The Service

2008

Angelina feels the stares before she can see the faces. Most of the attendees at this event are not happy to see her. Even though she's been estranged from the Weasley family since her betrothal to her current husband, she's received a personal invitation to attend this service - the annual memorial for Fred, George, Molly, and Ginny.

As she's taking in the unfriendly faces, she feels a tug of her right hand and lowers her gaze towards her son, William-Jude, nicknamed B.J. He has her dark hair and eyes, but his freckles, nose and grin scream Weasley.

"Do you see your dad's name?" she asks softly.

The stocky ten-year-old nods his head, a white rose clutched to his chest.

"Go put the flower on his grave, then," she suggests, and he runs across the cemetery to his father's headstone.

Her current husband's nine-year-old son, Thuban, remains at her side, right hand still entwined in her left. He, too, clutches a white rose, but also a red one, at his father's insistence. He is less welcome here, having only met his mother's family a few times. He scans the crowd coolly, his face blank. He is definitely his father's son, she thinks.

B.J.'s voice cuts through the tension, drawing Thuban's attention to the headstones. "Look! Your Mum's name is next to my Dad's." The tall, angular blond stoically walks over to his best friend's side, before stooping to lay the roses down.

Angelina smiles. This is why she is here today, putting up with the stares and coldness from former in-laws, friends, and battle comrades. She came for her son, who is a daily reminder that Fred Weasley lived, loved, and fought for the survival of all Wizardkind. She came for her stepson, who inherited his mother's stubbornness and Chaser skills and whose birth defied a two hundred year family feud. She knew they needed to be re-acquainted with their relatives, no matter the cost to herself. Merlin knows neither will have the chance to know the other side of their family.

Bracing herself as if for battle, she walks over to the edge of the crowd. She has timed their arrival with the end of the service and the crowd has scattered into small groups. Scanning the crowd, she locks eyes with Remus and Nymphadora "Tonks" Lupin, who both smile and wave. Angelina breathes a sigh of relief; she's not completely friendless today. Indeed, Tonks and a very reluctant Remus had attended her wedding, the only friends -- besides her maid of honour, Alicia Spinnet -- who had.

She's about to greet the couple, when she notices an elderly wizard, hair thinning but still flame red, break from the pack containing the remaining Weasley clan and walk in her direction. She has always carried a soft spot for her former father-in-law. She stops and makes eye contact, a faint smile on her lips. "Arthur."

"Angelina. You came," he says. His voice is soft and weary, yet it still conveys strength.

"Of course, Arthur. How could I not? You came to my home and invited me personally. Besides, I loved Fred very much. I think I always will."

"What does your new husband think of that?"

"He understands. How could he not? He loved Ginny so much." Arthur's face registers surprise at her words, but she continues. "Our pasts don't mean our love isn't strong." She pauses again, waving her hand as if erasing the past. "I'm sure you don't want to hear about that. Thuban and William-Jude are Weasleys. They need know their heritage. They should never forget that they had a parent who made the ultimate sacrifice to keep them safe and free."

"And your unborn child?" Arthur's eyes graze over the swollen belly hidden under her royal purple maternity robes. At his scrutiny, Angelina fells slightly embarrassed; her robes cost almost as much as Arthur's annual Ministry salary. She should have given better thought to her wardrobe.

"He will know his heritage as well. But, unlike his brothers, he won't have a grandfather, uncles, aunts and cousins." Her eyes slightly mist as she recalls all of the dead from the Wizarding World War, including both her parents as well as her husband's.

Arthur nods his head and looks over at B.J. and Thuban, who, having finished paying their respects at their respective parents' grave, have wandered over to where most of their cousins -- redheads all -- stand. B.J., who spent summers with his cousins for the first seven years of his life, looks more comfortable in the Weasley orbit. Thuban, as usual, hangs back until his step-brother pulls him along.

Angelina and Arthur watch them in silence for a few moments before he speaks again. "I apologize for the...problems you've had with my sons." The younger Weasley men had been aghast at Angelina's relationship with a former Death Eater (an Order spy, true, but a Death Eater nonetheless). When she had become betrothed, Ron and Bill attempted a "hostile takeover" of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes catalogue business by calling in her loans through Gringotts. She had fought them, but it had been a losing battle, as the family, save Arthur, sided against her. She had eventually sold the inventory to Bill for half its value. Fortunately, with interest, the money would still be enough to ensure B.J. a sizable vault when he came of age.

"You were always good to me, Arthur, and I am grateful," Angelina replies. "As long as my sons are accepted and loved as part of the family, it does not matter what Bill, Charlie, and Ron think of me or how I live my life."

"They will be accepted, you have my word. I may not have Molly's temper, but my wishes do carry weight with the boys. My grandsons will not suffer." He turns back to the boys, who are awkwardly talking Quidditch with their cousins. "Who knew that a Weasley could sire a child without red hair?" Arthur muses, and they share a chuckle. Angelina is amazed at Arthur's ability to always set her at ease.

"The family is gathering at the Burrow next Sunday. Will you bring the boys? Their cousins will be happy for some decent competition in the Quidditch game after lunch."

"I'll have to check with..."Angelina begins and then notices Arthur's face start to drop. "They'll be there, Arthur. Will you owl me the time?"

The smile returns to his face and he agrees.

Angelina bids Arthur good-bye and walks toward Fred's final resting place. Nine years have dulled the sting of Fred's death, yet a lump still forms in her throat as she stands before his headstone. He had died nine months after B.J.'s birth, during a battle in the old Diagon Alley, so proud--and so scared--of being a new father. She turns to see the Weasley clan staring at her, most of them quizzically, Ron with contempt. She lays her hand on Fred's headstone, closes her eyes briefly and whispers the Wizard's chant for departed souls. She has so much to tell him, mostly about their son's almost supernatural Beater skills, but it will have to wait until she's under less scrutiny.

Angelina calls B.J. and Thuban to her side. They follow her to the edge of the cemetery, where they all touch a baby rattle Portkey. Seconds later, they appear in the foyer of their London freehold. She sends the boys to the kitchen with the house elf, Breezy, for lunch, but not before B.J. gives her a tight hug and thanks her for taking him to his father's grave.

She leans against the staircase railing and slips her shoes off her swelling feet. The trip has left her mentally drained, as she had prepared herself for a confrontation, and the Portkey trip has awakened Max, whose wild kicking is rapidly becoming uncomfortable. Still, she realizes the trip may start a new chapter in her sons' lives, so it has been a success.

Smiling to herself, she walks up the stairs to her bedroom to take a nap. She will return to the cemetery later, with Draco, so they can pay respects to their former lovers in peace.

Frederick Gideon Weasley

01/04/1978 - 17/06/1999

Ginevra Molly Weasley

11/08/1981 - 30/11/1999