There are some things in life that are inevitable. Everyone will love someone or something, and everyone will die. There will be war, and some ones loved will die. It is unavoidable, and it is painful.
Here I sit by this lake, trying to collect my thoughts and calm my emotions. Sitting here, staring out over the dark waters had me reminiscing instead. When I was a student at Hogwarts, it was here I came with hurt feelings or confusion. Often times even when I just needed to be alone. It was here I first held Arthur's hand, and where he first kissed me.
My children tell their stories of this place as well. Bill fell in second year and he still tells everyone the giant squid tried to eat him. Charlie used to fly over the water watching his reflection and the fish beneath the surface, or at night by moonlight with a girl. Percy had his first kiss with his first girlfriend. And then... my twins.
Fred and George have more stores than anyone else. Many of them I'm sure they never planned on telling me. They knew exactly what my reaction would be. Right now, though, I would give anything to have them sitting by me, one on each side, telling me their stories. I would laugh and never say a word about the trouble they caused. Right now I would give anything to just have them with me. I know I cannot.
My Fred, sweet, funny Fred is gone. He died smiling, at last reconciled with Percy. One of my babies I cannot ever hold again. I was afraid that along with him I was going to lose George. His eyes were so hollow and empty. Such pain and grief harbored there.
A mother's pain is greatest when her children are in pain. It is a cruel and dangerous trick to take one from her. Having children is like having your heart outside of yourself. I have seven red headed hearts and every pain they fell is like a stab directed toward me. They pain of Percy's rejection cut me deeply and only now is it healed. Watching my eldest two leave for different countries tore at me. Seeing Bill lying on a bed cut and tattered by Greyback stopped my heart altogether. When George was carried into the Burrow bleeding and unconscious I thought I would lose consciousness. I would have if he had not needed me. I ached as Ginny saw Harry carried by Hagrid into the Great Hall, supposedly dead. But my heart, or, at least, part of it, died along with Fred.
Every part of me trembles and cries. I am afraid my tears will never end, they will flow until I am drowned by my own grief. I can feel every thrust of pain, every pang of guilt, and every stricken sob. The end of Voldemort was not the end of pain.
Today the sun is shining and the sky is cloudless above me. A perfect, soft, cool breeze blows across my face. It is a lovely day, perfect for this time of year. The end of June and graduation.
I have two graduates to see today. Soon I need to go and watch them receive their certificates. Ginny's son James and George's son Fred. Victoire and Teddy are here with their baby, little Remus, just two months old. Next year graduating is Rose and Albus. This is only the fourth time I have been here since the war. Only, always, would I come for one day. Just long enough for graduation, then leaving at once. Today is the first time I have ventured to this spot in twenty five years.
My pain has not faded. Time does not heal, it only teaches you to deal with it. To hide everything. I think Arthur suspects sometimes, late at night when nightmares plague me and it wakes him. He does not question me, I love him for that, he simply holds me.
It is almost time for me to go. Looking over my shoulder, I see a red head coming toward me. My eyes are not what they used to be, but, ah, it is Ron.
"Mum?" I rise from the low rock I was sitting on as he comes up to me. My baby boy, now forty three, his eldest graduating next year. I'm so proud of him, he's done so well in life.
"About time?"
"Yes Mum. Are you alright? No one knew where you were, it was Dad who suggested I look by the lake."
"I'm fine love, just thinking."
"Sure you're fine?"
"Yes. Come on, we don't want to miss this." I put my arm through his and let him lead me up the hill and across the lawn. This lawn, so green and alive. Everything just seems so wrong. I can still remember the blood and the bodies that stained this very earth.
My eyes are drawn to a specific spot. A stone, not very big, next to a small dip in the ground. There. That's where Remus fell and Dora beside him.
"Mum?"
I hadn't realized I'd stopped until Ron's voice broke into my memory. "Yes? Sorry. I just needed to catch my breath." For a moment, I think I really did stop breathing. All of these reminders still catch me off guard.
Entering the double doors, I see my family. Four red heads in differing stages of gray turn to look at me. Four pairs of blue eyes, my sons. I feel a fifth, Ron's, looking at me as well. For a moment, I search for a sixth. But no, a pang in my chest, the missing heart, reminds me of his absence.
"Are you ready dear?" Arthur puts his arm around my shoulders, letting Ron go to Hermione. His hair is white now, but the same warm brown eyes, given only to his daughter, gaze at me through square spectacles.
"Yes, of course." Not. How can I ever be ready? This happy occasion forces me to walk the very halls stained with the memory of Fred. With his blood. A mother should never have to bury her child. And she should never have to revisit the place where he fell.
There. Over there in that corner. That is where they laid him. I sat with his head cradled in my lap as battle raged. Only the peril of my baby girl made me rise once more.
I tell no one of my thoughts. It is my burden to bear: to always remember. Walking down the hall, I come to the Place. The wall stands erect now, but in my mind's eye I see the rubble.
Over there. That's where I was standing. I felt a heart wrenching pain and turned to see Fred fall. I lost all feeling when Percy screamed. Then it all came rushing in. I could hear nothing but Fred falling and Percy screaming. I could feel nothing but torment.
Walking past, I see Percy reach out to touch the repaired wall. I am not the only one who remembers and hurts still. Someone, long ago, probably Ron or Ginny, had carved 'FRED WE LOVE YOU' into the stone.
A silent sob catches in my throat. Hanging back, I let everyone pass before stopping completely. Arthur does not see, he had stopped to talk to the minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Everyone moves forward.
My fingers tremble as I reach out to touch the stone. It was here, twenty five years ago, part of me died. A mother's love transcends that of anyone else. I carried him for nine months, he drank the milk of my breast, and I raised him. When he fell I picked him up, when he cried I soothed his tears away, when he went away to school I cried. I loved him.
How can he be gone? I loved him damn it! I would do anything, give whatever, to hold him close one last time. To tell him I love him. To see him.
Someone touches my shoulder and I turn to them. "Mum?" It's Fred, my twenty year old son. He and his twin are identical, both lanky and handsome. I love them so much, just like my other children. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost one of them.
"Yes, Fred?"
He gives me the strangest look, hurt and bewildered. "It's me Mum, George."
"Oh, George, I'm sorry. Of course dear. After all these years you'd think I'd be able to tell you apart." He just gives me a sad look, then stares over my shoulder.
Looking back, I see what he does. 'FRED WE LOVE YOU' And beneath that '1978-1998'
He's gone. Really gone.
It's George, my forty five year old son. He and his twin brother were identical, both lanky and handsome. I love them so much, just like my other children. I still don't know what I'll do now that I've lost one.
"Oh George, I'm sorry dear." He reaches over my shoulder to touch the stone, his blue eyes shining with tears.
"It's okay Mum. I still see him too."