Still Standing

Molly Weasley looked out the kitchen window. The sun was rising, and the lawn gnomes were playing. Molly felt neither sunny nor playful, but managed an inward smile at the sight. Almost mechanically, she pulled out a frying pan and began to fry eggs and sausages.

The smell of her own cooking was soothing. She recalled (and at the same time, tried not to recall) the events of the previous night. The battle.

Fred was gone. There was a feeling. A half-numb, half-nauseated feeling that came along with that realization. The twins always managed to brighten her day. The twins—mischief-making, lovable, infuriating, stubborn…and joy personified. The twins. She had always thought of them as a set. Yes, of course, they were two different people, with two distinct personalities, but it was like having a right and left shoe. There were slight differences, but they were unmistakably a set.

Now she must change her thinking. There is only George. As much as she loved him, she could not bear to think of him. Perhaps it had been kind that Gideon and Fabian had gone together. To lose a twin…Molly could not begin to comprehend the loss.

And loss was no stranger to Molly. She hardly ate or slept after the loss of her brothers. She simply cried for days on end, thinking her chest must surely rip down the middle with the pain of it. The hole that was once her brothers would surely grow, would surely tear her apart.

But she had survived. She thought of Fred. There were no tears. It was as though her agony had been fed a numbing solution. It was there. She could feel it, but it wasn't coming on at full force yet.

Molly heard a shuffle of footsteps behind her.

"Mom…do you need any help?" Ginny stood there, arms crossed.

"Yes, dear." Molly was shocked at how almost-normal her voice sounded. "Please set the table."

Ginny did as she was told. Molly was proud. It had taken her a long time to come out of her room after her brothers had been killed. Here was Ginny, setting the table, visibly grieving, but ready to take on at least some semblance of a normal life.

Suddenly, the two women were hugging, heads buried in each other's shoulders.

"I miss him, mum. I miss him already."

"I know, sweetheart. I can't tell you how much…But I'm proud of you."

"Proud of me?"

"You are so strong. You've grown up so strong." Molly gently pushed her daughter away, looking into her eyes and gently stroking the ends of her flaming hair.

"I think I get it from my mum." Ginny said, and the two women hugged again. Trying not to cry, they continued to make breakfast.

"So…did you and Harry sleep in the same room last night?" Molly tried to sound casual.

"Yes. But nothing happened." Ginny assured her.

Molly smiled. "It's okay. I trust you. Harry is a good man."

"The best." Said Ginny.

"The best." Molly nodded in agreement.

Slowly, the smell of sausage began to lure the family out of their beds and around the table. First was Arthur, followed by Percy, then Bill and Charlie, and finally Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They all sat down and began to tuck in.

Conversation was present, but subdued.

"I think I forgot to tell you all, you know, with everything going on. A scout came to Hogwarts, and I'm going to try out for the Harpies." Ginny said.

An enthusiastic "Congratulations!" went all around the table.

"Knew you had it in you." Came a voice from the doorway. George stood there, hair mussed and eyes bloodshot.

"George! I'm glad to see you're up." His mother hugged him and generally fussed over him. He sat down in his usual spot, poking at his eggs. Next to him was an empty seat. Ginny had set the table as usual, and Fred's empty plate stared at him.

"Here's to you." George gestured toward the empty spot with his juice glass. The rest of the family followed suit.

Molly looked down at her husband and children. They were all exhausted. They were all grieving and heartbroken. They were all scarred, physically and mentally.

But they were still standing.