To Fly

Do you remember when we were hungry?
Do you remember when we were cold?
Do you remember when we were happy?
Do you remember? Do you remember?
-Everclear, "Otis Redding"

To Fly
Chapter One-Winter Wonderland

Cold, colder, coldest, that's how the days seemed to be going, now that winter had finally set in. Angelina loved winter, and the way the snow fell on the trees, making their bows glisten and glimmer in the bright sunlight. She loved how the ground looked like a huge iced cake, covered with thick white frosting, and how the sky was clear and sharp with frigid air on some days, and frosty with snowy haze on others.

But right now, twenty-year-old Angelina Johnson was not thinking about the beauty of the season, or the quickly approaching holidays. She was stuck in the snow, halfway to nowhere, one boot clamped hard in a drift that had fallen in an avalanche too soon for her to avoid it. "Damn," she muttered, tugging on her foot, and letting her backpack slip off her shoulders to sink into the ground. Pulling her foot free, she sighed, grunted with exhaustion, and slumped to a seat in the snow, removing a glove and wiping a cold hand across her face.

"Stupid," Angelina whispered to herself, leaning against a nearby tree. "Should've known she wouldn't be living there, after all these years." And it was true. Alicia Spinnet's house was no where to be seen, though the map now clutched in Angelina's hands kept beeping and trying to mark a large X on her location. She rolled up the violently protesting map, stuck it in her coat pocket, and hauled herself to her feet, pulling her bag back on to survey the landscape. Not much here, she thought. I'd better head back.

"But you'd think," she said to no one, "That when you receive an invitation, the sender would be courteous enough to include directions, or something." Not that she really blamed, Alicia, Angelina told herself. She'd always been a bit absentminded. It had been such a long time since they'd seen each other...Angelina remembered how close they'd all been at school. But this wasn't the time. Hopping back into her car, Angelina slammed the door, hit the gas, and head of in the direction that she had come.

Or at least, that's where she hoped she was heading. The disgruntled map, still beeping and convulsing, seemed to think otherwise.

* * * * *

Some time later, perhaps an hour, Angelina's car gave a jolt, a shudder, and stopped dead. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't start up again. "Bloody heck," she exclaimed, having run out of creative curses to use a long time ago. She leaned back in the seat and drummed her fingers on the dashboard. "What to do, what to do..." She'd taken up a habit of talking to herself lately, she realized. Not as if there was anyone else to talk to out here. Climbing out of the car, Angelina kicked the door shut angrily, and surveyed her surroundings.

She'd strayed off the road a long time ago, without really realizing it. Now her car was sitting in a large open field, covered with snow, with nothing but a few trees barring an open view on each side. Pulling her wand out of her pocket, Angelina waved it in the air, murmuring the necessary words, but found that she couldn't apparate. I must still be in muggle country, she thought. There's a guard against magic around here.

Figuring she'd better get going, and try to find somewhere from which she could find a mode of transportation, Angelina shook the snow off of her hair, and waded forth, hoping fervently that no one would notice the car, stuck where it was, in the middle of a clearing all alone.

* * * * *

Shivering and rubbing her hands together, Angelina trudged forwards and onwards, the map long silent in her backpack, apparently having given up hope entirely. felt like she was getting colder by the minute, and her gloves were soaking wet with melted snow and ice, leaving her hands rigid and freezing within them. I wish I'd thought to wear a hat, or hood or something, she thought. But then, I didn't know I'd be out this long.

The sun, no longer glistening to glance prettily off of the snow, seemed meek and colorless, giving no warmth to her and her surroundings. After a while, Angelina could no longer see it at all, and looked up to realize that heavy white flakes were pouring down, obscuring her vision. She was among trees now, away from the open field, but no closer, it seemed to her destination. Every once and a while she would try apparating, but the charm set to ward off magic in muggle territory held fast. She was stranded.

So cold, she thought, so very cold...where's all the warmth gone? It seemed like only a few moments ago that she'd been fine...but now one of her arms didn't seem to be functioning correctly, too stiff and frigid to be of much use to her. She couldn't feel her nose or her ears anymore...and everything was becoming fuzzier, softer...as if the snow falling from the sky had blended with the ground, creating one huge blanket of white that her eyes could not penetrate.

Yet she kept walking onward, feeling, in the back of her mind, that if she trudged far enough, she'd have to be out of muggle country soon, and would be able to apparate, even if she was miles from home. But every step Angelina took seemed heavier than the last, and every snowflake that touched her nose felt colder. After a while, she didn't care where she was, or how she'd gotten there. Her whole mind was filled with a sense of weighted fatigue, that could only be lifted by sleep, even right here, in the soft snow...sleep...

But some bit of sense lingered in her mind. I can't sleep, can't sit down, she kept telling herself, over and over, while the inevitable weariness pressed upon her. I must keep going...I must get home...get warm...get out of the cold. But when she decided to try again to apparate, Angelina found that she couldn't lift her wand, that her hands had gone numb and useless. Her head swam, and, for just a moment, even as she leaned against a tree trunk, closing her eyes to finally relax against her will, she thought she heard a voice, quiet, as if far away.

"Angelina!"

Am I imagining things, she wondered? I'm delirious...I have to get out of the air...

"ANGELINA!" It was louder now, and unmistakable. Someone was calling out for her, louder and louder as they drew closer. She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it, finding it too much of a burden to speak. She would just drift off for a few minutes, it wouldn't harm her...just a few moments of peace...stop calling for me, stop it...I want to sleep...

And then something lurched into view, casting a tall shadow across the white ground. It was out of focus, she couldn't see it clearly, but it stretched out a long arm to her, and called to her again. "Angelina, can you hear me?" Yes, she tried to say, but no, no, she couldn't anymore...she couldn't even hear the birdcalls or the sound of the wind, she just wanted to rest...

"Angie, come on, come with me...can you see me? This way, this way..." and a strong arm was supporting her now, pulling her away from the tree, making each foot step painstakingly forward. She leaned into the arm, breathing in and out, her eyes still closed. "Come on, it's not too far, follow me, walk with me, we're almost there!" Something was wrapped around her shoulders, and Angelina felt a little bit of warmth trickle into her, causing her to shudder. This apparently alarmed the other person, who started walking faster, urging her onwards.

Angelina never knew how far she walked, or how long it took, because after a while everything became a haze, and it took all her strength to put one foot in front of the other, again and again. There was always that voice in her ear, encouraging her, whispering to her, telling her they were almost there, that it was all right, not to sleep, not to rest. It was torture, and so many times she wanted to fall down right there in the soft snow. But she had to keep going.

And finally, when she thought it was over, and that she could walk no more, a door opened, and light poured into her world. Light, warmth, the comfort of a chair that she was eased into by gentle hands, heavy blankets being placed over her, and a few whispered words accompanied her into her dreams, where everything was suddenly all right. And sleep itself was the most beautiful thing she'd ever
imagined.

* * * * *

The first thing Angelina saw when she woke up was a roaring fire in the fireplace across from her. The room was dimly lit, and all the cold had passed from her toes and fingers entirely. She found she could move all of her limbs again, but was loathe to do so, as she was more comfortable right now than she ever recalled having been in her life. But where was she?

Slowly sitting up, Angelina threw off the blanket that she was wrapped in, and looked around the room. It was small, with a large armchair near the fireplace. The only other real piece of furniture around was the couch she'd been sleeping on. On all the walls were picture frames, but none of them had photographs in them, except one. The boy in this picture couldn't have been more than fifteen, red haired, freckled, with a huge grin on his face. And standing next to him was a girl...it was-

A hand on her shoulder made Angelina whirl around, startled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," her assailant said, grinning, and pushing a lock of flaming hair out of his eyes. "I see you're feeling better, good. I was afraid we'd lost you for a little while there. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to go out without your hat? Mine did. Again. And again."

"Fred...Fred Weasley!" There was no mistaking him, even his smile reminded her of the boy in the portrait, the boy she'd known at Hogwarts, the boy who'd taken her to the sixth year Yule Ball.

"Yup," said Fred, striding around her to turn up the lights. "Why so surprised?" He slumped onto the sofa, lay one arm carelessly across the back of it, and looked up at Angelina. "I mean, I suppose it's been a long time since Hogwarts, but you don't look happy to see me at all. In fact, you look a little scared. I don't bite, really. Well, usually, anyway. There was that time in my third year, when Flint tried to steal George's hamburger, but that's a different story all together. Are you quite all right?"

Angelina was staring at him with a sort of dumb look on her face, not quite sure what to say. Then, finally, she bit her lip, and asked, "How do you find me? Where was I?" George chuckled.

"You were in my backyard, believe it or not. I mean, it's 5:00 in the afternoon, I go outside to get a little fresh air before it gets too dark, and what do I see but Angelina Johnson, stumbling around and walking into fenceposts. At first I thought you were a robber, but it was impossible to mistake your beautiful face, once you got closer." He winked. "You looked pretty done-in, so I figured you'd better get inside."

"And here I am," she finished, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Thanks, Fred. You've an uncanny knack for showing up exactly when you're needed." Fred stood up, and clapped a hand to Angelina's shoulder briefly, looking down at her with his usual smile.

"My pleasure, but don't do it again. Come on, are you hungry? You must be, you haven't eaten for twenty-four hours. Here, I'm sure I can dredge up something fit for you to eat...well, I hope I can." He walked into the kitchen, rummaging around in the cupboard for a few minutes. "Eh, looks like I'm wrong. Unless you want to eat these rather old moldy bread slices?" He pulled out a plastic bag, containing a few slices of rye bread that were looking a bit green. "No? I didn't think so." Fred shoved them back in, and closed the cupboard door with a resigned slam.

"Well, that only leaves one option, I suppose. Are you up for eating out? You're looking much better, but if you'd prefer to stay home, I could bring you back something." Angelina shook her head.

"I'd love to go out, if it's all right with you," she said mildly. "Unless, of course, we're walking. I think I've done quite enough of walking in the snow for now, thank you." Fred chortled, and disappeared around the corner into a closet. When he emerged, he was carrying her coat, which he gave her, before grabbing his own of the back of a kitchen chair.

"Off we go, then! We'll be driving, as I know this wonderful little muggle restaurant not far from here. Pretty cheap, also, sorry if I'm not a lavish host." But Angelina didn't mind at all. Today promised to be much more enjoyable than the one before it. After all, time spent with Fred Weasley was never boring.

And she was starving.

* * * * *

"So," asked Angelina, seated at a table in Graziella's Diner, biting off a chunk of her hamburger as she spoke, "What have you been up to lately? I haven't seen you since graduation. It doesn't seem like you to live all alone..."

"Mmmph mmrgle mumph murk!" Said Fred, through a large bit of hotdog that he was chewing.

"What?" Asked Angelina. "I didn't get a word of that."

"I said," Fred repeated, swallowing the food, "Don't talk with your mouth full. Anyway, I don't really live alone. I mean, I do, but George lives just down the street. We figured it wasn't good to live together, we'd probably end up in prison eventually, egging each other on and all." He grinned. "But now we've finally got our own joke shop, you know? Always wanted one, and we've got it, now. We can finally try out all of those new projects we've been working on."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "I never thought you'd actually get it, but I shouldn't be surprised. It's what you've always wanted, and I couldn't see you doing anything else. Can we go see George, later? I've missed both of you. Actually, I was on the way to Alicia Spinnet's dinner party when I got lost. I'm running into all kinds of old friends lately."

"So that's what you were doing out there," Fred said, nodding. "I was going to ask. And of course we'll go see George, I'm sure he'll be quite thrilled to see you. How is Alicia, anyway?"

Angelina finished the last bite of her hamburger, and crumpled up the paper wrapping, tossing it into the trash from her seat. "I don't know. I never got there. She probably didn't even notice I wasn't there, though, you know how she is."

"Too true." Fred stood up, and made for the door. "Well, are you coming? I thought you wanted to go see George!" Angelina followed him.

"What, right now?" She asked, a bit surprised.

"Sure, he'll be at the shop settling a few things. Of course I should be there too, but I figured I had an excuse." He grinned again.

"I didn't mean to keep you from your work," Angelina stammered. "I could go, now, if you've got more important things to do. Thanks for lunch, it was lovely." Fred grabbed her by the arm before she could slip by him.

"You're not keeping me from anything important, I promise. George is just fine at running things by himself. You've got to drive home with me, anyhow, because you can't exactly walk. Come back with me for a while, and if you're still set on going, I'll take you back to your house afterwards. I haven't seen you in three years, I'm not letting you go that easily."

So Angelina had nothing to do but get back in the car and drive off into the morning with Fred Weasley, past the houses of sleepy people on their Saturday morning schedules, most ready for a good long weekend. I've got nothing to look forward to, after this, Angelina realized. I've got no where to go but back to where I was, and where does that lead? Nowhere. I don't have anyone to welcome me when I get home. I'm unemployed, I don't even have anything to occupy my time. My weekends are the same as my weekdays, pointless, meaningless, droning days full of staring at the clock on the wall, wishing it was over. What am I doing?

Fred must have noticed her silence, because he squeezed her shoulder lightly, and said, "You all right, Angie?" Angelina started. No one had called her Angie since her school days, when that had been her nickname. But Fred had never called her that, actually...he'd called her...but that didn't matter now. That was long ago, so very long ago.

"I'm fine," she said reassuringly. "Just fine."

To be continued.