Chapter 14
Over two months since updating...If you haven't given up on me yet thank you so much! And please don't give up on me, because I love writing this story so I always will come back. The excuse this time can be summed up into 4 letters...APUSH. AP US History. If you have ever taken that class then you know my pain. I literally have no time except for to do Cornell Notes. So I sincerely apoligize, but it is likely going to be a month or two until I update again. But you never know, Thanksgiving break is soon, after all!
This chapter came about because I realize I had overlooked Angelina's family a bit, so now we finally meet them. I didn't do much research, so I don't know if JK Rowling has ever expanded on Angelina's family. If she has, and I went against it, just humor me. Read and review! Thanks :)
George tugged nervously on his tie, not accustomed to wearing one ever since he left Hogwarts. Angelina had insisting on tying it for him, claiming that he didn't tie it neatly enough. That combined with the ridiculous suit rivaling the one he had worn Bill and Fleur's wedding, had been rather a knock to George's ego on an already trying morning.
"I still can't believe I've never met your parents. You're already practically part of my family. Mum thinks of you as another daughter."
Angelina gave a smile, glad and this reassurance of her place in George's world. "My family isn't like yours, I already told you that."
George shrugged. She'd told him the story of her family shortly after they'd returned from Paris. How her father had left when she was a child. She rarely saw him after that. He stopped by to visit maybe twice a year, always with some little trinket to make up for his long absences. Angelina pretended to be scornful when telling the story, as if the gifts meant nothing to her, but George knew she still treasured each and every one, kept in a box just underneath their bed. Her mother had never really gotten over her father's departure. She was never particularly brave, and that had just added to her fear and weakness, according to Angelina. The war with Voldemort had been too much for her, and she had gone into hiding, after a small effort to convince Angelina to go with her. Though they had sent a few letters back and forth since the end of it, Angelina hadn't seen her mother in over two years.
"Still, I just feel guilty."
"Don't," Angelina replied, slipping her arm through his. "Your family is more interesting, trust me." She bit her lip at this, though, for this was the first time her mother and father would have been in the same room together since the day he walked out. Things were bound to get interesting.
Angelina pulled George to a stop in front of a small townhouse with a well-groomed front garden. It looked idyllic, with ivy running up the stone walls and the paint on the shutters just faded enough to look charming. George wondered briefly if Ange had been exaggerating her family problems. He'd only ever had experience with the Burrow, where the chaotic and juxtaposing outside almost perfectly mimicked the family inside. They walked up the front steps to the porch and Angelina gingerly rang the doorbell.
"Oh, by the way. My parents are very traditional. They don't know that we're living together or that I'm, er, pregnant," Angelina said hurriedly in the split second before the door opened.
"Wait, what?" hissed George, as a harried looking woman opened the door. Her skin was tan, though not as dark as Angelina's, and her hair, pulled back into a fraying bun, had a definite tinge of red.
"Angie!" she crowed, pulled her daughter in and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"Hi, Mum," she said, pulling back slightly from the embrace. "Is Dad already here?"
The woman scowled. "Yes. He arrived a few minutes ago. Thank Merlin you're here now. How I ever stood that man when we were married is beyond me. Pardon my manners, I'm Roxanne Crane, Angelina's mother," she said, turning to George.
"I'm George Weasley," he replied, shaking her hand. "Angelina's…" he looked at Angelina for help, not sure what he was supposed to—or allowed—to say here.
"Boyfriend," she added in, widening her eyes in warning.
"Yes, yes, very nice to meet you. Come on in, then."
"Would you give us just a moment, Ms. Crane? Ange and I have had a slight…misunderstanding. We'll just be a moment."
Roxanne seemed to deflate slightly. "Alright, but if you value my sanity, you won't take longer than a few minutes." She walked back through the door, closing it a little harder than necessary.
"They don't know?" George whispered incredulously.
"No. I'm sorry, George," she rushed on, reading the angry look in his eyes. "I haven't seen either of them in so long! I couldn't face telling them on my own!"
He sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist. "It's okay," he soothed. "I understand." Even telling Molly had been a bit daunting, though she was absolutely thrilled. She didn't, however, understand why there would be no wedding to plan—yet. "We'll tell them together." She nodded and gave him a watery smile. "One last thing…what do you mean, 'traditional'? Will they be just a little disappointed? Or is your father going to turn me into a parrot for it?"
Angelina laughed and shook her head. "He's not going to turn you into a parrot." George breathed out in relief and opened the front door to go it. "No, he stopped after the last guy couldn't change back." George whipped around to walk back out the door, but Angelina pushed him through. "I'm kidding."
They walked into a small parlor, where Ms. Crane was seated, looking rather uncomfortable, though it was her own house. On the couch across from her sat a man that could only be Angelina's father, for he bore a striking resemblance to her. He had the same high cheekbones and deep brown eyes, with a full mouth and dark skin. Yet where on Angelina these features added up to humbled beauty, on him George thought there was an air of arrogance. He stood up when they walked in and stared at Angelina. "Is that my little girl?" he called with laughter in his voice. "You're all grown up! I almost didn't recognize you." He strutted over to give her a hug, which Angelina returned with lukewarm affection.
"Maybe you'd recognize me easier if you'd made an effort to see me in the past four years."
Her father looked taken aback. "Don't be like that, sweetie. You know I wanted to see you. It's just things were busy, and then everything with You-Know-Who…" Angelina looked ready to give an angry retort, but her father cut in again. "Let's not fight. Why don't you introduce me to this young man?"
George watched as Angelina repressed her words with difficulty and turn to him with a smile. He caught her hand and gave it a squeeze, which she returned. "Dad, this is George Weasley."
"Pleased to meet you sir," George said, shaking his hand.
"A strong grip! Well, pleased to meet you, too. I'm Richard Johnson. Why don't we all have a seat, I believe Roxie is almost done preparing some lunch for us."
Roxanne stiffened at the nickname, which she had not heard for almost ten years. "It should be ready. Give me just a moment." She walked to the adjoining kitchen, where George watched her for a moment waving her wand about rapidly to prepare their meal before his attention was called away.
"So, a Weasley you say?" Mr. Johnson asked. "Do you know Harry Potter, then?"
"Yeah, he's my brother Ron's best friend and my sister Ginny's boyfriend. I've known him since he was eleven."
"Of course! You must have been a great deal involved, then? Perhaps even there…that night?"
George stiffened and sucked in his breath. Angelina's hand instinctively reached out to grip his, stroking her fingers soothingly over his knuckles. "Yes, Dad. We were both there. No, we are not going to talk about it. No, you are not going to write about it. No, you are not going to mention it again," Angelina stated firmly. Best to get that all out on the table. Her father was a freelance reporter, and could never pass up a good story. But Angelina was adamant about this, and her father looked shocked.
"Looks like you've gotten your mother's temper," he said warily. "Right, didn't mean to intrude. My apologies." There was an awkward silence for a moment or two, broken only by Ms. Crane's voice.
"Lunch!" called Roxanne from the dining room, where plates and food were whizzing aided by magic onto the table.
"It smells wonderful, Ms. Crane," George said, pulling a chair out for Angelina.
She smiled. "Thank you. Angelina tells me your mother is a wonderful cook, so that must be a compliment."
"Too bad I didn't get any of that talent. I tried to make Ange dinner one time, and it was a fiasco. No amount of magic in the world could have helped that mess."
The whole table laughed at George's expense, but Ms. Crane smiled approvingly. "Still, a man who will cook…Angelina's a very lucky girl." Angelina nodded vigorously.
"That reminds me," Richard interjected. "What do you do for a living, George?"
"I own a joke shop. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, in Diagon Alley."
"You must've heard of it, Dad. It's huge! Never a peaceful moment in there," Angelina said, smiling proudly.
"Can't say that I have. I don't get out to Diagon Alley much. Still, business sounds good, then?"
"Yeah, it's great. Obviously it was slow for a while…after. But things picked up again. Angelina actually is the reason, she saved the shop, I swear. She helped me run it for a long time, until she got on the Canons. Now my brother Ron is helping, at least until he finds something better to do with his life."
"The Chudley Cannons?" Richard asked incredulously.
"Yes, isn't that great?" Roxanne interjected, an edge in her voice. "Angelina told me a few months ago in a letter, I was so proud of you, darling."
"Thanks, Mum."
"My daughter is on the Canons. The worst team in the league. That's just great," groaned Richard, disgruntled. Angelina's face fell, loosing the glow of pride it had gained with her mother's compliment.
"Ange is the best Chaser there. In fact, she flies better than most of the other teams they've played. She fantastic," George said, defending her.
"If she's so good then why is she on the Canons?" retorted Mr. Johnson.
"Because it's not all about being the best, Dad," Angelina said softly, though with an accusatory edge.
"Obviously."
Roxanne cleared her throat, trying to break up an argument that might ensue. "George, would you mind passing the bread?"
"Er, of course." George was trying to read Angelina's face, see what she needed. He was suddenly enlightened about why she hadn't shared much about her family, especially her father. George saw her then, throughout her childhood. A young girl searching desperately for her father's approval and never finding it. And he saw the second before it happened that this was the last straw.
"I'm pregnant, Dad," she blurted out. Roxanne dropped the bread basket she had been receiving from George, where it clattered loudly on the china. "Oh, and George and I have been living together for about seven months. We're not married, and we're not engaged." George heard Roxanne breathing in raspy breaths beside him, but she said nothing. All eyes were fixed on Angelina's father. He hadn't moved in what seemed like ages. Then, he calmly pushed back his chair, folded his napkin and laid it on down, and walked out the door. No one spoke until they heard the gentle creak of the front door and knew that he had departed. Angelina burst into tears.
George pulled her into his arms, where she buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed. Ms. Crane's hands fluttered about nervously, wanting to comfort but unsure what to do. George made a gesture for her to come closer and gently transferred Angelina into Roxanne's arms. "I think she needs her Mum right now," he said, and excused himself from the table.
He walked upstairs, not intending to snoop, but found himself in what could only have been Angelina's room. The walls were painted uncharacteristically pink, but were nearly covered with posters, pictures, team banners and Gryffindor emblems. Angelina obviously hadn't lived there for years, but somehow George knew it hadn't been changed. As if Ms. Crane always kept it ready, waiting.
Absentmindedly he picked up a framed photo, and found himself looking himself looking at a young Angelina, swinging happily between her two parents. They stopped and waved when they saw George looking, and he gave a small smile back.
"He still sees her like that," a voice said from the doorway. George turned to find Ms. Crane watching him. "That's why he was so upset. She's still a little girl to him…to both of us." She walked over to the bed and motioned for George to sit next to her. "I've made some bad mistakes in my life. I regret hiding the most. Not just from Vol…Voldemort." She finished with a shutter, "But from Angelina. I was afraid of who she was becoming. She was turning into such a strong, confident woman that I was afraid one day she was going to wake up and realize what a coward I was. I never imagined she'd still need me." Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes. George realized with a start she looked like Angelina when she cried.
"I know she hates me for leaving. For not being strong. And I know there is no way I can make up for those lost years, but do you think I could try? I've lost so much…I would love the opportunity to regain something."
"Then you're not…you're not upset?"
"It's not what I would have wanted, no. But, despite what I may wish, I know Angelina is going to be a fantastic mother. And you, George, seem to be everything she needs. I'm happy for both of you."
George smiled. "She's what I need, too. A year ago…I was not in a good place." Roxanne nodded. Angelina had briefly mentioned to her what had happened. "And Ange, she was there. She was the only one who could make me feel like there was something still to live for. I honestly have no idea what I would have done without her. She's an amazing woman, and I do love her so much."
"I know. Angelina is very lucky to have you, and you her. She has the best of both of us, Richard and I. I know you must not look very kindly on him right now, and I don't blame you. But he was—is—a good man. We were a happy family for a while. That's why it hurts her so much; she still remembers what it was like. But can you promise me something? Help her forgive him. He loves her so much, despite what it may seem, and once he sees past his prejudices, he'll apologize. I know Angelina, and she won't easily forgive him. But a girl needs her father. She's gone too long without one. This hate is going to eat her up, as it did me. I didn't forgive him. I'm not sure now if I can. I don't want my daughter to go through the same, and I know she loves him, too."
George nodded. "She does, I know it, too."
"Good. I'm glad you'll help with that." She wrung her hands nervously. "Will you help me, too, then?"
"Of course. Anything."
"I just want to meet my grandchild," she said with a trembling voice. "And to regain my daughter."
George took her hand between both of his. "I would be honored to have you in my child's life. And Roxanne, I know Angelina misses you, too."
She nodded, smiling and crying. They walked downstairs, where Angelina was sitting on the couch, looking at an old photo album. Tear tracks were still visible on her face, though she was no longer crying. Roxanne looked to George, unsure of what to say.
"Ange, do you prefer Gram, Grandma, or Nana?"
Angelina smiled hesitantly, as if not sure if she understood correctly. "I always called my grandma Nana…"
George turned Roxanne. "Nana Crane it is, then."
"Mum…do you mean it?"
"If you'll have me, Angie."
Angelina opened her arms, and her mother fell into them, both laughing and crying at their long overdue reunion.