Chapter Seven: The Passing of Time

Angelina Johnson was twenty-six years old and she had waited a long time for her wedding day. Montague was gone, he never come back after leaving her alone in his family's winter home. There were only a handful of people who knew he was in the Order. Of those few, many thought he had betrayed them, the other's thought he had died fighting for their cause.

Angelina did not want to think he had betrayed the Order, because betraying the Order meant he betrayed her and her mind could not register that. So he could only be dead. "You look beautiful mama."

Angelina turned to her seven year old daughter. "Thank you baby." Angelina smiled happily, but it was a lie, because inside she felt dead and empty, she had been since her last year at Hogwarts. Fred taking off before the end of the school year, destroyed her and she never quite recovered from it. Unlike Montague though, Fred came back into her life and things were good. But both Fred and Montague had taught her one thing in their absence, they had taught her to be a better liar.

Now not even George Weasley could tell when she was lying anymore and he had always been able to see right through her. Angelina kissed her daughter whom she loved deeply. "Run off and get in position Julie, we should be starting soon," Julie did as she was told.

Angelina took one last look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the Slytherin like jewel around her neck. She reached around her neck and took it off, determined that this would be the last time she ever took it off. "You got to let it go," she looked at it in her hand. "You have to let him go," she dropped it in a tiny box and put in on a table next to her.

She stood up and took a deep breath. She grabbed her bouquet and headed towards the door. Within moments she would be Mrs. Fred Weasley; after all they had been through, Angelina honestly thought they would never get to this point in their lives. But she had to admit, she loved Fred Weasley, even after everything.

Time seemed to move so slowly as she walked down the aisle and stood before the priest, next to Fred. What more could she ask for? Fred was the father of her child and he loved her and their daughter more than anything, she never doubted that. So what more could she possibly want? What more could she possibly need?

She sat at her reception with her husband and wedding party, laughing and talking about old times. I can do this, she thought, I can be happy, it's okay to be happy. Because sitting with her old Quidditch team did made her happy as she remembered things she had not thought of in years. The rush of wind in her face, the thrill of the game, the cheer of the crowd, and she wondered why she had forgotten those things. Then that last game came to mind, that last game with Montague and the feeling of abandonment returned and she shifted uneasily in her seat.

Fred noticed this and took her hand. He gave her the sweetest smile as happiness filled his eyes. He finally had the one thing his heart always desired, the love of an angel. He kissed her hand and signaled for the DJ to start the music. "Shall we dance, love?" he stood.

She nodded her head and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. The music began to play and Angelina felt certain she had never heard the song before, but the words sounded so familiar.

Laying beside you here in the dark, feeling your heartbeat with mine.

Softy you whisper, you're so sincere, how could our love be so blind?

We sailed off together, we drifted apart, and here you are by my side.

So now I come to you with open arms, nothing to hide, believe what I say.

So here I am with open arms hoping you'll see, what your love means to me. . . open arms.

It sounded as if it had come from a dream, it was beautiful, but no matter how hard she thought, she couldn't quite place it. By the time the second verse had set in, the feeling had left her. So she concentrated on Fred, on his touch, his feel, his scent; she was glad to have him back. I will not want, what I can not have, she thought. So let the dead rest in peace and finally allow my heart to be happy with the man who loved me enough to come back.

Living without you, living alone, this empty house seems so cold.

Wanting to hold you, wanting you near, how much I wanted you home.

But now that you've come back, turn night into day, I need you here to stay.

So now I come to you with open arms, nothing to hide, believe what I say.

So here I am with open arms hoping you'll see, what your love means to me . . .open arms.

Then all of a sudden there was a loud burst, an explosion filled the room. The room shook and debris fell from above. Fred covered Angelina's head as they dropped to the floor. The room was then coated in a thick fog. There were screams heard all around, but it was one scream that pierced through the ears of Fred and Angelina. "Julie!" they both yelled.

The entire wall on the east side of the building was completely gone. What stood in it's place were dozens of Death Eaters. They rushed into the reception hall like a plague. The once bright and cheery place, had become cold with a death's touch.

"Find Julie!" Angelina demanded.

"I won't leave you," Fred shook his head.

"Find our child, Fred," her tone was pleading and reluctantly Fred let go of his wife, stood up, pulled out his wand, and searched the instant battle ground for his young daughter.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Johnson, or should I say Weasley now?" the voice was full of malice.

Angelina stood up. She couldn't see his face, but she immediately recognized his voice. "What's the meaning of this, Malfoy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he swiftly grabbed her and blew a green dust in her face. Angelina struggled, but Malfoy had a tight grip on her. All of a sudden she felt dizzy and the room started spinning and finally everything went black.

OoOoO

Angelina put her hand on her head, she gave a little moan as she sat up and opened her eyes. "You've been out half the day, I was starting to worry." Angelina couldn't believe her eyes as she thought, He's alive. "Are you comfortable?" Montague stood a few feet from the end of the king size bed.

"Traitor!" she spat. "I should have let you die that day," she defended him, when other's turned against him, saying he had betrayed the Order. She hoped it wasn't true, but knew now that it was.

"I never betrayed the Order! I'm still under Dumbledore's command. I could only gain the trust of the inner-circle if I never came back. You knew what this life entailed when you asked me to help. Everything I've done here, I've done for you and the Order!" he started shouting louder. "You needed me and I was there!"

"I needed you and you left me! You told me you were coming back!"

"I couldn't. I tried. There is always someone watching. Always someone willing to rat you out to move further up the chain. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder. I can't trust anyone! Not even the people I know are spies for the Order, like Malfoy for instance. I trust him as far as I can throw him. Don't you see, I spared you this life! I did what needed to be done!" he shook his head slowly and calmed himself. "You told me once you wouldn't fault me for that."

Angelina stared blankly at him. "What the hell did I know? We were only children."

"No, we had to grow up fast, we were at war Johnson and we still are."

"I mourned you, David," she said softly. "I thought you were dead. Why was I not told? Why didn't Dumbledore tell me? Am I one of the people you can't trust?"

"Yes!" he shouted. "I could not trust you to stay away, because if you knew I was alive, would you have come looking for me?"

"Yes," she said boldly.

"And do you know where that would have gotten you, Johnson? Dead. And just like you couldn't watch me die, I wasn't willing to watch you die. You had to be left in the dark."

"You arrogant prat," she looked at him in disbelief. "What am I, some porcelain doll? I could have handled it Montague, I could have handled anything. But if I remember correctly, you pushed me away. You didn't have to do this by yourself. You didn't have to be alone," She then turned her head away from him. "I mean, don't you understand?"

He looked at her for a moment, replaying her words in his head. "I do. Because I've missed you too," he held out his arms. "Angelina," he called softly.

She looked up and saw his open arms. This was the man she thought had betrayed her, the man who had abandoned her, not once, but twice. This was the man who had taught her to put on a happy face when all she felt was sadness. This was the man she had finally been able to let go. This was the man, who without knowing it, broke her heart when she realized he wasn't coming back.

Yet there he stood, in front of her with open arms, still wearing his Death Eater robe; yet Angelina hesitated not one moment as she threw back the covers, jumped up on the bed, ran down it, and practically pounced on him. He spun her around in his arms, which had ached for her for years. Her feet soon touched the ground, but Montague still had a tight hold on her. "Don't you dare let me go," she commanded as she noticed something strange about Montague, he felt warm. His body was welcoming towards her, no longer stiff and with an ice like touch.

"Don't worry, I wasn't even thinking about it." And he felt her body melt into his and he realized this was the first time he had ever touched her without her shivering.

"God, I've missed you," she said breathlessly as she ran her fingers through his black wavy hair.

For a while they said and did nothing but hold one another and then finally Montague spoke. "We don't have much time," he pulled away and looked at Angelina standing before him. He noticed that her wedding dress was seared and full of wrinkles, that her make-up was smudged, that her hair was a mess, her veil was torn beyond recognition, and that she wore a sad expression upon her face. But he still thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"There's never enough time is there?" she said as she watched him pull something out of his pocket.

"I think you dropped this," he smiled handing her a tiny box. "Don't throw us away yet."

Angelina took out her necklace and Montague helped her put it back in its proper place. "Why now? Why not just let me continue to think you were dead?" she had decided not to ask, why of all days did he chose her wedding day? He looked away from her, almost embarrassed. "Montague?"

"I guess this is going to sound selfish," he began. "But we had finally repaired what we once had and I walked away from it, from us, from you," he looked to the floor. "I guess what I'm trying to say is," he paused. "I just needed to see you."

Angelina smiled at his words. "So where do we go from here?" she asked as she went to touch his face.

He turned his head to avoid her touch and she pulled her hand back in. "You go back to your husband and child," his whole tone had changed in a matter of seconds. "Never mention you saw me," his voice was like acid as he took a step back. He turned around and walked towards the door.

She caught him before he reached it and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come with me," she begged. "You're only going to get yourself killed if you go back."

"You know I can't come with you. I can only do my part on the inside," he turned around to face her. "Trust me."

"I do. With my life."

Montague's face was emotionless, but a tear still managed to escape his eye. "This maybe the last time we ever see each other."

"A fate worse than death," tears ran down her face and Montague allowed her to embrace him.

He wrapped his arms around her slowly, savoring the moment. Please, he prayed. Give me the strength to let her go. He then took a step back and for the last time looked deeply into her brown soothing eyes, so majestic in their nature. "Go home now, Johnson." Just tell her. He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek, her neck, and touched her necklace.

Angelina took the simple gold ring band off her finger and placed it on Montague's pinky finger. She gave a heavy sigh hoping it would stop her from crying. "David, I. . ." she stopped. It's too late. She took a step back. "Goodbye, Montague." And with that she Apparated home.

Montague stared at the wedding band around his pinky. "Goodbye, my Capulet," the tear he had shed fell off his cheek. "I love you too." And he Apparated out of the room before his tear drop touched the floor. And the room was silent, left cold and deprived of life.

Like Montague predicted, they never saw each other again, but they lived on in the memory of each other's heart until both of their dying days. Their story was one of lies, betrayal, deceit, and forgiveness, but most of all, their story was a story of love. A kind of love that picks you up only so that it can tear you down. Their lives were no fairy tale, and neither was their story, because living without the one you love, who loves you in return, can only be considered a tragedy.

THE END