DISCLAIMER: All of the places and characters in this story belong to the genius Ms. J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made from this story. It only serves to (hopefully) entertain.

Lingering Clouds

The weather had been lovely for the party. The sun had shined all day from a semi-clouded blue sky, and a light breeze played with the trees surrounding the yard. It had been a real improvement from the past couple of years: last year, it rained all day, and it had been extremely windy and chilly the year before that. Everyone was so excited that the weather was decent enough to have the party outside this year.

But Angelina still didn't go. Instead, she laid in bed thinking about him for the entire day, twisting the wedding band on her finger, but she never cried once. Angelina was never the crying type. Sometimes her heart literally hurt, and sometimes she felt like her body was going to break and collapse, but tears never came. He wouldn't have wanted her to cry, anyway.

She felt bad for not going to the party, but she knew the family would understand. Everyone knew she hadn't been feeling well in recent weeks, what with barely sleeping at night and waking up nauseous every morning, and she assumed that's what George told everyone once he got there. It was true that she wasn't feeling too great, but it was a lie just the same. A bit of nausea wasn't why she was missing Victoire's fourth birthday party, and she knew it. George knew it, too.

The house was completely silent, so at about eight o'clock, she could clearly hear the front door open downstairs when George arrived back home. He hadn't been surprised when Angelina told him that she'd rather stay home than go with him to Shell Cottage. She suspected that if he could have, he would have stayed home, too, but he just couldn't miss his goddaughter's special day. Angelina heard footsteps ascending the stairs, followed by their bedroom door opening. George stepped in and their eyes met. He gave her a half-hearted smile, and she gave her best effort to return the favor. After stepping out of his shoes and changing into some pajamas, George laid down on the bed next to his wife, snuggling up behind her the way he always did. He wrapped his arm comfortingly around her middle.

She felt a lump grow in her throat as George began to gently rub her belly, which was round with their first child, through the silky fabric of her black nightgown. This alone made her want to cry, though she knew she never would. She knew having a baby was supposed to be one of the most joyous occasions in life. Angelina had seen how happy Fleur and Audrey were during their pregnancies, and she imagined that she would be, too, if hers was the way it was supposed to be.

But it wasn't. Hers was all wrong. Everything in her life was wrong.

George sensed her tensing up, so he gently kissed the skin of her exposed shoulder where the strap of her nightgown had slipped a little.

"I really wish there was something I could do," George whispered in her ear.

She knew he meant it with all of his heart, but that didn't change anything, because there really was nothing anyone could do. Though she knew George knew exactly what was wrong, she said it anyway, choking a little on her words.

"I know, but you're not Fred."

She felt horrible for admitting it out loud, but she couldn't help what she felt. She thought that maybe saying it would make her feel better, but it didn't. The fact remained that Angelina's heart would always be Fred's. The two of them had planned to marry after the war. They wanted to settle down in lovely little house in the countryside, and eventually fill it with children. But that dream died with him, as did part of her soul, and now she was doing all of those things with George. While he was a wonderful husband, Angelina knew she'd never truly be happy without Fred. She just hoped George understood.

And George did understand. Her words stung and ripped his heart in two, but he understood just the same. He, too, had lost the love of his life on that horrendous night six years before. Fred was his best friend, his twin, his better half...George could never be truly happy again when half of him was gone. He had been in a serious relationship with Katie at the time the war ended – they had even talked about marrying one day – but George's grief over his fallen twin had spoiled his love for her. To George, love was happiness, and how could he possibly be happy without Fred around?

George knew that Angelina would never love him in the way she loved Fred, and he never expected her to. The two of them did love each other in a way, but it wasn't a romantic love and it never had been. It was a friendly love, a love born out of convenience, and that much had been understood by each of them from the very beginning. They had both hoped that somehow marriage would fix their heartache. Angelina married to remember her lost love, and George married to forget what he'd lost and begin to rebuild his life.

It didn't work. If anything, it did the complete opposite of what they had hoped for. Day after day, seeing George just reminded Angelina of the reality that Fred would never return, while the sadness constantly lingering in her eyes revived George's own feelings of emptiness in his heart.

The only thing keeping them going was the child they'd created. Angelina covered George's hand with her own. Despite her brutally honest words, he'd never ceased rubbing her swollen belly. Their situation wasn't the most desirable, but they already loved that child more than they could have ever imagined. Somehow they both knew that he or she would bring happiness back into their hearts and that their lives would have meaning once again.

But Angelina knew there would always be something missing. George didn't know it, but she secretly wished that this baby would make the love between her and George blossom into what it should be. She wanted the two of them to be genuinely happy together in the way married couples were. She wanted for once to have a purely sunny day. She wanted her life to be normal, if only for a day, but she knew that was false hope. It would never happen when her only true love was dead. Things would never be the way they were supposed to be.

It broke her heart, but she had to keep going for the child she was carrying, and she would never let him or her go without happiness or love. That much she was sure of.

Author's Note: This was written for Hermione's Harmony's 'Woman in Black' Challenge on the HPFC forum. My lead female character had to be shown wearing black, and each character in the story was only allowed to have one line of dialogue. Oh, and it was supposed to be depressing. :-/

It was hard for me to put Angelina and George through such anguish, but that's what challenges are for.