A/N: Yup, I know. Long wait. I'm done apologizing. Let's face the facts - I'm slow. But I hope you still enjoy!

Fifteen

Fifteen steps.

How could something so small, so simple, so ordinary, suddenly seem so insurmountable? So overwhelming?

So bloody scary?

Fifteen steps.

That was all. So worn and creaky. The second one up squeaks like a scared house elf. The eighth one has a loose nail that George always says he will get to, but never does. And at the top…

Fifteen little steps.

Yet they might as well be a mountain.

They were friends. Friends spent time together, did things together. They went out for lunch and drinks, watched Quidditch and played pranks. They talked, laughed, and lived with a complete and total sense of comfort and affection.

As friends.

So why did those fifteen steps leading up to his flat suddenly feel like so much more?

He'd asked if she wanted to grab some dinner, just like always. She'd said yes, just like always.

But now, at that moment, it was different.

Fifteen steps. Fifteen heart pounding, palm sweating, nerve racking, life changing steps.

Because, for the first time, she stood there not at the bottom of Fred and George's flat.

It was George's flat.

It was George.

Clenching her fists at her side, Angelina took a breath, took a step, and knew that nothing would ever be the same.