Initium Novum [Fremione] || WATTYS 2018 Shortlist

6 - A Girl's Influence

Fred had decided to move into Charlie's old room in the light of George's betrayal. It saddened him deeply, as not once in his life had they slept in separate bedrooms. However, it was time to grow up. They weren't going to live together for their whole lives, so it was time to realise that it needed to be this way.

While he felt like he was dealing with his break-up with George well, he felt like he still had one more bone to pick. He hadn't seen Angelina in over a year. He had caught sight of her at the battle, but there wasn't any time for chat. He'd always had hope that something could happen between them but now he realised that he had been so naive. He should have got the hint when she stopped replying to his letters. Little had he known that George had been in constant communication with her all this time.

Fred had made the rash decision to go and visit Angelina at long last. It wasn't going to be a hostile encounter, just a small interrogation which he felt would be enough to satisfy his disappointment.

Having taking a second trip through George's things, he learnt that Angelina was still living with her parents in a small cottage in Yorkshire. He'd been there before only once, in the summer before their fifth year. Angelina had been ill so he, along with George and Lee, had surprised her and cheered her up. They were fond memories which had now been tainted by the recent discovery.  Alas, he memorized the location, and before he had an opportunity to change his mind, he was apparating from the Weasley garden.

Several seconds later, he found himself standing on the bobbly, paved pathway which led to a small wooden doorway.

On that door was a hand-painted sign which read "Johnsons' Cottage." There was a distant sound of sheep blaring and he felt a light, warm breeze on his face.

He swallowed, anxious to see the girl he had always loved for the first time in so long. It was so petty of him to do this, but now he was here, there was no going back.

Fred knocked on the door and waited for an answer. He rocked backwards and forwards, until he saw a blurred figure in the doorway.

As the door swung open, he was faced with Angelina's father, Randolph. He eyed him curiously, before his expression became more welcoming.

"George. I didn't realise we were expecting you again so soon," Randolph chuckled questioningly.

"Um, it's Fred actually," Fred smiled awkwardly, feeling a fresh wave of intolerance pass over him.

Randolph's face suddenly fell. "Oh, Fred. Of course. Well, um, do come in. I'll call Angelina," he mumbled, looking more perplexed than ever.

Fred entered the small cottage, which was open and sunlit. There was something bubbling on the stove while onions were being chopped by a floating knife. It was homely, but Fred didn't feel welcome at all.

"What is it?" he heard the familiar voice of Angelina call.

"There's someone to see you," Randolph shouted up the stairs.

Fred heard the thumps of footsteps, followed by the opening of a door. A second later he watched as Angelina descended the steps. Her face went pale as she looked frightened at the sight of him. She'd always been able to tell the twins apart, so she knew it was him.

"Fred?" she blurted out as she placed her second foot onto the floor.

"So you remembered he had a twin then?" Fred said, keeping his tone neutral.

She was silent, observedly too stunned to know what to say. Randolph stood awkwardly, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"Nice weather. I think I'll take a walk," he grimaced, before leaving the cottage without a second glance.

The quiet rang in Fred's ears like a drill, as he kept his eyes on Angelina, never breaking his gaze once.

"Did George tell you?" Angelina finally asked.

"No, he kept his secret very well, actually. Although locking his letters in his desk drawer was a bit of a stupid idea," Fred shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Fred. We were going to-"

"Look, Angelina. I've heard this all from George and I don't need to hear it again..." Fred sighed, wandering into the kitchen and glancing into the pot on the stove. It looked like some kind of stew, and although it smelled appetizing, Fred's insides were churning too much for him to even process it.

"Then why are you here?" Angelina questioned, regaining the strength in her voice.

"I just have a few questions. And then I'll leave you and my brother in peace. I've forever wondered why you never wrote back to me. Not once have I seen you in the past year. Why is that?" Fred asked, leaning back on the kitchen counter.

Angelina frowned, glancing down at her feet. "Because I wasn't interested, Fred."

"And that leads me smoothly to my next question. What do you see in George that I don't have? I mean, we're essentially the same person give or take a few traits," Fred chuckled for a second, before returning to a straight face.

Angelina smiled weakly. "That's the point. You're not the same. George, he... he's always been more straightforward. He doesn't overcomplicate things. He'll tell me he loves me and he'll show me immediately after. With you, Fred, I never really understood what was going through your mind," Angelina confessed.

Fred took this in with a single nod. She had looked so happy as she talked about George and Fred could not deny that.

His heart was broken but it seemed that this was the way it had to be.

"Tell me, do you love him?"

Angelina beamed sadly. "I do. So much. It hurts me to have to do this to you. I can't ignore the fact that keeping this from you has not been pleasant in any way. Will you forgive me, Fred?" she pleaded.

Fred watched as she stepped nearer, holding out her hand for him to take. There were tears in her eyes, and he couldn't reject that expression.

He took her hand. "Of course," he stated, pulling her into a hug.

She embraced him, before stepping back and facing him once more.

"You need to forgive George too. There were so many times he wanted to tell you but I didn't let him. He really cares about you and I'm sure this is tearing him apart," Angelina told him.

Fred considered this. He had to let go of his anger. His twin brother was his best friend and he couldn't let it end over a girl. He imagined Ron's reaction to their pathetic fight.

"Bloody hell, Fred. Stop being a git and be happy for your brother."