For weeks, Angelina would arrive in the morning on her days off or in the evenings after work to help George prepare the stock needed to reopen. Although they often worked in silence, there was very little of the gloomy atmosphere that had dominated their previous lunches. Sometimes she would put on the radio and sway slightly to the music. Sometimes he would insist on taking a break to read the sports section together and see what ridiculous new Quidditch theory Oliver was spouting to the press. They always stood side by side when working, leaning over his precise notes and occasionally reaching for the same ingredient. It was tranquil and warm, like she'd said. He couldn't help feeling alive when she was around.

One afternoon as they worked, George imagined Fred there, rolling his eyes as their hands touched and they tried not to react. He decided Fred would've pulled up a chair and made some witty observation about it, wriggling his eyebrows with a look that blatantly asked what they were doing sneaking around without him. The thought made George laugh – a quick, unpreventable laugh that caused him to drop the ladle he was holding.

Angelina looked up at him, confused but with a grin on her face. "What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head. "Just thinking about some advice I got a while back... We've been at this for over six weeks now, I think you deserve a night off."

"Oh no, it's alright, I like –"

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Angie," he pressed, taking her hand. "We could call up the gang and go dancing, to that place you used to like. Or get ice cream and go for a walk or… anything. We could do anything."

Looking down at his fingers covering hers, she bit her lip to control her smile, "A walk would be nice. And… maybe we could – we could still go dancing another night? When I have time to find a dress?"

"Another night is fine," he agreed. Then, despite knowing Fred would've been banging his head against a brick wall by this stage, he asked awkwardly, "D'you mean, as a… date?"

"Is that what you meant?" Her cheeks were slightly flushed and he took that as a good sign.

"Er, yes?"

"Oh, me too!" Mortified, she tried to lower her voice a bit. "I mean… that sounds good."

"Great, good…" Letting out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, he grinned and asked, "Will we go for that walk now though? Since this has to sit for a few hours anyway."

"Sure, I'll just grab my bag."

She slung it over one shoulder and they headed to the front of the shop, both joyfully aware of their still clasped hands.

As the weeks turned into months, George and Angelina became even more inseparable. Angelina was there at the reopening of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, when George's brief speech about his twin and their hope to spread a little cheer was received with over five minutes of clapping from the gathered crowds. She stood beside him at the remembrance service that marked the first anniversary of the Final Defeat. She wrapped her arms around him when they finally told their friends about their tentative relationship. And eighteen months after that horrible night in the glasshouses, she held his hand tightly and announced to both families that they we're engaged and planning to marry quietly a month later.

Sometimes, they gave each other the strength to face the memories. Other times, they found ways to escape the past and spend a short while like any other couple. Now and then, old classmates would express surprise that the fun-loving pair they knew from school preferred to stay home with their new son. Both Angelina and George poured all of their love and energy into that little boy, their Fred. Almost a decade passed before they added a baby girl, just as adored, to their family. Both children would listen with rapt interest to bedtime stories of life in Hogwarts under Headmaster Dumbledore and all the wild pranks their parents were responsible for. And if, occasionally, a nightmare brought back all the pain of the war, or a particular time of year made the memories hard to bear, George and Angelina had each other to hold at night and smile to during the day.

Many years later, when George realized sadly that he had lived more days without his twin than with him, the painful discovery was tempered by his twenty-two year old son's joyful announcement. Freddie bounded into his parents' home with his pretty wife to announce the impending arrival of the next Weasley generation.

"Everyone, I've got news!" he declared, both hands resting on the newest Mrs. Weasley's shoulders. "Maggie's pregnant!"

Angelina leapt to hug them both and Roxanne danced with excitement, "Really? Really Freddie?! This is so cool, I'm going to be the only auntie in second year, I bet!"

After all of the congratulations were finished, Fred looked at his father. "Dad," he said more quietly than before. "We found out at Mungo's, it's... it's twins. Twin boys."

Raising both eyebrows, George finally said, "Oh Fred, I can't believe you'd do this to us - to your mother!"

Angelina glanced at her husband quickly, reaching out to squeeze his hand, but she needn't have worried. A broad grin spread across his face as he complained,

"Do we honestly look old enough to be grandparents to you?!"

Pulling Fred into a tight hug, George could have sworn that in that instant, he saw a little bit of his brother in his son's sparkling eyes.