You're Not Here (Fred/Astoria)
Title: You're Not Here
Prompt: 022. Stolen Moments
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
Characters: Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, George Weasley, Angelina Johnson
Summary: ...Astoria goes to Fred's funeral.
Notes/Warnings: Written for xxjinxxx... I apologize for any strange characterizations, really >.>
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling. But quite modified in most cases by their individual writers at Founders or my perception of them.
Astoria Greengrass did not take part in the Battle of Hogwarts. She did not take sides and knew better than to stick her nose in when Death Eaters were involved... but as she joined the flow of students leaving the castle - as they had been told to do - her eyes went back to the Gryffindor table. He was staying. A cold hand of fear wrapped around her throat and she raised her hand a little before snapping it back down along with her eyes, watching the floor as it changed. She was running, he was staying. They were that different.
She was sitting at the Greengrass manor, arms wrapped around her knees, when her sister came in. Daphne had never understood what Astoria saw in Fred Weasley and she knew that she never would, but they did not talk about it. Just as they did not talk of Evan. "Astoria..." she started, concern in her voice and a piece of parchment in her hands. "I'm sorry." She held out the parchment, but Astoria fixed her eyes on her and shook her head. She did not want to look at the letter, she did not want to read it. If she did not read it then it was not real.
If she did not go to the funeral then it was not real. But there she was, standing at the coffin, fingers curled over the edge as she looked at his smooth, pale, cold face. "That's not right, he's not smiling," she said quietly, reaching out and flinching back at the waxy feel of it. Fred was never not smiling, he always smiled. She wondered if he had been smiling when it had happened. A smile came to her own face as she thought of how it might have been. Fred smiling as he was fighting, perhaps even joking as he could not help but do, right up until the end...
"You know," an all-too familiar voice said from her side. Astoria's heart went to her throat when she turned to look at George. So much like Fred. Yet so different. His hand was in that of a black Gryffindor for one and he had always looked just the slightest different for another. "You should have stayed. You should have fought."
"George," the young woman remarked. Was her name Angelina? Astoria could never remember anything other than it started with the same letter as her own. "Don't do this here."
"Should have," George repeated, bloodshot eyes on Astoria's face, then one the necklace that she was wearing. He made a disgusted noise. "Shouldn't wear that when you couldn't even stand with him. Don't know why you're here."
The words were like barbs going under her skin, each true, but that did not register on her face. She was enough of a Slytherin to keep her face smooth and her eyes cold no matter how much it hurt. "I'm here because I love him," she said quietly, haughtily. "Same reason as everyone else."
The girl gave her a quiet smile, touching her hand lightly before pulling George away. Astoria heard him crying as he went. She turned back to the man in the coffin, hand going to undo the clasp of the necklace she was wearing. She slipped it into the pocket of the jacket that he was wearing, smoothing it down as her vision blurred. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough to be there," she whispered to the cold face, turning to return to her seat at the back of the room.
She did not belong with the family.
Prompt: 022. Stolen Moments
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
Characters: Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, George Weasley, Angelina Johnson
Summary: ...Astoria goes to Fred's funeral.
Notes/Warnings: Written for xxjinxxx... I apologize for any strange characterizations, really >.>
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling. But quite modified in most cases by their individual writers at Founders or my perception of them.
Astoria Greengrass did not take part in the Battle of Hogwarts. She did not take sides and knew better than to stick her nose in when Death Eaters were involved... but as she joined the flow of students leaving the castle - as they had been told to do - her eyes went back to the Gryffindor table. He was staying. A cold hand of fear wrapped around her throat and she raised her hand a little before snapping it back down along with her eyes, watching the floor as it changed. She was running, he was staying. They were that different.
She was sitting at the Greengrass manor, arms wrapped around her knees, when her sister came in. Daphne had never understood what Astoria saw in Fred Weasley and she knew that she never would, but they did not talk about it. Just as they did not talk of Evan. "Astoria..." she started, concern in her voice and a piece of parchment in her hands. "I'm sorry." She held out the parchment, but Astoria fixed her eyes on her and shook her head. She did not want to look at the letter, she did not want to read it. If she did not read it then it was not real.
If she did not go to the funeral then it was not real. But there she was, standing at the coffin, fingers curled over the edge as she looked at his smooth, pale, cold face. "That's not right, he's not smiling," she said quietly, reaching out and flinching back at the waxy feel of it. Fred was never not smiling, he always smiled. She wondered if he had been smiling when it had happened. A smile came to her own face as she thought of how it might have been. Fred smiling as he was fighting, perhaps even joking as he could not help but do, right up until the end...
"You know," an all-too familiar voice said from her side. Astoria's heart went to her throat when she turned to look at George. So much like Fred. Yet so different. His hand was in that of a black Gryffindor for one and he had always looked just the slightest different for another. "You should have stayed. You should have fought."
"George," the young woman remarked. Was her name Angelina? Astoria could never remember anything other than it started with the same letter as her own. "Don't do this here."
"Should have," George repeated, bloodshot eyes on Astoria's face, then one the necklace that she was wearing. He made a disgusted noise. "Shouldn't wear that when you couldn't even stand with him. Don't know why you're here."
The words were like barbs going under her skin, each true, but that did not register on her face. She was enough of a Slytherin to keep her face smooth and her eyes cold no matter how much it hurt. "I'm here because I love him," she said quietly, haughtily. "Same reason as everyone else."
The girl gave her a quiet smile, touching her hand lightly before pulling George away. Astoria heard him crying as he went. She turned back to the man in the coffin, hand going to undo the clasp of the necklace she was wearing. She slipped it into the pocket of the jacket that he was wearing, smoothing it down as her vision blurred. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough to be there," she whispered to the cold face, turning to return to her seat at the back of the room.
She did not belong with the family.