Prologue
I never thought I'd be standing here, with everything on the line, and her news being the one thing that made me forget the war outside.
Angelina stood in front of me, having pulled me away from talking to George. She looked anxious, and understandably so. We were about to fight You-Know-Who, for Merlin's sake. Anybody would be shivering in their boots. But Angelina?
She had a whole different reason.
"W-what?" I spluttered, lost for words, for once.
"I'm pregnant, Fred." She repeated the news quietly. She tucked a braid behind her ear and looked away, brows furrowed.
Merlin, she was bloody beautiful.
"Well, this is great news! I'm going to be a dad! Fred Jr, running the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, his dad by his side—"
"Why aren't you taking this seriously?!" Angelina interjected, her eyebrows knitting together even harder, her brown skin reflecting the eerie moonlight glow. "Fred, we're too young for this! And who said it's going to be a boy?!"
"Right. Sorry, my beautiful Angie." I take her by the waist and pull her closer, watching her pretty face relax. "If it's a girl, then... Fredina!"
"Fredina?" Angelina pulled back slightly to glare at me.
"Or Sparkle Weasley? Has a ring to it, doesn't it?"
"Fred."
"Okay, okay. Something classic, then. Merlinette. Or... Gilderoy—works either way, boy or girl!"
"Fred!"
I grinned. "Fine, how about Pudding? Pudding Weasley. Now that's a name with character!"
"Fred Weasley, I swear to Merlin, if you don't start taking this seriously—"
"Alright, alright!" I held up my hands in mock surrender, though the laugh bubbling in my chest refused to be contained. Then I took a breath, my voice softening. "How about... Angelica?"
Angelina froze, her eyes widening slightly as she looked up at me.
"Angelica," I repeated, quieter this time. "It's close to your name, but not quite the same. Strong. Beautiful. Like you."
Her lips parted as if to say something, but she closed them again, her brow furrowing in that way that always made my chest ache. Finally, she shook her head, a small, wobbly smile playing at her lips. "You're such a sap."
"And you love me for it," I murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Shut up, Fred," she mumbled, though she buried her head in my chest. "A bloody war's about to start, your fiancée's about to have a baby, and you're still mucking about." She continued. I didn't reply, just taking in her scent, her warmth, her everything. I was going to be a father. And that meant protecting my child, and its mother.
"Angelina, I-" Angelina looked up at me with those soft, brown eyes, and I wondered how I'd gotten this lucky. I pause, staring at her as she looked up at me.
Merlin, what do I even say to this?
"Maybe you shouldn't go out there."
"What?" she asks, her head snapping up from my chest.
"I'm serious, Angie," I say softly, placing my hands on her shoulders. "You're pregnant. With our baby. You don't have to fight. Just—just stay back. Stay safe. For the baby." She blinked, before her expression hardened.
"No."
"Angelina, you're pregnant."
"I'm aware."
"You can't fight."
Her eyes widen for a moment before narrowing, and I can practically feel the fire coming off her. "Don't you dare," she says in a low, dangerous voice.
"Don't I dare what?" I ask, stepping back slightly, my hands raised in surrender.
"Don't you dare try to stop me. Fred, everyone I love is fighting out there. You. George. Lee. Alicia. Katie. Everyone." Her voice trembles, but it doesn't falter. "What kind of person would I be if I just stayed behind and let all of you risk your lives while I cowered away?"
"Not cowering," I correct quickly, but she barrels on.
"I'm going to fight. Not just for you. Not just for George or our friends or the bloody school. I'm going to fight for this baby too, Fred. Because I want them to have a world worth living in. A world where You-Know-Who isn't in power and people like us—people like me—don't have to live in fear anymore."
My throat tightens, and I don't know whether to be furious or proud. Godric, she's so bloody stubborn. So brave. So... Angelina.
"But what if something happens to you?" I say quietly. The words leave me before I can stop them, my voice cracking at the end.
Her face softens, just slightly, as she steps closer and takes my hands. "Then you'll tell them I fought for something worth believing in."
I shake my head, my grip tightening around her fingers. "You're mad, Angie. Completely mental."
She smiles, a small, bittersweet curve of her lips, and reaches up to brush the hair from my face. "That's why you love me."
"I do," I whisper. I lean down and kiss her, holding onto her as if she might slip through my fingers. When I pull away, my forehead rests against hers. "But promise me you'll stay close. Don't do anything stupidly heroic, alright? Leave that to me and George."
"You're both already stupid," she mutters, her smile growing.
"I'm serious," I insist, though I can't help the grin tugging at my lips.
“I promise, Fred,” she says softly. And for now, I let that be enough.