Hummingbird
It was two days after the funeral that Angelina found herself at the Burrow.
Or, more specifically, the small graveyard situated a few short miles away. As she walked through the various graves, Angelina could see the easily recognizable house in the distance. Somehow, this made her feel a little bit better –it was easier knowing that Fred was close to home. As his gravestone came into sight, she felt her chest tightening. Watching his coffin be lowered into the ground forty-eight hours earlier had been one of the single worst moments of her life, and standing there again was almost unbearable. However, despite the painful ache in her chest, she slowly lowered herself and took a seat on the freshly placed dirt.
Angelina was hardly surprised when another person plopped down beside her a few minutes later.
George sat there in silence for several moments as she tried to hide the tears she couldn't help from falling. Then suddenly he let a small laugh.
Angelina looked at him in confusion.
"There," he said, pointing to a small hummingbird hovering in the air above them. He watched it fly about for a more seconds and then continued.
"My mum, when we were younger - she used to always say that me an- and him were like hummingbirds. Even when we were standing still, we never really stopped moving." He gave Angelina a small smile. "I always thought they were sort of good luck after that."
"Yeah." Angelina nodded. "Well, we could definitely use some of that."
There was a long pause. The hummingbird fluttered out of sight as George swallowed hard and began to speak.
"I came here twice yesterday. And once already this morning. An-and every time, it gets harder to leave."
Angelina sighed. "I almost came yesterday, but Alicia told me I should wait a few days." She looked at him. "I barely waited one."
George looked down, biting his lip.
"But," she continued, "now that I'm here and we've talked... I've realized – I don't need to come here to be with him. It's like- like with the hummingbird?" She wiped away a tear, laughing at herself. "All the memories like that. We have those. So it's like he's everywhere we want him to be."
George raised his head and began to say something, but a passing noise grabbed his attention.
The hummingbird was hovering over them once again. But this time, a second, almost identical, hummingbird was flying at his side.
George's words died in his throat.
"Look," Angelina said softly. "He has a brother."
George was staring at the hummingbirds.
"Yeah," he forced out, voice cracking.
He continued to watch the birds.
And despite the tears streaming down his cheeks, he couldn't help but smile.
