I sighed, gathering up the ingredients for George's favorite dinner. As much as I hated today, I knew it was even worse for him. The date was May 2, 2000. It was two years since I had lost my boyfriend and George had lost his best friend, his life, his twin. Although our relationship was one that had started out of desperate lonliness, I truly did love George. He wasn't Fred, but he was quite literally the closest thing a girl could get. I was thankful for how quickly his family accepted us. I had been worried at first. The crack of someone apparating stole my attention away from my thoughts.

"Hey," I whispered softly. I was pretty sure he had just gotten back from the Burrow. Last night, he had told me that he didn't want to have dinner there.

"Angelina, can I erm, can I talk to you?" I wasn't used to the nervousness in his voice. Lifelessness, sadness, anger, those I were used to. Right now, he downright sounded like Ron. Nevertheless, I wiped my hands on a dish towel and walked into the living room. He was sitting on the couch, looking at his knees. I thought I saw tear tracks.

"Ange, I need to say something, and I just want you to listen before saying anything." I nodded, silently telling him to continue.

"Angie, I know today is hard for both of us. I miss Fred everyday. But we can't live in his shadow. I can't promise that I'll ever get over losing him. I don't know if you will either. I want you to know, Angelina Johnson, that I have loved you since the day I met you. I stayed away out of respect for Fred. This might be incredibly off base, but I think Fred would have wanted us to be happy. I love you, and I'm pretty sure you love me, at least somewhat. I would be honored, Angelina Johnson, if you would marry me." Tears that had been forming in my eyes suddenly burst through and I threw my arms around his neck.

"Yes," I sobbed. "Yes I absolutely will marry you. I love you." He buried his face in my hair and we both shook with sobs. I can't promise that I'll ever get over Fred. I can't promise that I will love George as much as I could have loved Fred. And I can't promise that I'll be as happy with him as I would have been with Fred. But I don't have Fred. I have George. And I knew, sure as the sun would shine tomorrow, that George would make me as happy as he could. I could feel Fred looking down on us and I found myself smiling. He wanted me—and George—to be happy. I think we were.