molly_wobbler (molly_wobbler) wrote in breaking_point, @ 2010-02-24 09:57:00 |
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RP: Three funerals
Who: Anyone and Everyone (add your tags)
Where: Cemetery in Ottery St. Catchpole
When: 24 February, 2025, afternoon
Rating/Warnings: N/A
Summary: Funerals of Arthur Weasley, Angelina Weasley, Gideon Prewett.
It was cold and grey. Molly wasn't sure if she'd expected anything else, really. Certainly hadn't hoped for anything different. She'd spent the morning surrounded by her family, dressed in simple, elegant black, something Transfigured by Fleur since she literally hadn't anything suitable to wear. Eaten very little. Managed a cup of tea.
And now she stood, surrounded by her children, listening to descriptions of her husband. Her brother. Her daughter. Bill's hand covered hers where it rested on his arm, keeping her steady. Keeping her from falling. Keeping her steady during what felt like a never-ending stream of words.
She put a gloved hand to the polished wood of Arthur's casket, a single tear coursing down her cheek. How was she supposed to stand this? Could she watch this box descend into the cold ground without dying herself?
It turned out that she could, with Bill's strong arm around her. Arthur found his place in the plot they'd chosen, her own stone waiting for the inscription of the date she'd join him. Angelina was lovingly settled nearby, with a pale George watching over her. Gideon, separated from his twin by some miracle of life, was lowered to join him again in death. A fresh date marked his headstone, signaling another end.
Molly knelt beside her brother's open grave, taking up a handful of earth. "I'll always be grateful for this extra time with you," she whispered, letting the dirt fall from her fingers. "My little brother. Brave and good. Godspeed..."
She stood with difficulty, then moved to Angelina. "Not daughter of my body," she said softly, letting earth sprinkle from her hand. "But daughter of my heart..."
And now she returned to Arthur. "My love," she breathed, stepping away from Bill to kneel alone at the graveside, taking up one last handful of earth. "My one. My only. I won't rush to join you, but rest assured that I will join you, just the same." Dirt spattered into the hole. "Wait for me, love. For me, it might be years, but for you..." She brushed off her hands. "I'll be there soon..."
Molly knelt another moment, then raised a hand toward her son, using his strength to get to her feet. It was done, this thing. This mortal thing. This end of life. The only thing that could be done. To send them home with dignity and love.