Three weeks later, Angelina died.
George had come home crying, needing my embrace, so I sat with him for hours, hugging him, his head resting on my chest.
He was mourning the loss of the woman he was once married to.
His first love.
Angelina had no one so George and I paid for the funeral. We called Fred home and I asked McGonagall to let Roxanne come home for a few days.
We told them that Angelina had died. We explained everything about her illness and Freddie cried — Roxanne didn't.
Two weeks after Angelina's death, we went to her funeral.
"Do you believe in heaven?" Roxanne asked me as we stepped through the door once we got home after the funeral.
I remember the conversation we once had where Roxi told me she didn't believe in heaven. She was five years old at the time.
"I don't know if I do." I told her honestly.
"Do you believe she's in a better place?" She then asked while Fred hurried through the house to walk up to his room.
"I do." I smiled at Roxi. "And if heaven exists, I'm sure that's where she is."
Roxanne hummed, walking further into the house while I looked at George who had taken a seat on the sofa in the entrance hall.
I pushed off my shoes and hung my jacket on the wall before I walked over and sat down next to him.
"Are you okay?" I asked, brushing my hand through his hair.
He leaned into my touch, sighing before he leaned back on the sofa.
"Yeah." He breathed, turning his head to look at me while I continued to brush my fingers through his hair.
"You can go take a nap if you'd like." I said. "I'll pick up the twins and I'll cook us all lunch."
He shook his head.
"I don't need a nap. What kind of husband would I be to leave my thirty weeks pregnant wife to pick up children and cook. I'll pick them up. It's fine."
He offered me a soft smile before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips, then placed his hand on my stomach, rubbing his thumb over it.
"I'm just happy that she didn't spend her last days all alone." He said. "And she got a proper funeral."
We weren't the only ones at the funeral. Her friends from school showed up. The people she played quidditch with showed up.
Fred showed up with Eloise. Lee and Alicia were there. A woman named Katie and a guy named Oliver. They were all there to say goodbye to her.
As George rubbed my bump, I felt a kick, right against his hand and he felt it too, because he chuckled, his face lighting up.
"She's kicking a lot these days." I said, placing my hand on top of his as she kicked again.
"This is the first time I've felt it." He muttered. "You think she recognises my voice?"
I nodded.
"I think she does." I said and looked at him, bringing a hand up to his neck which caused him to look at me.
I brushed my thumb over his cheekbone, wanting him to know that I was there, because even thought he was smiling right now, I knew that Angelina's death hurt him.
I would be the same if it was Malcolm. He may have treated me like shit but he was my first love.
"What do you want for lunch?" I asked. "I can order pizza?"
George chuckled and slipped his arms around my waist before leaning down to hide his face in the crook of my neck.
"Anything to not cook, huh?"
"Well, I hate cooking." I smiled weakly, running my hand up and down his back.
"Pizza sounds great." He whispered against my neck.
We sat like that for a while until we decided to get moving. George went to pick up the twins and I ordered pizza for the six of us.
The rest of the day went by rather slow. A certain sadness laid over the house. George and Freddie were most upset. They were the ones that had the most memories with her.
Roxanne only had bad memories of her. She wasn't as upset.
That night, Fred left to go back to his team. It was the end of November and he had a game in a few days.
The next morning, Roxanne travelled with me to Hogwarts. She went back to her classmates and I went to work.
Fred ordered George to take the week off so he was at home, resting.
When I sat in my office after teaching the second years about Ghouls, I stared at the photo of George that stood on my desk.
It was one I had taken of him a few years ago. He was smiling widely, laying in the grass in our garden one summer evening. His arm was behind his head and he was looking at the camera with one eye closed due to the sun.
It wasn't a moving picture but the memory still stood clear in my mind. It had been a happy day. I could still hear the way he laughed at a joke I said.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the picture to look at it. I smiled to myself as I stared at his face and how beautiful he looked.
I put the photo down again and pulled myself out of my chair, grabbing the two essays that two students had turned in.
They were a copy of each other. Not one word was different and I needed a word with those two students.
I left my office and pulled out my wand. After throwing a locking charm on the door, I used magic to open the door to the classroom so I could walk out.
It closed behind me and while pocketing my wand, I made my way down the spiral staircase, greeting the students that passed me.
I walked through the castle, eventually locating them as they watched the crowd of students in the corridor.
"Mr Potter..." I said, approaching them. "...Mr Malfoy. My office."
My nephew and his friend looked up at me, then at each other.
"Professor, we haven't done anything." Scorpius Malfoy said.
"I need to have a talk with the two of you about your essays on Ghouls." I said, waving the essays in the air before I turned around, leading the way back to my office and they followed me.
When I reached my office, I held the door open and the two boys walked in and took a seat across from my desk.
"So..." I closed the door behind me. "...your essays are an exact copy of each other."
They exchanged a glance as I walked to the other side of my desk and threw the essays on the surface.
"Who copied whose?"
Neither of them answered.
"Albus?" I asked and looked at my nephew.
He looked back at me and shrugged, causing me to sigh. My eyes moved to Scorpius who also just shrugged.
"Alright... well, then you can both redo them." I said. "I won't tell on you to your head of house or to your parents but you that requires for two essays to lay on my desk by the end of the week. Do you hear me?"
"Yes." They said in unison.
"Good." I offered them a smile. "You don't gain anything from copying others works. I've got experience with that. I reckon you both want to pass your O.W.L.s at the end of the school year, right?"
"Yes." They once again said in unison.
"Then no more copying." I breathed. "I was honestly surprised when I saw it. Neither of you are dumb. You should've known you would've got caught."
