~ when it rains, it pours ~
Angelina stood solemn in the rain.
It drenched her through. Head to toe, her clothes clung to her skin and her fingers slowly started to numb. Even so, Angelina was rooted to the spot in the wet grass, her eyes unmoving as she looked upon the words carved into the dark marble headstone.
1st April 1978 - 2nd May 1998
How had this happened?
How could she have possibly lost the person she loved more than anything in the world? All Angelina could think about was the multiple ways she might have prevented his death — if she'd been there. It was the same thoughts in her head, over and over, and she couldn't seem to get rid of them.
Angelina peered into entrance hall, where students and teachers were milling as they met with their Yule Ball partners and wandered into the Great Hall. She looked around for a flash of red hair, a cheeky grin, anything to give her the boost of confidence she needed to step out in this ridiculous dress.
She hadn't felt so nervous since her second year, when she had first tried out for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. She wasn't used to wearing such constricting clothing — she hadn't worn a school skirt since her first year — and the low heels she had been forced into wearing by Katie were cutting into her ankles.
'If I don't see Fred in the next five minutes, I'm packing it in,' she thought determinedly. Alicia spotted Angelina from the other side of the entrance hall. She was clinging onto George's arm, and George gave Angelina a wink.
Angelina swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. If George was here, Fred was bound to be along soon.
Someone tapped her shoulder, and she flinched automatically. She spun around, coming face-to-face with a familiar mischievous smile.
Fred's too-long hair was loose around his ears, but he'd tried his best to comb it out. His dress-robes were a little...traditional...but he managed to pull them off with his cocky stride.
His eyes flickered up and down, taking in the silvery, floor length dress she was wearing, and the way she had styled her hair into a side ponytail. "You look beautiful."
It seemed such a strange compliment coming from him, that she couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Nevertheless, she felt heat rising to her face as she let him take her arm.
Biting hard on the inside of her cheek, Angelina told herself to hold strong. She'd cried so much and it almost felt as though it would be silly to do so now. When she closed her eyes all she could see were glimpses of the Great Hall decorated in sparkling ice-white, glimpses of red hair and a dazzling smile. She could feel his hands holding hers. It was almost as though she were in the hall again — waltzing until Professor McGonagall has hurried them to bed.
That would never happen again.
She could never dance with Fred again.
Angelina couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment when Fred told her about his and George's plan to sabotage Umbridge during the exams, and flee Hogwarts after making a show. He was wild and excited when he described the fireworks they had planned, the exact moment they were going to burst into the exam hall, the surprise that would be evident on everyone's faces—especially Umbridge. They had the biggest firework saved to torment her specifically.
"What do you think?" he asked breathlessly, when he finally finished explaining the plan to her.
Angelina smiled weakly. It was hard to imitate excitement when she was stuck imagining being at Hogwarts alone; without him. "It sounds great," she said wistfully. "I hope I don't miss it."
She missed the rush; she missed the excitement.
All of her clothes were sodden. No one would even be able to tell she was crying now. There was too much rain, and she couldn't fight them anymore. WHat was the point? She was at a funeral after all.
She turned, blinking away her bleary vision, and internally cursed when her voice cracked. "George?"
George took her hand, offered a sad smile, and pulled her into a hug.
"I miss him too."
Daily Prompt: Day 2 - Angelina Johnson
Word Count: 717 words