Legacy

Legacy

"Can I speak with you for a moment? Privately."

George turned around to see who was talking. To his surprise, it was Angelina Johnson and, like about a quarter of the other women around these days, she was holding a baby. Its skin was nearly as dark as Angelina's and its hair might have had a reddish tint. George wondered if it was a niece, nephew, cousin or friend's child. "Hi, Angelina. The store's busy; can't you talk to me here?"

It was April Fool's Day; of course a joke shop would be busy. There were no pranks being played at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes today, though. George had asked his siblings not to, and they'd spread the word to the employees and regulars. Somehow, pranking about on his first birthday after Fred's death just seemed wrong.

Angelina's expression looked strained. "George, I really think it needs to be private. It shouldn't take . . ." She trailed off, suggesting it probably would take a long time.

George walked to the register. "Ron, can you handle things without me for a bit? Angelina needs a few words."

Ron looked a little harried, but not crazed with it. George still couldn't believe it; who would have thought it was Ron who was the natural businessman? He and Fred had always had the ideas, but the only reason the shop had done so well was because they did have truly great products. With Ron on board, though, the shop was making money hand over fist. "Yeah, we should be OK for a few. Hi, Angelina, you're looking good. Who's the kid?"

Angelina nodded but must not have heard Ron's question. Not too surprising in the chaos. If Ron said it was under control, George knew he could be spared. "Come on back."

Once they were both sitting comfortably, and Angelina had settled the baby in a baby seat she expanded, she took a deep breath and smiled shakily. "I thought I could do this on my own," she said, her voice shaking just a bit. "After everything that happened, I didn't want to bother anyone. But it's just too much . . ."

"What is?" George asked. Fred and Angelina had gone out for a while; George wasn't sure if they'd ever ended it. And since she had been with Fred, George had never even considered asking her out. Even if she was a beautiful, funny Quidditch player who could prank around with the best of them. She looked a little paler than usual, though.

"Fred and I . . . You knew we were together, right?"

George nodded.

"Well, after he . . . At first I just thought I'd grieve and go on. You understand."

Oh, yes, George did. Hardest thing in the world, sometimes, but he understood.

"But, when a couple of months later, I realised I was late, really late," Angelina shrugged. "It seemed like some kind of miracle. And it is, and he's beautiful, but . . . I just can't do it on my own."

George's thoughts stuttered to a stop. The baby was Fred's? He hadn't known; Angelina had made that clear. Why, that would make him the first grandchild, not the one that Fleur was ready to pop out any minute now. And, if Fred were the father, well, George could step in, couldn't he? Help out with . . . whatever it was that babies needed. And, maybe, some day, when they were both done grieving... He shook his head. "You're a little fool, y'know? We'd all love to be helping you; neither of you'll ever want for anything." He took a deep breath. "Can I hold him?"

Angelina smiled. Something was off about it, but George thought that might just be the stress the poor girl was under. "Sure," she said, picking up the baby and holding it out to him.

With all the babies that were being born, George had learned the proper way to hold one, so he held out his arms. The weight felt funny in his arms, but it wasn't until Angelina pulled out her wand, said "Finite incantatem!" and the baby disappeared that he realised he'd been had.

Angelina was sniggering. Her pallor must have been a glamour as well, because it was also gone. "April Fools! you stupid git. Oh, does that feel good. I pranked George Weasley but good!" She was folded over with laughter.

It took George a few minutes to figure out how he felt. He knew he ought to be outraged. He'd asked that no one prank him today, and Angelina had to have known that. And to use Fred, and his death, should have been salt rubbed into the wound.

But he could almost hear Fred's voice in his head telling him how thick he was to fall for the prank, and Angelina had done a fantastic job of pulling off the prank. Even using a glamour to mimic exhaustion; that was the mark of a true prankster. And, "Were you two even together?"

"Not since you two left Hogwarts," Angelina finally answered, getting her giggles under control. "But Harry thought you could use a good laugh so you'd remember Fred properly today." She finally sobered, a little. "They're all worried about you, you know."

"So, you're not grieving for Fred?" He wouldn't want to do anything to Fred's memory, but if they hadn't been together . . .

"Well, yeah," she said. "I mean, he was a friend, a good one. But I'm not mourning a lost love or anything. Just a good friend, and the twin of another."

How could he have thought that pranking today would be wrong? Wasn't it time, and past time, to start remembering the funny things, the good things? His brother the prankster, not the warrior? Well, maybe both. He looked over at Angelina and gave her his most charming smile. And apparently a stupid, blind git as well. "I think that, after the shop closes, we should go out and raise a pint to a dear friend's memory. And, then, maybe make some new ones. What do you say?"

"Are you mad?" Angelina said, with a grin. "I'm not going anywhere with you today. How about tomorrow night?"

George sighed. "I suppose," he said, knowing it sounded fake. Because it was, of course. "You'll just have to make it up to me somehow." Unable to keep the sad face up anymore, he broke out into laughter, feeling as if the world had just exploded into colour.

fin