Chapter 10/Requiem

Black is an interesting color. It's classy and good for camouflage in dark places. People don't usually wear black in the summer because it soaks up the heat from the sun and makes you sweat. The only reason someone would wear black in the hot summer of July was if they were going to a formal dinner party, or if they were going to a funeral. Unfortunately my reason for standing in a black dress in the beginning of July was the latter.

Mrs. Weasley wanted the funeral to be over with quickly. Even so, all the Weasleys were there. From Aunt Muriel to baby cousins, it was a crowd of black carrot-tops. I would have laughed if it hadn't been such a serious occasion. Harry, Hermione, Lee, and I were the only ones without red hair.

Aunt Muriel stared at me with pursed lips. "I hope my grand-nephew told you he loved you before he died."

I started in surprise. "Uh, well, he did . . . more or less." How in the world had she known?

Aunt Muriel grunted in satisfaction. "Humph, good. His long looks at you were beginning to get on my nerves. That boy was far too slow in my opinion."

She shuffled off and left me standing staring, dumbfounded, after her. Lee Jordan approached me and watched her leave. He glanced over at me and then away, sticking his hands into his pockets. He cleared his throat but I didn't look at him.

"He could never stop talking about you, when we were alone; you were all he wanted to talk about." He gave me a small grin. "Made me a bit jealous to tell the truth."

I didn't respond. Mrs. Weasley, with puffy red eyes, was directing the guests to their seats. We were having the service outside under a marquee, much like at Bill and Fleur's wedding. It seemed a decade ago when I was standing right here, watching Fred lead the veela cousins inside.

Mr. Weasley was greeting the guests along with Bill and Fleur. The beautiful young woman held a handkerchief to her face and cried quietly into it. Ron and Ginny were speaking to Harry and Hermione. I noticed that Ginny held Harry's hand tightly and Ron held Hermione's. Charlie gave my arm a squeeze as he passed by, Percy in tow. Percy's face was impassive and he looked more pompous than usual. I knew it was just a front. Charlie and Percy began to set up more chairs as crowd after crowd of Weasleys made their way inside the marquee. I couldn't see George anywhere.

Lee shifted uncomfortably beside me. "You know Angela, I know how you feel. Fred was my best mate. I'm going to miss him too."

He didn't know how I felt. He had no idea the pain I was experiencing. Again. Lee seemed to take the hint. Muttering a hasty goodbye, he ran off to help Charlie and Percy with the chairs. I glanced towards the coffin. They had straightened his face. It didn't look right. He looked solemn, not at all like the Fred I knew. They should have left his smile; that was the true Fred, laughing in the midst of battle.

I was thinking of going over and trying to duplicate that smile when I saw George walk into the room. He was dressed in his dress robes and his flaming red hair was combed to the side, covering the dark hole where his left ear should have been. He looked lost and uncertain. When someone spoke to him he hesitated, and I knew he was waiting for Fred to speak. Fred had almost always been the one to speak first. When the silence became stifling, George quickly answered the question in muttered tones. My heart ached for him.

Weaving in and out of red-heads, I did not stop until I had reached him. Looking up into his despondent face, I could feel my heart break. He didn't deserve this. He stared down at me, and I at him, and then I moved forward, slipping my arms around his waist and holding him tightly. I did not speak but no words were needed. George's chest was heaving with silent sobs. His tears wet my hair as he placed his cheek on the top of my head. I pulled away after a few moments and cupped his chin my hands.

"Hey, we'll get through this, okay?" I looked hard into his eyes, willing him to understand me and trust me. "I'm here for you, I am."

He shut his eyes for a brief second and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he nodded. I smoothed back his hair and then reached up and kissed his cheek. He looked at me in surprise but I only gave him a small smile as an explanation before turning and moving to my seat. George followed close behind.

"Today," an old Weasley stood in front of the coffin behind a little podium, "we acknowledge a terrible loss among our family. Fredrick Weasley was a truly . . . unique boy, with a love for mischief and a knack for getting into trouble. However he had a charm that extended beyond his family members and his cheerful personality gained him many friends.

"Fredrick fought valiantly against Lord Voldemort and against his followers, never losing heart and always enjoying the thrill of battle." The man wiped his forehead. I glanced around and saw many people crying. Tears pricked the corner of my own eyes but I held them back, holding onto George's hand tightly as he struggled to hold back his own sobs. "He often neglected his school work, he only obtained three owls, yet he was a powerful wizard. But he was also more than that. He was also a loyal and fierce friend.

"Many will recall that he was a magnificent Quidditch player, one of the best beaters in Hogwarts during his time there. He also held co-ownership of the most popular shop in Diagon Alley, the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." The man dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief.

"No one will miss Fredrick though, as much as his close family. Dear Molly and Arthur and their children have been hit hard by this loss, but I assure you, the rest of the Weasleys will be here to comfort you and the strengthen you and be here for you when you need us. Now, I believe Fredrick's twin, George, would like to say a few words."

I glanced over at George and noticed he had gone slightly green. I squeezed his hand and nudged him gently. He jumped and then stood quickly, knocking over his chair. He flushed a strange mixture of maroon and lime but I righted the chair swiftly and no harm was done. He made his way slowly to the podium and nodded to the old Weasley who moved to the side. George looked over the crowd until his gaze rested on me. I gave him a faint nod. His normal color returned and he began to speak.

"My brother Fred," his voice broke and he quickly cleared it, "my brother was more than just a relation. He was my best friend." I crossed my fingers tightly, sending courage over to him in my mind. He glanced behind him at the casket then back to his crying audience. Again his eyes found mine and he held my gaze as he continued. "I don't think anyone is going to miss him as much as me, although some people I know will come as a close second," here he gave a slight nod to me and I felt myself smiling slightly. "I don't think I can say much more than what Great Uncle Blithe said, so I guess all that's left is 'Goodbye Fred, hope wherever you are is cooler than it is here.'"

I gave a quiet laugh and a few chuckles could be heard throughout the group. George turned and stared down at his twin. Taking out his wand, he saluted Fred. I stood and did the same. And then everyone was standing and saluting the fallen warrior.

After the service, there was a short time for viewing the body and fellowship. Mrs. Weasley specifically asked only immediate family be present at the burial. Well, as well as me, Harry, Hermione, and Lee, having been as close to him as we had been. While I waited in the line to see Fred, I overheard one Weasley aunt speaking to George.

"So who's going to co-manage the shop, now that your brother is gone?" She asked in a voice resembling a crow.

George scratched the left side of his head, right over the empty hole. "I dunno," he said vaguely, not meeting her shrewd gaze. I felt sorry for him.

"Well, I have a nephew, he's your second cousin actually, who needs a job, shall I have him contact you?"

George seemed at a loss for words. I was about to step out of line to go speak up for him but I didn't have to. Ron was suddenly at his brother's side, flinging his arm around George's shoulders.

"That won't be necessary, thank you," said Ron. "I will be helping my brother with the shop."

George looked at Ron in surprise and gratitude. The aunt sniffed and turned away haughtily. I smiled slightly as George and Ron began to speak to each other in low tones. It was a good choice, I thought. The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes should stay in the family, and the calm of a familiar presence would be good on George.

I was the last person to see Fred before they closed the casket. He lay with his wand underneath his folded hands, his freckles standing out in his pale, cold face. I stared down at him and wished again that they had kept his smile. Smiling faintly, I remembered stupidly how he had smelled like cinnamon. It had always been my favorite smell. Leaning forward I brushed my lips across his forehead.

"Goodbye Fred," I whispered into his hair. "I want you to know, I would have chosen you over Malfoy." I straightened and stared down at him for a moment. "Thank you for showing me the kind of love I deserve."

I stepped back and found a place to sit until everyone, except the ones who would stay for the burial, left. Slowly they began to trickle away. Ginny came up to me and for the first time she didn't have Harry with her. I stood and hugged her tightly. She gripped the back of my dress and gave a small sob before pulling away. I smiled faintly at her.

"Guess you can't call me 'Mrs. Weasley' now, huh?" I said almost sadly.

She wiped at her eyes. "You can still become a Mrs. Weasley." She said.

Before I could ask what she meant, the real Mrs. Weasley called for her daughter in a loud voice. Ginny gave me a small, watery smile before turning and walking away, her long, fiery hair swishing back and forth across her back. I sighed and looked down at my hands. Suddenly a large, calloused hand covered them. I looked up into Charlie's concerned gaze.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I nodded, giving him a small smile. "Yes. Did you hear? Ron's going to be helping George with the shop."

He nodded, a grin slowly creeping its way onto his lips. "It's fantastic. Although George is all by himself right now, though." I looked over to where he was indicating with his head. He was right; George was standing alone, kicking at a stone methodically. Charlie nudged my arm. "Go talk to him."

I nodded, leaving Charlie and walking over to George. I watched him kick the rock for a while, before reaching out and taking his hand. This gesture startled him and he missed the rock, stumbling over and almost falling. I caught him before he could.

"Sorry," I said apologetically. He just looked at me.

"Um, how are you doing?" I tried. He shrugged.

"I dunno," he muttered.

It hurt me to see George like this. This wasn't the George I knew. I squeezed his hand. He looked down at our hands joined together tightly and slowly slipped his hand out of my grasp. I was surprised at this but did not mention it.

"I could help out if you'd like," I offered. "At the shop. I could use a job."

George looked at me and seemed to be calculating the weight of this suggestion. I waited patiently. He dug the toe of his dress shoes into the dirt and I had to smile slightly. Fred and George had never liked dressing formally.

"When I get married, I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I'll put a full Body-Bind Curse on Mum until it's all over."

I blinked as Fred's voice echoed through my head. It had been almost a year since he had said that, yet I could remember it like it was yesterday. We hadn't been speaking that day. I had slapped him for insulting Malfoy. The picture of his turned face, jaw tight, stamped itself in my head. I tried to shake it off.

"Of course we'll hire you!" Ron's forced cheerfulness broke through my thoughts. He grinned widely at me but I could tell it was forced. Years of using forced smiles had taught me the signs. I gave him a forced smile of my own.

"Thank you Ron," I said.

"We'll tell you what times you should be there." He said, then he lost the smile and ran his hand through his hair. He suddenly looked older than his eighteen years. I gave him a swift hug, catching him off guard.

When I stepped back he opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Mrs. Weasley came down on me.

"Angela, dear, we would love it if you would stay with us for a while longer. I know how you haven't got a place of your own yet."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, but you should know that as soon as I earn enough money I'm going to rent myself an apartment."

"Yes of course, dear. However, our home is always open to you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled at me; it was a genuine smile although her eyes were very red. "Oh please dear, call me Molly. You're too old to be calling me 'Mrs. Weasley.' Turning nineteen, aren't you?"

I nodded. "This month." I said softly.

George jerked next to me. I glanced at him but he was looking off into the forest beside the Burrow. I turned back to Mrs. Weas—Molly and smiled.

"Thank you . . . Molly."

She patted my cheek and turned to look at the thinning crowd. Soon enough we were the only ones there besides Lee, Harry, and Hermione. We gathered around the hole Mr. Weasley had dug without magic. Slowly he and Bill closed the casket and lowered it into the dirt. Tears silently coursed down my cheeks. Ginny grabbed my hand and I reached out with my other to grasp George's.

Once the hole was refilled, Bill placed a large stone at the head of the grave and with a flick of his wand, Transfigured it into an headstone with a simple design of two wands crossed. Above it there read the words:

Fredrick Weasley

April 1st, 1978 – June 1997

Beloved Son, Brother, and Fellow Prankster

I smiled at the inscription. April Fool's Day, how appropriate I'd always thought. I looked over at George; he was staring at the stone impassively. I opened my mouth to say something but he turned abruptly and walked quickly away. I glanced at Ginny, she shrugged sadly. I sighed, looking over at Charlie, wondering whether or not I should follow him. Charlie thought a moment then slowly shook his head. I nodded. It was time for George to be alone.

I wondered if he would stay at the Burrow or go back to his and Fred's apartment above their shop. I hoped he would stay a while. I wanted to be there for him if he needed it. Ginny tugged on my hand and I realized we were the only ones still standing at the grave. I turned and saw that the rest of the Weasley family and Harry, Hermione, and Lee, were headed back to the Burrow. I let Ginny lead me back. Before we went inside I took one last look over my shoulder towards the woods, behind which was the clearing we had practiced Quidditch in, and where I knew George was.

"We'll get through this," I muttered to myself.

We had to.

A/N: Okay ya'll, you have two options here. I still have about 3 more chapters in my head for this story and maybe an epilogue. However, if you wish, this could be the end. I personally don't want it to be. There are too many unanswered questions at the moment: What will happen between George and Angela? How about Charlie and Angela? What did Ginny mean when she said "You can still become a Mrs. Weasley"? How is Fred's death going to impact Angela in later on?

So, it's your choice. Should these questions be answered? or should I leave you to ponder and wonder and scratch your head, banging your heads in agony as you try to puzzle out what my plans were for Angela? Cuz this is it. No more Color Series after this. This is the last one. So review, and tell me what you want.

Continue: 1 vote. Stop you idiotic person!: 0 votes.

That one vote is mine. I really would like to keep going. (hint, hint) :-P

Oh, and yes, this is a scheme to get more reviews. Aren't I evil? Muwahahahaha!