That Mistake I Made

It had been a fantastic evening. Fred had managed to get concerts to the newest Weird Sisters' concert, so he and Angelina had rocked all night long. They had enjoyed some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop, and they came home to the sparkling flat he and George had cleaned that very morning.

Angelina threw her cloak lazily onto the couch Fred and George had lovingly nicknamed "the lump," and smiled in admiration at how successful the twins had become. Sure, she knew all along that they would become popular, but she had never expected it to happen so quickly.

"How'd you manage to get the ice cream shop to stay open so late?"

Fred shrugged, "I have connections." He looked away from his girlfriend quickly. Angelina automatically knew he was lying, but she wouldn't let it ruin their perfect evening, so she ignored it and didn't press on.

"The flat is clean. I don't think I've ever seen this flat picked up, let alone clean. 'The lump' actually looks like a couch now."

Angelina smiled at the hurt look on Fred's face. He put a hand to his heart, dramatically fell to 'the lump,' and looked up at his laughing girlfriend. He held out a hand, beckoning her to join him, but Angelina shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid I can't. If I fall on the couch with you, then we'll both hit the ground, and have painfully bruised bums as a result."

She crossed her arms across her chest and merely shook her head at Fred's attempts to get her from standing in the middle of the living room/lab, to sitting on the couch beside him.

Giving up with a sigh, Fred dropped his hands in defeat. A picture of Fred and Angelina dancing at the Yule Ball in their sixth year caught her attention and managed to distract her long enough so that Fred could grab her around the waist and pull her to his lap.

"Gotcha'," he whispered, looking into her coffee brown eyes. Although Angelina had complained many times about how plain they were, Fred loved them. He wouldn't have them any other way. And when did she suddenly smell so good? Maybe it was the rum from his ice cream, but he felt himself melting into her beautiful chocolate brown skin when he leaned in to kiss her on the lips.

"Mmm, just what I thought," Fred hadn't stopped whispering.

"What?" Angelina asked, smiling brightly.

"You taste like chocolate," he answered.

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Look Fred Weasley, if you want to just go to your room and have a nice bonk, why don't you just say it? You don't have to pretend to be Mr. Poetry to get in my knickers. I love you just the way you are."

Fred couldn't help but laugh. "The one time I was being deep and all that other stuff, you don't take it seriously?"

Angelina kissed Fred again, only this time she deepened it and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled back and bit down on her bottom lip to mask her smile.

Fred nodded his head. "Okay, you've answered my question." He jumped up, Angelina cradled in his arms, laughing at his sudden move. He made a run for his room and slammed the door behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Angelina had visited the Healer for her chronic fatigue two weeks later, she hadn't expected the news she would receive.

Who would?

She sat on the hospital bad as ignorant and blind as any normal person would be. How could she have known that she had made a mistake?

"Miss Johnson," the Healer began, in that slow excruciating monotone, "how long have you been this way? The weak stomach, the fatigue, and the tiredness?"

Angelina shrugged. She didn't remember. It had just started... "Saturday," she replied, pleased that she actually remembered something for once.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?" the Healer said suddenly.

Angelina's eyes widened at the sudden news. She wasn't dying was she? She had Tutshill Quidditch auditions in two months, and she had to be in tip-top condition if she hoped to have a chance.

"And no, you're not terminally ill," the Healer said calmly, reacting to Angelina's apparent near-breakdown.

Angelina looked up to the ceiling and tears began to well up in her eyes. She suddenly knew exactly what the news was, and she wasn't quite sure if her eighteen-year-old ears could handle it.

"Give me the good news first," Angelina said quietly, eyes still glued to the ceiling.

"Well," the Healer began, "my dear, in nine months, you'll be getting a visitor. That's the good news and the bad, depending on how you take it."

Angelina lowered her head to find that the Healer was holding a tissue for her. She took the tissue and stood up from the bed. "Can I change back into my clothes now?" She could barely get the words out.

The Healer solemnly nodded her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The plan was not to tell anyone. At least, that was the plan.

When Angelina left St. Mungo's, the Healer had handed her two cards. On one card was the name of a specialist Healer from an abortion clinic. On the other card was the name of a function that could help teenage mothers in need of it.

Angelina held a card in each hand. Owl the first person, set up an appointment. Get a potion, drink it, and bleed for three days. Owl the second person and they set up a meeting. It's then either adoption or the end of your life.

But it wasn't that easy. It had never been that easy. If life were that easy, Angelina could have been able to wish all this away. This thing growing in her would be blowing in the wind somewhere and she would be hanging around at the joke shop with...

Fred.

Angelina picked up the first card and fought back sobs. They were too young for this, she and Fred. He had Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes with George. Their business was booming now. And she had her Quidditch auditions. She couldn't give up her one true calling.

"You've got two months," Angelina said to herself. She sat on the floor of her room, Indian-style, in her pajamas, a card on either thigh.

How long did she think she could keep this a secret?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Burrow was not as noisy as Angelina had remembered. Perhaps it was because the younger members of the family were not so young anymore...but it was more likely because the twin terrors were on their own.

So, when Angelina Apparated outside the house, she really wasn't expecting to see anyone in particular. She thought they would be on vacation again, like Fred and George had told her they might do, but she stood corrected as she noticed Ginny Weasley and her older brother Ron outside chucking gnomes across the fence.

"Hey Angie!" Ginny and Ron both exclaimed when they saw her.

Angelina gave them a small smile and headed slowly over to them.

"How are you two?"

Ron and Ginny both shrugged.

"We're okay," Ginny said through a heavy sigh. "It's so much house work now that everyone's busy with the war and all. It's just Ron and me, so you can imagine how that is."

Ron made a face. "Then, we have to get everything in perfect order for when Harry and Hermione arrive."

Ginny nodded her head in agreement. She looked at Angelina strangely.

"Is your mum home?" Angelina asked.

Ginny and Ron both nodded their heads. "Fred's at the joke shop," Ginny added hastily. Angelina looked down at her trainers, fighting the urge to cry.

Apparently, they noticed, because both Ron and Ginny ran inside to get Mrs. Weasley while Angelina stood in the yard, surrounded by grunting gnomes, and crying quietly.

Mrs. Weasley came rushing out, wiping her hands on her apron. She put a comforting hug around Angelina and said quietly, "We should go sit in the backyard. Would you like some tea?"

Angelina looked up at Mrs. Weasley and it seemed like the tears multiplied. What would Mrs. Weasley think of her now? Surely it couldn't be any worse than she thought of herself.

Mrs. Weasley guided her to the back and sat her down on the bench. "What's the problem, dear?"

Angelina shook her head slowly. She couldn't tell Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley would think she was a terrible person.

Well, aren't you?

"Oh come on, dear. It's not that bad, is it?"

Angelina nodded her head.

Mrs. Weasley sat beside her and Angelina could feel a small hand on her shoulder. "Did you kill someone?"

Angelina looked at Mrs. Weasley and began to laugh uncontrollably. She hadn't thought of anything worse, had she? Well, to her, there was nothing worse.

"Molly?" Angelina turned to see Nymphadora Tonks, a friend of the family and employee of the Ministry standing in the kitchen doorway. Angelina also saw Charlie Weasley standing behind her, and she hadn't seen him since she was twelve.

"Are you okay?" Tonks asked, looking concerned.

Mrs. Weasley had a hint of annoyance in her voice, "What is it you two?"

Charlie cleared his throat and stated, "Harry's here."

Mrs. Weasley turned back to Angelina and said quietly, patting her head, "I'll just get Harry settled in and I'll be right back."

Angelina nodded her head and Mrs. Weasley stood up and brushed past the pair with Charlie following behind her. Once they were out of sight, Tonks introduced herself calmly to Angelina, "I'm Tonks."

"Angelina."

"Fred's girlfriend? I hear a lot about you. All good, I must add. Why are you looking so down in the dumps?"

Angelina stood up.

"Tonks? Could you just tell Mrs. Weasley that I'll come back later when she's not so busy? I have to go home now. "

Before Tonks could protest, Angelina had Apparated home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting on her bed once again, Angelina held the cards in her hand.

"You've got two months," she whispered. "Time to start planning this out, quit crying, and be an adult. You can't avoid Fred forever."

It was true. Angelina hadn't even shown her face in Diagon Alley or at Fred's flat since she'd received the news. Well, it had only been one day after all. Surely Fred didn't miss her that much.

The Healer said she had only been pregnant three days. So that meant the baby wasn't really a baby. It was merely some burden pressing on her.

Angelina picked up the first card and read it aloud.

"Madame DeBarass, Knockturn Alley..."

Well, that was it. She had made her decision. She would head to Knockturn Alley tomorrow morning.