Sitting around the scrubbed wooden kitchen table was the entire Weasley brood. The plans were to be finalised for Fred's funeral tomorrow and Mrs Weasley had been adamant that everyone stay home to help set everything up. It had been arranged for the wizard that officiated Bill and Fleurs wedding to conduct the funeral – as Mrs Weasley had put it, he had done a wonderful job in presenting Dumbledore's memory at his funeral; and she wanted Fred to be remembered, not laid to rest and forgotten. Although; as any of her children could have told her; they would never forget him for one day of their life.

Fred was a part of the heart and soul of their family. The duo that was Fred and George had never failed to brighten up the burrow – literally sometimes, what with the frequent explosions. They were often labelled as trouble makers; but in all honesty they had never done anything to intentionally hurt someone with their pranks. Ron his spider phobia was a complete accident; and when they almost done an unbreakable vow with him – they didn't understand the seriousness with it being so young themselves.

That light they brought to the Burrow was gone. There was heaviness in the air they breathed and everything looked like shades of grey – that light was gone from their lives. The vibrant buds beginning to bloom outside the window crude and unwelcome.

Mrs Weasley took a long breath looking at the scribbled list in front of her and said, "We still need to conjure the chairs for the service."

Percy raised his wand and with a swoosh conjured a stiff, black, straight backed chair, "Will ones like that do, Mum?" he asked.

She was about to reply dejectedly that they'd be fine when George scoffed, "I don't think so, why don't you just get everyone to stick poles up their arses and balance."

"George, please don't be so rude to your brother, he is only trying to help and you've sat there and had something negative to say about every plan or decision we make," said Mrs Weasley.

"That's because it's not what we planned," he murmured looking at his clasped hands resting on the table.

"What are you talking about George," Mr Weasley asked softly. George didn't lift his eyes while he spoke.

"Well. We talked about it. F-Fred and I. We knew it could happen, we weren't stupid. It's war," if a pin had dropped it would have sounded like a pack of wild horses storming the Burrow; that's why everyone at the table heard the soft splash of a tear drop from Georges eye and hit the table he refused to look from, "we j-just didn't think that it w-would only happen to one of us and not t-the other. We didn't p-plan for this. We wrote a joint Will a few months ago, and it had i-instructions for a f-funeral,"

George was struggling to speak any longer as he thought of the conversation he and his beloved brother had which resulted in the Will. "Nah, there's no chance one of us will die and the other wont, we're inseparable my dear Georgie; if it comes down to it we'll be fighting those death eater pillocks together anyway. And come on, you know you'd just die without me," he had joked,

"Too right Freddikins."

"Gred and Forge forever mate. In life, or in death."

George stood up suddenly his chair toppling over behind him, "It's in the safe at the shop, someone can go and get it," he started for the stairs, trying to run from the feelings that had just consumed him, he stopped with his foot on the bottom step and added, "except instead of two of everything, it'll only be one."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a going to be a miserable day Harry decided standing in the back garden looking up to the sky. Not a single patch of sky could be seen through the dense grey cloud. Grey. Again. It was the 9th of May and the weather was still mourning. It was 5am and Harry couldn't sleep, which was a regular occurrence these days. He couldn't believe it had only been one week since the war had ended; it haunted him like it was still happening; every time he closed his eyes it was like he was standing in the middle of the battle. Everything was in slow motion. And he whirled around shouting warnings to his friends as he watched them getting struck by jets of green light and crumple before his eyes. He shivered, even though it wasn't a particularly cold morning.

He walked through the garden to the patch of trees near the boundary, feeling the wet dewy grass between his toes. He reached an old ladder nailed to the trunk of a tree and climbed into the old treehouse he had found two early mornings before. He sat on a mouldy old cushion that had been left to rot for what must've been years and rested his head against the wooden wall behind him. It was full of tattered and weather-worn old drawings that had been spellotaped to the walls. The Weasley children obviously only played in here as young children, coming to an age when they decided they were too old to play in the treehouse. There was a picture labelled "Fred, age 6" which showed his family as it was then; Mrs Weasley was holding what looked like a little pink sausage with red hair – it was labelled "Jiny" in an untidy scrawl. It made him smile; suddenly struck with an idea he tapped it with his wand and copied it. He rolled it up and stuck it in his pyjama bottom pocket and headed back to the house to get ready for the funeral.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"This feels wrong," Percy said eyeing the funeral set up, "I know it's what he wanted but, I thought funerals should be a bit more tasteful."

Ginny punched his arm, "You better shut up, this is what he wanted and it's what George wanted. So shut your trap and sit. down." she hissed.

It wasn't bad at all actually considering it had been Fred and George's ideas. One would assume it would be akin to the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes decor, but it wasn't. Percy was just being his usual prim and proper self. The flower arrangements were beautiful; there were vast amounts of bright orange gerbera daisies, deep orange chrysanthemums, with smatterings of white lily of the valley flowers and the pale lilac of forget-me-nots entwined. The chairs were decidedly more comfortable that the ones Percy had suggested. They were pale purple and had comfortable cushions on the seat and on the back – they wouldn't have looked too out of place at Bill and Fleur's wedding had that been the shade of purple they had chosen. The music was the only other thing that had changed, instead of depressing the life out of everyone with a slow death march a more upbeat song had been chosen with a melancholy edge - it maintained a better atmosphere. It felt more like Fred and felt like a more appropriate way to remember him.

There weren't many guests at the funeral; the Weasley's decided to keep it a small affair so they themselves didn't feel too overwhelmed by it all. The family were all in attendance including Auntie Muriel whom had already insulted Mrs Weasley to a degree that caused a massive shouting match and now Muriel hadn't spoken one more word to anyone; much to the relief of everyone around her. Fred and George's school mates were there to say goodbye to their friend, namely the old Quidditch team. The surviving Order members were also there; Kingsley had dedicated time out of his busy schedule to attend all of the funerals of his fallen friends and comrades.

Molly had invited Andromeda too, as they had become quite close through correspondence when they were both in hiding. She had almost declined due to not being able to get a babysitter for little Teddy when Molly insisted she bring him. This was the first time any of the Weasleys and Harry and Hermione had had a chance to meet little Teddy, the end of the battle had been messy and whirlwind. Harry was most anxious to meet Teddy, he was his godfather there would surely be expectations. But as soon as Teddy seen him, he broke into a gummy grin and his hair turned black and stuck up in the back just like Harry's.

"Oh I think he likes you Harry," Andromeda said with a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "would you like to hold him?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, I don't know how to hold a baby" He said sounding very unsure of himself.

"Oh don't be silly, it's not hard and he's struggling out of my grip to get to you anyway. Here," she said holding Teddy out to be held.

Harry cautiously lifted Teddy out of Andromeda's arms and held him with his arm tucked under his padded nappy and the other resting on his back. Harry was naturally paternal it seemed. "Hello, Teddy, I'm Harry, your godfather," he said gently only to be shocked when Teddy's chubby fist reached up and grabbed his glasses from his face and stuffed one of the lenses in his mouth, coating it in sticky saliva.

"That's a bit spooky, he could be yours," Ginny said having just entered the living room, "Everyone is here and the service starts in ten minutes so I was just coming to get you all."

Harry extracted his glasses from Teddy's tiny fist and placed them back on his nose – now only able to see out of one side. He made to hand Teddy back to Andromeda but he started to fuss and settled only once securely in Harry's arms again.

"I don't blame him, he must be fed up with me. I'm not as young as I once was; I think he can sense my weariness," Andromeda sighed, "I'm looking forward to the stage when he'll sleep through the night. I might start to feel like myself again."

But Harry felt that while his time in knowing Andromeda had been very short; this was a woman who would never be the same again. Even with a decent night's sleep. During the first War on Voldemort; Andromeda had all but signed her death wish by refusing to join the Death Eaters and marrying a Muggle born instead. Then she built herself a family, only to lose them this time. Her husband and her daughter, whom for many years had been the only family she knew. Now she had Teddy, the constant reminder of what she had lost staring back at her.

Harry made his way down to the service which was being held at the end of the garden, just before the paddock over the boundary. Harry was very thankful for the distraction in the form of Teddy sitting on his lap. The pain of everyone around him, was bearing down upon him from all sides. Concentrating on Teddy was the only thing keeping him together; until he blinked and instead of Harry's own eyes staring up at him Remus's soft brown eyes were looking at him with gentle confusion. His eyes filled with tears and his throat closed, he looked at the grass between his shoes, and willed himself to get through the next few hours with the guilt eating away at his insides.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"And though Fred will no longer walk through life with us; we will remember him in everything that we do. He was a wonderful young man, he will never be forgotten to those who knew him best." Harry didn't realise that the funeral had ended until everyone around him got to their feet. He felt so overwhelmed with the sadness that it was like everything was in slow motion. He raised his eyes from the ground to see all the Weasleys gathered around George who was completely beside himself with grief. As was Mr and Mrs Weasley, their faces crumpled at the sight of their sons coffin descending into the ground. It felt final. Harry's ears were ringing, he felt sick. He spotted Andromeda to his left and all but threw Teddy at her and sprinted to the treehouse. He climbed the ladder, casting a muffliato charm as he did. He took a deep breath and let out every bit of grief and anger he could. He battered his fists against the walls until splinters imbedded themselves in his knuckles and they bled. He screamed and howled until his head pounded. It seemed Harry's downward spiral was beginning.