A/N - I wrote this for the Minefield Challenge on HPFC for the prompt funeral.

I don't think I've ever cried while writing a fanfic before, reading yes, but not while writing one. I did when I wrote this though, so that's my warning for you. :) It is set far into the future, so Molly and Arthur had a very long life together.

Arthur sat quietly, surrounded by his family as the Ministry official continued to speak. Ginny was on his left, her arm looped through his, head resting on his shoulder. She was crying softly. Bill sat on his right, staring straight ahead, his face stoic. His tight grip on Fleur's hand was all the belied his true emotions. Arthur wanted to tell him that it was all right, that he didn't have to be the strong one just because he was the eldest, but he couldn't seem to find his voice.

Truth be told, he hadn't spoken much at all to anyone since Molly had slipped away from him five days ago. They had been lying in bed, her head on his chest and he felt her take her last breath. He had bent down and kissed the top of her head and then he had held her for another hour before he finally arose to Floo the family.

Percy and Hermione had done much of the organizing for the funeral and Arthur had left them to it. He had spent most of his time sitting in his rocker on the porch they had added to the Burrow after Arthur had retired from the Ministry. His children were worried about him, he knew. He had tried to assure them that he was all right, but his mind was too full of memories of his wife to find the words. Every time one of them would approach him and try to get him to talk, they would spark some memory of Molly. And Arthur would find that whatever he had meant to say had flown from his head in the wake of remembering.

And now he was sitting here listening to a man who had known his wife only peripherally, try and explain the woman she had been and what she had meant to the rest of them. But he couldn't possibly know.

He couldn't possibly know that the first time Arthur had tried to ask Molly Prewett to go to Hogsmeade with him, he had stammered so badly and turned so red, Molly had taken him to the hospital wing. She was certain he had been hit with some kind of babbling hex.

He couldn't know that they day Arthur had proposed was the first time he had seen Molly cry and for a moment Arthur thought that she was appalled at the idea of spending the rest of her life with him. The fact that seconds later she flung her arms around his neck and snogged him more thoroughly than he had ever been kissed before convinced him that he was mistaken.

He couldn't know how she had made the Burrow into the home that it was. How she had painstakingly cleaned, painted and fixed up the old pigpen and turned it into a home. He couldn't know how she had never once complained about their lack of money, often going without herself in order to get something for one of the children or even Arthur.

This man probably knew of Molly's great love for her family. Arthur was sure he had heard the stories of how she protected Ginny from Bellatrix Lestrange during the Final Battle. But he couldn't know how she had sat up with every single one of her children whenever they were ill or upset or having nightmares. He couldn't know how many miles she had walked in their bedroom, soothing a crying baby. He couldn't possibly know the extent of her grief when they had lost Fred or the nights she spent sitting in a chair watching over George afterward as if she were afraid she would lose him somehow too.

He doubted that the man knew of Molly's sorrow when James and Lily Potter were killed. He couldn't know that Molly had immediately offered to take Harry in, regardless of the fact that they had seven children of their own and to add another would have stretched their meager budget to the near breaking point. Even after Albus had assured them Harry was with relatives, Molly still fretted. And when she had found out about the bars on his windows the summer before his second year, she had nearly blown out the windows of the Burrow in her fury. Arthur thought that Albus was lucky he was all the way in Scotland when Molly learned of it, although it hadn't stopped her from sending him more than one Howler on the subject.

Arthur knew this man didn't know the joy Molly felt when each one of her grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren were born. It was as great as her joy when her own children were born and her heart only continued to grow with each new addition. Sometimes Arthur teased her that heart would soon be so large it would burst from her chest and Molly would merely smile and tell him that if that happened it would be worth it.

This Ministry official couldn't know that Molly took in family like some people took in stray cats. If Molly Weasley fed you, you were hers from then on, plain and simple. Yes, she was overbearing at times and stuck her nose where it didn't belong more than once, but she loved with a fierceness that awed Arthur. She would protect any of them, born or honorary, with her life and not think twice about it. This man didn't know that Molly was happiest with a child on her hip, a pot of food on the stove and her kitchen full of family. She tolerated his obsession with all things Muggle with a fond exasperation, hated lima beans and loved vanilla ice cream with raspberries on top.

"Dad? Are you ready to go?" Bill asked. Arthur looked up in surprise. The Ministry official had finished speaking and many people were standing to leave.

"It's over?" Ginny glanced at Harry in concern.

"Yes, Dad, we need to go to the cemetery now."

"No, no I," Arthur stood and shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts. Ginny put a hand on his arm.

"Granddad, maybe you should sit down," Victoire suggested, her "Healer look" on her face. Arthur took a breath.

"No, I'm fine. I want to say something."

"Dad," Ginny said in concern. "I don't know if that's a good idea." His daughter had been the most worried about him these last few days, but he had finally found his voice again. He put a hand to her cheek. She looked so much like her mother.

"I'm fine, Ginny. I want to say something about your mother." Ginny glanced at Harry who looked at Ron, who shrugged.

"Come on, Granddad," Lily said as she stepped out of the crowd. She took his arm and led him to the front, saying something quietly to James as she did so.

"Excuse me everyone," James said after casting a Sonorus charm. "If you could all wait a moment, my grandfather would like to say something." The crowd turned and began making their way back to their seats. Lily patted Arthur's arm and then stepped off to the side, remaining nearby in case he needed her.

Once everyone was seated once more, Arthur looked out at them. The majority were his family, of course, but there were friends of theirs, Kingsley had made it, his hair as grey as Arthur's now, and friends of Arthur's children and grandchildren. Arthur cleared his throat and looked at his sons and daughters.

"I fell in love with Molly Prewett over one hundred years ago when we were both just sixteen." He shook his head. "It seems like yesterday." He saw Ron take Hermione's hand and Ginny swipe at her cheeks. "Our life wasn't always easy. We lived through two wars that took so many people we loved and hurt so many more. There were times when I faltered and lost hope that things would get better or that we would triumph over the evil that had infected our world. But Molly always reminded me that we had so much to be thankful for and that as long as we had each other, had our family, things would be all right."

Most of his children were crying openly now. Angelina wrapped her arms around George's waist, the pain of Fred still overwhelming sometimes, even all these years later. Bill had gripped Fleur's hand even tighter and Percy's lips were pressed so tightly together that they had nearly disappeared from his face.

"She was right, of course. She was nearly always right." He chuckled and many of the crowd joined in with him.

"She loved all of you, each and every one of you whether you were family or friend. She took care of all of us her entire life and wouldn't have had it any other way. I loved her more every day than I did the day before. She was my best friend and I will miss her for the rest of my days." Arthur paused, feeling the tears on his cheeks. He glanced at Lily, who smiled brightly through tears of her own.

"Thank you all for coming today to honor my wife. If she were here she would fuss and tell you all that this wasn't necessary." There were a few more chuckles at this. "But she deserved it. Thank you." The crowd began to rise again and talk amongst themselves as Arthur turned toward the casket. Lily waited patiently to the side as he had his last private moment.

"I miss you so much already." He placed a hand lovingly on top of the smooth wood. "But don't worry about me, you know that this family is too large for more than a day to go by without someone checking in and fussing over me." He smiled. "I love you, my darling Molly. Give Freddie a hug for me." He bent forward and kissed the casket and then turned to his granddaughter. She wrapped him in a fierce hug, nearly rivaling those of her grandmother. Arthur hugged her back and kissed the top of her head before they walked back to the family.

"No more tears," Arthur said. "As your mother and grandmother always said, we will all be all right because we have each other." There were nods, tears were wiped away and hugs were freely given. As Arthur looked out over the crowd of his family, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren alike, he smiled.

"We did well, Molly. We did well."