The red haired woman was sitting in her bedroom, unable to concentrate on anything in particular. It was cold and freezing drizzle fell throughout the day. The Wizarding Wireless was on for the first time in many months, but it was just background noise, she had not paid attention to what was playing, even though it was her favorite music and had been the one thing in her life for the past few years that brought her any comfort, but today even the music could not ease the empty feelings inside her.
The people she knew, all had lives of their own,and were fully consumed in living them, but Molly Weasley, life did not exist. She lived and breathed, but it was a mere existence, instead of an actual life. The Floo Call updates kept coming, but not one was of any real consequence. Other people were out and about, Christmas Shopping, or spending time with family, Molly sat a cold desk, scratching away with a quill on parchment, pouring words, from what was left of her heart, the shriveled bit of her left after her world crashed five years earlier.
A mother is never supposed to have to bury their child, but that is what happened to Molly, when her son Fred died suddenly, during the war. The first months were hard, but the numbness that filled her made it easier to just move about. With the passing of time when everyone says things will get easier, WRONG, the holiday season would be unbearable, never getting easier.
There would be no Christmas tree, not after the first year, when she put up so many lights, so Fred could see them from heaven. It hurt too much to try and carry on as if things were normal. The tears would fall from the slightest provocation. A careless word or prank from well meaning people, would find her slipping off somewhere private to weep. No one understood why, she wanted to be alone, the pain was too much to share, even with her husband of many years.
A mother who failed at protecting her children from danger, had no reason to be happy. Molly had to accept that fact, she would never be happy again.