Angels Brought Me Here (George Weasley)

In My Daughter's Eyes

There were surprisingly few people stood outside of the church on the breezy July morning on which Genevieve's beloved mother was to be buried. Not that such a thing ever particularly troubled the woman, who had been raised in the knowledge that the quality of those around you was far more valuable than the quantity. 

Her parents had never been the type to involve themselves in large, expansive, boisterous groups of friends, and she had unintentionally followed in their footsteps. 

She couldn't help but notice how quiet the little graveyard appeared, however. Stood within it were herself, George and, of course, Mel. There were a few other people dotted about, childhood friends that the woman had remained in contact with, and neighbours she had been close with. But definitely not enough to qualify as a large gathering. 

Genevieve's parents had lost a lot of their friends during the war, when they had decided to go into hiding, especially her mother. Being a muggle, she couldn't tell her own friends what was going on, and therefore they had all just presumed she had cut ties with them. It was a shame, really, but Genevieve knew her mother had never minded, so long as her family were safe. 

Following her discussion with Mel in the weeks prior, she had felt a spark in her psyche to celebrate her mother's life, rather than remain in the depressive state she had found herself in. Undoubtedly, at twenty-one years of age, she felt incredibly young to be an orphan, and the loss of her mother, however expected, had affected her remarkably. However she knew her mother would never want her to waste much time wallowing, as it achieved nothing, frankly. She was a largely stoic woman, who in her heyday wasted no time on emotions unless it was impossible to hold them within herself. Controversial in the modern age, she would always say, but effective nonetheless. 

"Jenny, dear, are we too late?" She was startled from her thoughts by a voice calling from behind her, and she jumped to see the entire Weasley family stood, sympathy written all over their faces.

"Mrs Weasley! Not at all, she hasn't arrived yet," Jenny felt tears well up in her eyes, no matter how much she wanted to hold herself together, such a kind act was always going to bring out her emotional side, "You didn't have to come, you didn't even know my mother," 

"Nonsense! Of course we had to come, you're family," Mrs Weasley insisted, and Jenny had to summon all of her willpower to keep herself composed. 

"Thank you, it means more than I could explain," She blinked back the tears as Mrs Weasley held her hands, squeezing them tightly. She glanced around at the rest of the family, ensuring that they all knew how appreciative she was. 

It didn't take long for the hearse to arrive, and Jenny felt her legs buckling beneath her as she saw the coffin within it, smaller than she had expected, and bringing with it the startling realisation that her mother was within the small wooden box, and she wouldn't be coming out of it. She was extra grateful in that moment for George, who supported her both mentally and physically, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist holding her upright, a kiss pressed to the side of her head, ensuring that she knew he was there for her. 

They followed the coffin into the small church, and took their seats in the very front row, alongside Mel, who was even more visibly moved than Jenny, as she appeared to clutch the sides of her seat for dear life.

Jenny felt the lump in her throat growing thicker, as she realised it was time for her to give her mother the best farewell speech she could muster. She stood slowly, reluctant to let go of George's hand as she did so, making her way to the pillar at the front, clearing her throat. 

"My Mother's name was Louise Crawford. To me, though, her name was Mummy, and she was the best one there ever was. She sacrificed an awful lot by marrying my father and deciding to become a mother, more than a lot of you in this room could possibly comprehend, but she never for one moment regretted the decisions that she made. She was a woman who oozed positivity, and love, and there was never a room she couldn't light up simply by walking into it. The last few years were challenging for her, what with becoming poorly, and then losing Dad so suddenly. But I don't want to dwell too much on that version of her, the version we didn't really recognise," 

The room was silent, except for the audible sniffs coming from those who were touched by the words Jenny was speaking. She felt unable to look out to see who it was, looking instead down at the ground, praying her parents would send her the strength she needed to give the remainder of the speech.

"It's funny, I think so many of you will remember my mother very differently to the way I'll always remember her. She came across incredibly serious, she took no shit, and on that topic I'm sure she's trying to break out of that coffin to tell me off for saying a bad word. But when she was at home, in her happy place, surrounded by her family, there was hardly a moment her beautiful face wasn't completely consumed by a smile. Even when my father and I were getting on her absolute final nerve, she would still laugh along and grin from ear to ear. She was a woman with such a gigantic heart, I'm not sure it's even physically possible. She would give you the clothes off her back, if you needed it she would give you her last penny to make sure you didn't have to go without. She was the most magical, inspirational, incredible person. And I am going to miss her every single day,"

Jenny took a breath, trying to compose herself to finish the final part of her speech. She finally looked up, and locked eyes with George, who very subtly nodded his head, a sad but encouraging smile on his face, and that was all she needed. 

"I know that wherever she is now, she and my father are enjoying a nice glass of red wine together, listening to some of their favourite songs and finally catching up, just like they used to do when my Dad would return at the end of the week when he worked away. They're probably mocking me for something, the way I've styled my hair or the shoes I've chosen, but I wouldn't have had them any other way. And one day, I'll always tell stories to my own children of the madly in love couple that is their Grandma and Grandpa Crawford. I hope we can celebrate their lives, rather than mourn them. That's what they would have wanted us to do," 

It was a blunt end, but there was nothing more Jenny needed to say. She knew that by finishing her speech, she was concluding the funeral service, and in a few moments time her mother would be buried alongside her father, and then the next chapter of Jenny's life would begin. The end had arrived for the young girl who had cared for her dying and confused mother, now she could truly focus on herself, and make sure she had what she needed and wanted. She would always miss her parents, it was a given. But she was also ready for the rest of her life.