AN: SPOILERS AHEAD. TURN AROUND NOW IF YOU HAVEN'T READ DH OR DON'T WISH TO BE SEVERELY SPOILED.

I'm not sure what exactly I was shooting for with this oneshot. DH left me slightly spinning with some of the deaths and some of the backstory on some of the characters. In particular, I couldn't bear to think of Fred, Lupin, and Tonks as dead. Tonks for her youth and new motherhood, Lupin because he was finally happy and deserved to be so, and Fred because well... what's Fred and George without the Fred? The Weasley twins were by far two of my favourite characters.

In a way, this is my attempt at reconciling with Fred's death. This idea just sort of sprung in my head, and it wouldn't leave me alone until I done and wrote it. I considered doing it for Lupin or Tonks, but in the end, this seemed to fit the best. I also thought about writing it from George's point of view, but in the end, Mrs. Weasley won out... I'm pretty certain I made her much more eloquent than she might actually be, but oh well.

The Life You'll Never Live

I'm not usually one for speeches. Often I'm the one behind the scenes. Cooking, or cleaning. This place, the spotlight, is one usually reserved for others. I wasn't… I wasn't sure if I could do this, but Arthur persuaded me that this was something I should… something I needed to do…

(shuffling papers)

(clears throat.)

I already had had three sons, each one perfect in his own way. But Arthur and I thought that certainly we could handle more. We had dreamed of filling our house with children. We weren't wealthy, true, but we were rich in other things. Happiness. Joy. The sound of our sons' laughter. We had little money to spare, but we still had so much love to give. Arthur and I had so successfully reared Bill, Charlie, and Percy that we thought we could have a dozen.

Then, we had the twins.

Scattered laughter.

Someone indignantly huffs.

Fred and George were… a handful. And everyone here knows that that is a gross understatement. From birth they were troublemakers. At ten months, they had somehow managed to climb on top of Arthur's bookshelf. How they did it, I will never know. They also used to yank all the clean clothes from the laundry line, though it took me a while before I knew it was them. They always managed to vanish before I arrived and I would blame one of their other brothers, most often Percy, much to their delight.

It's odd… so strange to speak of one without the other. The two were so often inseparable, they were like one person. If someone didn't know any better, they would think we only had one son named Fredangeorge, not twins. They seemed to complete one another, two halves of a whole. They understood each other better than Arthur or I or even their brothers ever could. It was as if they could read each other's minds. And believe me, they used it to their own advantage.

And then they, as all children do, grew up. Soon, our brood increased by two. Arthur and I had Ron and Ginny – two little siblings for Fred and George to play with and torture and corrupt. Things only increased tenfold when Fred and George began showing magical tendencies. Fred somehow managed to change Ron's teddy bear into a spider… Oh, dear, Ron, I'm sorry. I promised I wouldn't mention it and there I go again.

Laughs.

Soon, their eleventh birthday came, and like their brothers before them, they were off to Hogwarts. Within days, we received owls from all their professors, all saying the same thing. That Fred and George showed extreme promise and talent and could do very well… if only they would stop causing so much trouble in class. Well, naturally, this was hardly a surprise for Arthur and me… oh, George, don't give me that insulted look... though we were sorely disappointed. We thought perhaps that their pranks were something they would eventually grow out of. But now I know that that was merely a part of who they truly were, something that could never… should never change.

(clears throat)

I, like all parents, hoped for what I thought was the best for my children. I hoped they would all receive high marks in their classes, be prefects, perhaps Head Boy, go on to have a good job, marry a good person, and live in financial stability. Above all, I hoped that my children would be safe and happy.

But what does a mother do when one desire clashes with another? When desires are not compatible?

It was soon clear that my idea of happiness for Fred and George were not what they had in mind at all. I wanted them to have secure jobs in the Ministry, like their father. They merely wanted to run a joke shop. This silly dream, I thought, had no future in it. They were wasting gold and more importantly, their youth pursuing a silly dream.

Children learn from their parents, but just as often… parents learn from their children. It quickly became evident that those two knew what they were doing. I couldn't believe how successful they were! They were absolutely raking in the Galleons!

(pause)

When my children were little, I used to dream of the things they would one day do. There were the wild ones, of course. Like becoming the Minister of Magic, or the Headmaster of Hogwarts. My children, however, constantly redefined those wild fantasies and replaced them with realities, realities that were far greater than anything I could imagine...

But I had far simpler dreams too. I dreamed that my children would grow up. I dreamed they would fall in love, get married, and have beautiful children. I dreamed they would live long, happy years with their families by their sides. I dreamed that they would live to ripe old ages, surrounded by love and happiness.

Never did I even think that those dreams might not come true.

When I think back… I think of all the times I scolded him. All the times I reprimanded him and punished him. I wish… somehow… I could go back and do it less. Give him and George a little more leeway on their ultimately harmless pranks. Tell him that I loved him more. Perhaps not have threatened him and George so harshly when they left Hogwarts…

Chuckles.

Never do you imagine that the last moment might be the last. You always think there will be more, that tomorrow will come. I think this war has shown us otherwise.

Never again will I hear Fred's laughter. Never again will I hold him in my arms. Never again will I see his face. Never again will I hear him call me Mum… When I think about this, I'm filled with deep regrets for not savouring each moment.

But what hurts the most… is thinking… of the things… Fred will never do, the life he will never live. Never will Fred finally find his true love and marry… Never will Fred experience the joys of parenthood… Never will Fred have children and watch them grow with pride… Never… Never will Fred cradle his grandchildren in his arms…

(pause)

I'm sorry. If you could please just give me a moment to collect myself…

(pause)

Thank you. I'm so sorry…

No mother… No mother ever wants to do what I must today. I must bury a one to whom I gave life. A child I once cradled in my arms. A child I comforted when he cried. A child that became a man. A man who… before his life could truly begin… was cut down. Too young. Too soon. Children are supposed to bury their parents, not the other way around.

But as I have lost a son, so have you lost. Many of you have lost a friend, a companion, a comfort in the darkness of the war. My children have lost a brother. One of them… George… has lost his other half, the person he has never lived without.

Fred was so many things to all of us, and now without him here, the world seems just a bit greyer, a little emptier. There seems to be just a little less to laugh about without him here with us.

I think that if Fred were here now, he'd berate us all for crying so much.

Oh, I'm one to talk. I'm like a running faucet up here. But I am sure… if he were here… he would make some morose, morbid joke about being dead that would make us all laugh.

Soft laughter.

That is what Fred always knew best, no matter what happened… to bring laughter and joy into people's lives.

Fred, if you could hear me, there would be so many things I would want to say to you. The first would be that I told you that you and George were far too young to join the Order. Why wouldn't you listen to me?

(short pause)

The second, and most important, would be that I am so unbelievably, unspeakably, completely proud of you… I always have been. Perhaps you didn't bring home the best marks and you were not a prefect, but I was always proud of you for being the person you were. For being so strong and so willing to live. No matter how hard I tried… to keep you as my baby boy, to shield you from all the terrible things in this world, you somehow came to face them anyway. You faced them with dignity, and you grew into a man. A brave, strong man whom I am so proud to call my son.

(pause)

May the world forever remember Frederick Gideon Weasley, my son, my beautiful, laughing son, who fought so bravely for a cause he believed in. He died nobly, like his uncle for whom I named him. He faced death as he faced everything: with a joke and a laugh. May we hold Fred dear in our hearts forever.

But more importantly, may we all remember just why Fred died… why so many young lives were lost so unnecessarily. May we remember why they fought and why they sacrificed themselves and may we ensure that their sacrifices were not in vain.

May we remember so that no other mothers will ever be in my place - forced to bury her twenty-year-old son.

May we remember the lessons we have learned... so that no such tragedy will ever happen again.

Thank you.