A/N: this is a one shot so people can have a little treat while i study for exams. It was done a while ago for a contest and the aim was to tap into a personal memory and use it. So i did. I hope you like and i get some reviews.
A chaste ray of light swarmed into the hospital wing at Hogwarts, clearing all sullen darkness in its path. The hospital was full of wizards and witches who had been injured during the horrific battle against Hogwarts by Death Eaters. Most of the occupants were starting to get some well-needed sleep after the emotional stress that the day's events had caused them. Dumbledore's emotional funeral had taken place during the day. Even those who were injured had attended. Some of them were distraught and heartbroken as they fell to sleep. It wasn't only because a great wizard had passes, it was also because it was to be their last night in Hogwarts before they were either sent home or to St Mango's and who knew if the school would ever be open again.
Bill Weasely was on his side, leaning on his shoulder and resting his head in his right hand. He watched the way the moon made Fleur Delacour's silvery hair shine with all poise and beauty. He smiled slightly at her dozing frame and was glad she had decided to stay with him until the morning. She was more than everyone thought she was, she was Bill's angel and she had shown that she wasn't dense and a snob, she was committed and caring.
Bill glanced out of the window a watched Dumbledore's phoenix Fawkes glide over the grounds. The funeral in it's own right had been moving for not only Bill but everyone who had attended, whether they had known Dumbledore personally or had heard about him. However, the funeral had brought back memories to Bill of a funeral that he had attended when he was only five years old. Bill had been trying for years to wipe away the funeral from his mind for years now but it still haunted him in his waking hours and sleep.
Bill rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, remembering the funeral of Fabian and Gideon Prewett, Bill's uncles.
Little Bill Weasely sat at the kitchen table in silence as his mother tidied his hair, tears falling from her cheeks. Arthur Weasely was busy feeding three-year-old Charlie and making sure, their newborn, Percy, was sound asleep.
"How long will this thing go for Mummy?" Bill asked.
Molly begun to smooth out the creases in Bill's dark blue dress cloak.
"I am not sure, darling." She said softly glancing up at the clock. Bill wanted to ask more about their trip today but by the stern look from Arthur when he went to speak, he knew not too.
Bill watched his little brother Charlie, who was attempting to eat the spoon, rather than the food that Arthur was feeding him. Charlie giggled as Arthur told him to eat properly. Bill sighed. Charlie was only a toddler, he did not comprehend that today they were attending a funeral for two men who Bill thought, "Were the best Uncles in the world."
Bill had been very miserable when his mother had announced the death of his uncles. She had told him that they had died "A hero's death against, He who must not be named." Bill told his mother in blind bravery that one day he would battle those who help, he who must be named and maybe even kill the monster himself. Molly had embraced her son with all her might and had told him that by the time Bill was old enough to fight, He must not be named would be long dead and Bill would be free to marry a beautiful witch and have many beautiful children. Bill had gagged at the suggestion and Molly had chuckled.
"I think we better be heading off Arthur." Molly said to her husband. Arthur nodded and took Charlie out of his highchair.
"Party?" Charlie asked innocently as he watched his parents prepare to leave. Bill walked over to where Charlie was standing and shook his head.
"No it's not a party." Bill told his little brother, Charlie pouted.
"That's boring." Charlie groaned as Arthur took both boys hands. Molly was holding Percy.
"Ready Molly?" Arthur asked. Molly nodded and the five Weasely's made their way to the funeral.
The Weasely's arrived at a large farmhouse. The bricks were bright red yet were covered by vines that slithered their way along the front veranda. Bill looked up at his mother's childhood home and it dawned to him that he would never see his Uncles flying in the sky above the farm. A lonely tear ran down Bill's innocent face.
Arthur noticed and squeezed his son's hand.
"Come on, stay strong for Mummy." Arthur whispered inclining his head to Molly who was trying to keep her composure.
Bill nodded and wiped away his tear.
"Yes Daddy."
Arthur smiled
"That's my boy." Arthur said softly as they walked up the gravel garden path.
Bill walked into his grandparent's house and was told to sit patiently with Charlie, Percy and his ten year old cousin, (who was Gideon's daughter) Nicole in the lounge room as the adults attended to something. After a couple of minutes of sitting patiently, Bill started to become restless. He stood up.
"Where are you going?" Nicole asked through her tears.
"To the toilet." Bill lied.
His cousin nodded and continued to weep silently.
Bill made his way down the dark hall to his mother's old bedroom where the adults were. He slowly pushed open the door to see two coffins next to each other and they were open. Family members were crowded around them, crying and placing flowers in the open caskets. Bill make his way to the caskets unnoticed yelped at the sight he saw in one of the coffins.
There laid his Uncle Fabian, eyes closed shut, skin a sickly white and his hands resting on top of each other on his stomach. Scars were all over his body yet he looked at peace. Bill reached out and touched his unless dead body, it was like touching ice.
"Bill!" Molly shouted at the sight of her son. Bill looked up to see his mother rushing over to him and taking him by the hand and out of the room.
"I told you to stay in the lounge." Molly snapped.
Bill hung his head.
"I just wanted to see what was going on. Why can all the adults say goodbye and us kids can't? We will miss them too." Bill whispered looking down at his shoes.
Molly sighed and ruffled her son's hair.
"I know darling, I know."
Bill wiped away a tear that tried to escape. Everytime he was cold or there was a chill in the air, the sight of those young dead bodies danced before his eyes. He sicken him to think that his mother's declaration that Bill would never had to fight Voldemort, had never come true. So many years after his Uncles had knocked on heavens door, he had nearly done the same.
Bill looked over at Fleur who was still sleeping and declared to himself that at all costs that he would keep her safe, for he was going to marry the French beauty and one day be the father of her children. Bill smirked to himself; it was ironic that the one thing he had thought was repulsive was about to happen.
Yet no matter what, Bill was going to fight to survive. He didn't want his children to grown up not knowing their father, like Nicole and Harry Potter. He was going to fight the battle that his mother had wished would never come before him. He was going to do all he could to help kill Voldemort even though he had been badly hurt. It was his deed to Fleur, his friends and family and to his Uncles, the heroes before him.