The waning tendrils of early morning mist licked at the bright morning, the
August sun shone brightly across the cemetery, the warm light contrasting
drastically with the old tombs of various Wizarding families, most of which
had long died out. Having faced the element for centuries the lettering on
each stone had long since disappeared. It was rare to see anyone here, but
here they were, 'Family and close friends only', a mop of red hair on each
head against the black of their clothes telling the story only to well. The
Weasley's had suffered a death.
There, in the midst of it was Ginny, standing beside her mother sobbing into her handkerchief, opposite her were her brothers, each staring at their feet in quiet mourning. Next to Ron, Harry and Hermione with their son James, the toddlers tear washed face buried in his mothers heaving chest. The world seemed to spin around her while she stood perfectly still, watching life go by.
Her father was dead.
She still could not understand it. The day when two grave-faced Ministry officials had appeared on their doorstep, to tell them that Arthur Weasley had been killed by the Dark Lord along with one other. She did not know or care who the other was; all she knew was the constant gnaw of pain, and grief and most of all, guilt.
The last thing she'd said to him was "Don't hurry back." Hormone filled and angry at the teenage view of the unfairness of life she had blurted it out at her father, so calm. He had looked hurt, and turned and left while she stormed up to her room.
She wished she had Harry. No, she didn't, not anymore. Four years ago, she might of. Not now, she and Hermione's friendship was too strong, as was her friendship with Harry. Dean Thomas, the bastard, he'd broken up with her on the last day of term after he'd slept with Lavender Brown. She thought she'd been heartbroken then, but if she had been, then now her heart had been torn out of her chest and thrown over a cliff.
She brought herself out of her thoughts to see her Fathers coffin being lowered into the grave, a new wave of tears spread through her mother but now, this was the first time Ginny really understood. Her father was gone. She would never see him again, or talk to him, or rush in from school after a long term to find him smiling at her. No more help with Transfiguration homework and especially, no Dad.
She looked across at Harry, with his arm around Hermione staring down at the black pit that was Arthur Weasley's grave. He had lost his Father too, that was why he doted on James, would do anything for him. She hoped James knew how lucky he was.
There, in the midst of it was Ginny, standing beside her mother sobbing into her handkerchief, opposite her were her brothers, each staring at their feet in quiet mourning. Next to Ron, Harry and Hermione with their son James, the toddlers tear washed face buried in his mothers heaving chest. The world seemed to spin around her while she stood perfectly still, watching life go by.
Her father was dead.
She still could not understand it. The day when two grave-faced Ministry officials had appeared on their doorstep, to tell them that Arthur Weasley had been killed by the Dark Lord along with one other. She did not know or care who the other was; all she knew was the constant gnaw of pain, and grief and most of all, guilt.
The last thing she'd said to him was "Don't hurry back." Hormone filled and angry at the teenage view of the unfairness of life she had blurted it out at her father, so calm. He had looked hurt, and turned and left while she stormed up to her room.
She wished she had Harry. No, she didn't, not anymore. Four years ago, she might of. Not now, she and Hermione's friendship was too strong, as was her friendship with Harry. Dean Thomas, the bastard, he'd broken up with her on the last day of term after he'd slept with Lavender Brown. She thought she'd been heartbroken then, but if she had been, then now her heart had been torn out of her chest and thrown over a cliff.
She brought herself out of her thoughts to see her Fathers coffin being lowered into the grave, a new wave of tears spread through her mother but now, this was the first time Ginny really understood. Her father was gone. She would never see him again, or talk to him, or rush in from school after a long term to find him smiling at her. No more help with Transfiguration homework and especially, no Dad.
She looked across at Harry, with his arm around Hermione staring down at the black pit that was Arthur Weasley's grave. He had lost his Father too, that was why he doted on James, would do anything for him. She hoped James knew how lucky he was.