100 Prompts
Haunted-Mrs Weasley
It had been seven long years, very long dreary years. Years of pain, depression tears and solitude. Trying to find a way to grieve properly is always hard, but when it is your own child it is unbearable. Unbearable that someone so young has been taken away, one of your own, this is something any parent should never have to see. But why him? He was so, so young; so much ahead of him so many more days to live and adventures to have. Why not her, she would change places if she could these seven years had made her feel ancient, added another forty years to her and she felt closer than ever to her expiry date. She was cold, always so cold she drew the old patchwork blanket closer to her, inched closer to the log fire and rung her icy freckled hands. It was though he took her warmth with him in death, at least her love was with him this way. Oh, Freddie! My darling Freddie, why leave us so soon?
It wasn't that Fred was her favourite child. He wasn't. However, a parent should, as cliché, as it sounds, never have to outlive their child. One pair less of shoes by the front door, one less smile, one less child. He was never easy to deal with, but she would go over all the, arguments, battles and disappointments a million times over. As no disappointment is worse than waking up and realising that dream was only a dream and that Fred is still not here, and never will be again.
She grabbed at her earrings identical, perfect, beautiful, whole, completing each other. Imagine if she lost one it would never look right nobody wears one earring. It is never a conscious decision to have one without the other... you just don't do that! You can't split them, you just can't. It not right. She began to cry; no sob. It took an afternoon to be look and feel somewhat normal again.
The embers in front were dying, but Molly Weasley could not, she had to go on, life goes on she had to be there for her family. She sighed and in her moment of strength she pulled herself together to do that task that had been haunting her all day .The charade must go on, so she stood and pulled her brown wool coat from the coat hook and took a deep, deep breath exiting the burrow and plastered a false smile on her face and headed out to do the grocery shopping. Doing the weekly shop may not be a big deal when you live in the present, but when you are living in the happier brighter past even getting out of bed in the morning is a strenuous and dangerous task.