A.N. - I'm sorry if I got Fred's birthday wrong and I was too lazy to look up his middle name and to fine out the exact day of his death/Battle of Hogwarts. Please tell me what you think! Thanks! (Don't own anything except Emma! Wish I did though!)
What's That?
"What's that, Uncle George?" Little Emma Weasley asked, pointing towards a large stone.
George turned to see where his niece was pointing.
A simple gray stone is where she pointed, standing near the orchard.
Standing about 3 feet high it stated,
Fredrick Weasley
April 1st 1978 – June 1997
Beloved Son, Beloved Brother, Beloved Friend
"That is your Uncle Fred's headstone." George told her calmly.
He sat down in the grass next to her when she turned to look up at him quizzically.
"What's a headstone?"
"It's his grave marker."
"His grave marker…?" she questioned quietly. Touching her fingers to her lips she whispered, "Is Uncle Fred…dead?" she looked up at her uncle, her blue eyes large and full of curiosity.
"Yes, yes he is, love." George whispered, running a hand through his niece's unruly curls.
"Do you miss him?" she asked shyly.
George chuckled softly, "Everyday."
"Did he die in The War?" she asked suddenly, chewing on her bottom lip.
Looking down at his niece, who he believed to be as perceptive and clever as her mother, he answered,
"Yes, he did…at the Battle of Hogwarts."
Sadness consumed him as he listened to his niece speak.
"Was he funny like you, Uncle George?" she asked her uncle, crawling up to him and wrapping her arm around his.
"Oh, much more than I am," he laughed. "and much more handsome."
Emma giggled, "You're twins! You looked just like him!"
George chuckled once again, "I suppose you're right Emma, dear."
"Do you think Uncle Fred would've liked me?" Emma's soft voice spoke.
"What?" George asked incredously.
"I'm not as funny as Freddie and James. Or as smart as Rosie and Roxy. Or as pretty as Victorie and Lily!" Emma muttered, her face growing into a lovely Weasley red.
"Your Uncle Fred would have loved you to pieces!" George exclaimed.
"Really?" She asked a small smile appearing.
"Positive!" George smiled.
"George! Emma! Darlings!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Dinner is ready!"
"Alright, Mum!" George shouted back.
As George stood he dragged Emma up with him. Squirming in his arms Emma said, "Wait!"
After letting her down he watched her wander towards the forest near the orchard.
Gathering wildflowers, daises, and dandelions little Emma set them before her Uncle's grave.
"I love you Uncle Fred." She told the grave before giving the headstone a light kiss.
"Ready, Uncle George?" Emma asked, walking up to him.
"Yes, my love." Picking her up and holding her close. "Let's go see our family."
"Yes!" she smiled, hugging her uncle tightly as he walked back to the Burrow.
Many years later….
A young woman in a long white dress stood before the withered grave of Fred Weasley.
"I love you Uncle Fred." She told the grave as she crouched before it. Setting a bouquet of wildflowers before the grave she kissed it lightly. Brushing back her unruly curls she whispered,
"I hope you're enjoying the festivities as much as Uncle George." She smiled. Standing tall, still smiling, she patted the grave.
"See you…" she whispered.
Turning from the grave she made her way back to the garden where the festivities were being held and a certain someone waited.