Hi! This was written for the Week 2 of 52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition (by Always Padfoot) I used the prompts "grief" and "You know I'm beginning to think she's a real..."
Hope you enjoy :)
"Won't you kids clean up after yourselves!" Mrs Weasley barked at the assortement of people in front of her: children, grandchildren, all sitting around the breakfast table.
"Mom, don't get your panties in a twist, we'll put everything away and do the dishes once we're all done." Charlie told his mother.
"I'll do whatever I please with my panties, and you will do as you're told." And with a wave of her wand all the plates and bowls stacked themselves on top of each other and, accompanied with the half-eaten food, still in the process of being eaten, flew to the kitchen.
"Grandma! I wasn't done with that!" moaned young Hugo, as he watched his bowl of cereal glide away from him. Molly tutted in dissaproval.
"You are just like your father! Always eating… We have a long day today, your cousin is getting married and we need to get everything ready!" Several groans were heard across the room, both from the younger members of the family and the less young ones. Hugo leaned in towards Albus and muttered
"You know, I'm beginning to think she's a real…"
"Hugo! You have no idea of all the work your grandmother does! Show some respect, and help out without making such a fuss." Ron scolded his son.
"Ron! Will you get that lazy bottom of yours off that chair and go get those filthy gnomes out of my yard!" Molly yelled from the kitchen.
"But mom…" Ron started.
"Dad! You have no idea of all the work your mother does! Show some respect, and help out without making such a fuss." Hugo mimicked as his father reluctantly got up.
That morning was franctically chaotic! People running all over the place, bumping into each other, trying very hard not to get Molly upset. The latter was outside conducting the men's attempts at putting the chairs in order but nothing seemed to be good enough for Molly. After a while they all got hungry and went to eat lunch. Molly stayed outside sitting on one of the misplaced chairs. She let out a long sigh. It seemed only yesterday she was marrying her eldest son in this very garden, and yet she was about to see his daughter get married on the exact same spot. Time flew by so quickly…
She got up, this was no time to be sentimental, there would be time for that later, but for now she had to focus on getting everything in place. She started to walk towards the house, calling on people.
"Arthur Weasley! Hurry up and get these chairs in place! Charlie, Percy! That goes for you too!" There were no answers, but a dash of red hair appeared from behind one of the bushes close to the house.
"Oh! Fred! There you are! Go get your father and brothers out of the kitchen, now, won't you?" George froze, as Molly realised her mistake. "Oh! George, I'm so sorry! She cried breaking out in tears.
George didn't answer at first, he didn't move, though he accepted whole-heartidely as his weeping mother embraced him. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! George…" she sobbed into her son's shoulder. It had been years since Fred had been mentioned, but each time he was, the memory of him came back to haunt all of the Weasleys like a knife to the heart. None of them had really made their peace with the fact that it would never really be "The Weasleys" again.
At that moment, George looked down at his mother with a sad smile, staring into her tear-filled eyes, and said:
"Honestly woman… You call yourself our mother!"