A/N: Alrighty so here were are with Arthur and Molly. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

10. Arthur and Molly, comfort

Summary: Christmas without Fred is just too much for Molly to handle.

Molly bustled around the kitchen, trying her very best not to break down into tears. It was their first Christmas without Fred and she was worried about how everyone was going to take it, especially George. Honestly, she didn't know how they could sit in the living room chatting when he wasn't going to be here this year. Of course, 'them' consisted of Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione so maybe it was wrong to assume that they should be in tears. She would wait for to get here, then he would cry and she wouldn't feel so bad about having these feelings.

Laughter poured in from the living room, and Molly nearly lost it. She would have started wailing then if the door hadn't opened. Turning around, she saw her second oldest son shaking snow off of his clothes and beaming at her. Rushing over, Molly started to make sure that he had gotten all the snow off of him and that he was warm enough.

"Mum, I'm fine," Charlie assured her. "Really. After all, I finally get to have some more of your cooking, and I haven't had a proper meal in ages."

"Of course, you haven't," she scoffed. "You'd think they keep their employees well fed in Romania since they're working with dragons, but apparently, they can't manage to do that right. Charlie Weasley! You get your hands out of that pot right now!"

Charlie grinned sheepishly at her before setting down the lid and scurrying off to the living room.

Molly was left to putter about. As soon as she started to cook, she wondered if Fred was eating where ever he was. She hoped so. She hoped that he had some friends to share Christmas with, or that he was looking down on all of them and smiling. The door opened again.

George appeared in the doorway, and Molly hurried over to him.

"Mum," George whined as he reluctantly hugged her back.

"Oh, Georgie, I'm so glad you could make it," she told him. "Your father and I were hoping that you'd be able to get away from the shop."

"Mum," George repeated, jerking his head to the side. "I brought Angelina."

Molly turned her attention to the girl on the right. She was tall and quite pretty. Her hair was flowing around her shoulders in soft curls, and she had a small smile on her face. She stepped forward so Molly got a glimpse of her eyes—they were dark brown and twinkling in the light. Her lip slipped between her teeth like she was nervous.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Angelina greeted her. "I don't know if you remember me or not. I was only here a few times."

"Of course, dear," Molly replied and gave her a quick hug. "What's this you've got?"

"Oh, well, I didn't know if you'd have enough food since you didn't know I was coming," Angelina explained. "George invited me last minute, you see. So I brought you something just in case."

"Oh, that's so sweet of you, dear," Molly told her, taking the delicious smelling dish and setting it on the table. "I appreciate that."

"I told you," George said, popping a carrot into his mouth. "Mum makes enough food for an army."

"George!" Molly shouted.

"What?" he responded. "Do you want me to spit it back into the pot?"

The look Molly gave him had him shirking in on himself. Angelina laughed.

"You've got that look down pat," she complimented the older lady.

"Yes, well, it does come in handy," Molly replied. "I could teach it to you if you like."

"I might just take you up on that."

George groaned. "Mum, she's scary enough as it is. Don't make it worse."

Angelina shrugged. "I have a look of mine."

Molly chuckled. "Well, I suppose that's a good thing. You'll need it to keep George in check."

George choked on the other carrot he was chewing, and Angelina turned pale.

"Oh, we're not together," she explained. "Not like that."

She cast a longing look over at George as he continued to choke on his carrot. The poor thing was probably heart sick.

"Yes, of course," she sighed. "Well, the others are in the living room, and George, if you touch that food on more time."

George stopped his hand from reaching into the food once more, and he and Angelina headed into the living room. Molly sighed as she watched the two go off.

She returned to her cooking and her morbid thoughts of her son, who sacrificed his life for this—a better world. She sniffed as she stirred the gravy, and a few tears leaked out of her eyes. Why was the world such a cruel place? Why did it have to take such a beautiful light from the world? It simply wasn't fair.

The door silently closed, and Molly nearly screamed. Percy was standing in the doorway, looking guilty for scaring his mother.

"Percy, darling, don't just stand there," Molly scolded him lightly. "You'll catch a cold."

"Right," he muttered. "Sorry, Mum."

"Nothing to be sorry about, dear," she replied with a smile on her face. "How have you been? I haven't seen you in a while?"

Percy shrugged. "Alright. Work still take up a lot of my time, but I'm fine."

"And your boss is treating you well?" Molly inquired. "You haven't had any trouble have you?"

"No," he replied softly, a small smile on his face. "No, I haven't."

"Good," she said. "Head on into the living room. Supper will be done in a minute."

Percy nodded, looking a little frightened, but headed in anyway.

Molly sighed as she watched before the door opened again. A pregnant Fleur waddled in with Bill behind her.

"Would you stop watching every move I make, mon amour," she sighed. "I am not going to fall on flat ground."

"Fall?!" Bill exclaimed. "When did you ever fall?"

Fleur glared at him. "Molly, tell your ridiculous son that I am fine and do not need help walking."

"Well, you look fine to me," Molly nodded. "How is the baby?"

"Oh, she is good," Fleur said with a smile as she rubbed her stomach. "It is her father you should worry about."

Bill only glared at her. "How are you, Mum?"

"I'm fine, dear," she answered. Bill always knew something was up. He didn't press the matter though. He nodded and left it at that.

"Have you decided on a name?" Molly wanted to know.

"Non," Fleur replied. "It is so hard to choose. I want to pick them all."

"Aw, yes, I remember how it was with mine," she sighed dreamily. "I wanted to name Bill Harley at one point."

"Mum!" Bill exclaimed.

"Well, there's no use in lying," she replied snippily. "Now, Fleur you must sit down. Go on. I'm sure everyone will be so pleased to see you."

As the two left the kitchen, Molly once again returned to her cooking. This time she couldn't stop the tears. Silently, she cried and did her best not to hinder her cooking. She didn't realize she was shaking until she tried to stir the potatoes and her spoon kept banging against the pot.

"Molly," Arthur urgently murmured when he came in from the living room. "Sit down, sweetheart. What's wrong?"

"Fred's not here," she wailed quietly. "He's not here and I want all my babies here."

"Oh, Molly, hush," Arthur whispered tears of his own gathering in his eyes. "It'll be alright. I promise. Fred may not be here in the flesh, but he's here in spirit. That's what counts."

"But I want to hold him again," Molly cried.

"I know, love. So do I."

After a few more minutes of soothing words, Arthur was able to calm Molly down, and they called their children in to eat.