Goodbye, My Son.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The sun rose cheerily on the day that was to be one of the worst of Arthur Weasley's life, the other being the day that would go down in history as the joyous victory over Lord Voldemort but for Arthur could only be remembered as the day he lost Fred. It was unnatural to bury your child, an event no parent should be present to witness.

As much as he loved Molly, he was finding it difficult to be there for her as he knew he should be, when coming to terms with his own grief was proving so impossible. It was made so much harder by having to watch helplessly as the woman he loved came to pieces, a cruel shadow of her former self. He wondered if it was perhaps harder for a mother to accept the death of a child, especially if that mother had dedicated her life to raising her children, watching them grow and molding them into the fine adults they had become, that Fred had become.

He knew that Molly could have made a success out of anything she turned her hand to. He thought somewhat wistfully that she would have made a fantastic Healer, Teacher, Ministry official, hell, even an Auror after the way she dispatched of Bellatrix. But no, after Bill was born, Molly let go of all personal ambitions and let her children become the centre of her world. Arthur didn't think he could ever have been that unselfish. As it was though, Fred's death took on an extra dimension of pain for his wife. He knew that she saw it as a failure of her own that she had been unable to protect him. He knew that try as he might, he could never persuade her that Fred was an adult and therefore capable of deciding for himself what was worth fighting for, worth dying for. To Molly, this day, her son's funeral, was a final reminder of her failure as a parent.

So he sat, in the bottom of the garden in the Burrow, mourning his son and to all extents and purposes his wife, as well wishers began to appear suitably attired in grim clothing that Fred would undoubtedly have despised. The sun continued its slow ascent in the sky until it would reach its peak at noon and the service would begin. Even as he contemplated this, a strange weight began to shift and his thoughts turned to Teddy, little Teddy who had lost his parents, and was only starting to make his way through life. This was what it was all about wasn't it? Remus and Tonks had given their lives so that their child may experience a world without fear and cruelty, and while they weren't there to share it with him, they still lived on in Teddy. Fred lived on in his family. While his parents and siblings, and eventually nieces and nephews remembered him and knew what he had sacrificed for them, he would never truly be gone.

He heard someone move behind him and turned around to see Molly walk slowly towards him, a cup of tea in hand. He wanted to go to her, to wrap his arms around her and tell her about this sudden epiphany that somehow made sense of the whole tragedy. However, as she lifted her head and looked into his eyes with that piercing gaze that her daughter had inherited, he realized there was no need, Whether she had come to the same realisation on her own or they had both received a little help from above, they understood one another perfectly. Life would go on, and they would meet it when it did.