that was taking place. There had been plenty of in-dating in the group, mostly with Fred. He had dated Angelina briefly during the Yule Ball, snogged Katie, and hooked up with Oliver a time or two. There had been other unsuccessful relationships; George having gone with Alicia to the Yule Ball, (though they never really dated) and Lee trying desperately all of their seventh year to hook up with Angelina. By this time, Lee was well over her, and on the prowl.
So it was no surprise that as soon as they made it back to the flat, Oliver and Fred had excused themselves, not-so-inconspicuously, and apparated away together, presumably to one of their flats. The rest of them changed back into dry clothes and found themselves gathered in the sitting room, chatting and drinking until they fell asleep, one-by-one, on the various furniture that was scattered about the place. Angelina and Alicia could have excused themselves and gone to sleep in their beds, but there was something about being together that made them stay, even if it meant a night of uncomfortable sleep. If only they knew that it would be one of the last times that they would all be together.
The wooden floor creaked under Angelina's foot, and she was shaken out of her reverie. She headed over to the kitchen to make her world renown hangover cure.
"Morning," said Alicia, having just woken from her slumber, stretching her arms dramatically as she made her way into the kitchen with Angelina.
"It's half-past 12," Angelina responded, with a smirk.
"Yeah, whatever," Alicia responded, grabbing a piece of bread, apparently not able to wait for Angelina's cooking. "Katie kicked us out of our room; you're so lucky you have your own."
Angelina smiled; that was another reason she didn't mind having her own room.
"She's with Lee," Alicia said in a mock-scandalized tone.
"Oh," responded Angelina. That was undoubtedly a new development. She wasn't aware that Lee or Katie had feelings for one another. But, as they say; grief brings people together.
"Speaking of kinky sex…", Alicia started.
Was that what we were talking about?
"I'm surprised you're not still at that muggle blokes. He was well fit," Alicia said, wagging her eyebrows. "What happened?" Alicia asked, likely wanting to hear all of the details.
"Nothing came of it," Angelina responded, squashing Alicia's excitement.
"Nothing came of it, or you didn't?" Alicia teased.
"Both," said Angelina with a smile. She had finished making eggs and bacon and pushed a plate towards Alicia.
"There's no way I can eat that! I feel like I'm going to be sick at any moment," said Alicia, miming being sick for emphasis.
"Just eat it, it will help," said Angelina.
Oliver had woken up, apparently led to the kitchen by his nose.
"If you don't, I will," he said.
"Here," said Angelina, passing him a plate.
"Cheers," said Oliver, tucking into the fat-heavy breakfast.
"It's days like these," he said, in between bites, "that I think you've got the right idea", he said to Angelina. "Two-drink maximum. Seems mad in the moment, but the next day…"
Angelina shrugged and made herself a plate.
They ate in relative silence, the other two dealing with their hangovers and Angelina dealing with, well, whatever she was dealing with.
Before they could finish, there was a tap at their window. An owl hooted at them, begging to be let in.
Angelina went to the window and let the owl in, giving him a treat in exchange for the letter he held in his beak.
The envelope was addressed to herself, Alicia, and Katie, written in fancy scrawl.
She tentatively opened the letter, suspecting what it contained. As soon as she saw the first word, her heart sank. It was an invitation to Fred's funeral.
In three days.
It was so soon. He had just died. Angelina could still picture his body lying in the middle of the great hall, the smell of burnt wood and blood stinging her senses. At first, she had looked over at him in shock. She couldn't fathom that that was Fred's body. She was waiting for him to pop up and shout just joking, or go on about a new WWW product that temporarily stops one's heartbeat. But that never happened. Instead, she stood there, staring, afraid to go any closer. Not just to see his body, but to see the ones around him, grieving so fiercely she was afraid she would be blown away by their passion. The howls of George's grief still echoed in her dreams.
How was she going to manage as they lowered his body into the ground? It would mean that it was over- that his life was over- the final act in his too-short life.
