Standard disclaimers apply!
I do not own Harry Potter. I have nothing to do with Scholastic, Warner Bros or Bloomsbury. I'm not JKR and I am certainly not making any profit out of this.
So young. My beautiful boy. My Fred.
Molly washed his face tenderly, wiping away the blood and grime.
Preparing him for burial.
So much going for you ... a full life ahead of you.
Her fingers moved over a knot in the back of his neck ... and she knew, instinctively, this was the wound which had ripped her son from her.
Like Gideon and Fabian all over again. Was this how Mother felt? Like she might die herself.
She washed his hands, held them up to hers.
You were always more of a Prewett than a Weasley. Impulsive. Hot-headed. Ready to die for what you believed in. Just like your uncles.
She linked their fingers together ... so cold already.
When you were little, you'd hold my hand ... you were so small and warm, pulling me this way and that ... always laughing.
She dressed him carefully, her eyes lingering on the faint smile still etched on his face.
What are we going to do without you, Freddie? How will Georgie survive?
She kissed his forehead, tears streaming from her face onto his.
Gideon, Fabian, I give you my son. Watch over him.