Those Left Behind

Fifteen

***Sorry for the wait! This one was pretty emotionally draining to write, so I hope you all enjoy it and aren't left too broken afterwards!***

The days following the battle went by slowly as if the pain that everyone was feeling had caused time to work differently. Nobody knew what to say to one another and because of it, they had resorted to saying practically nothing at all. Molly tried to focus on keeping everyone fed, but despite the many mouths to feed, it didn't distract her from the one that was no longer there. Everyone had given up on pretending like everything was fine, and had just learned to avert their gaze when someone broke down without warning.

With Percy having made amends with his family, Charlie's arrival, and Bill and Fleur deciding to stay and help, the house was at full capacity. Ron shared his small room with Harry, Percy and Charlie, Hermione joined Ginny in hers, and Fleur and Bill slept on the living room couch. The room that Fred and George had shared for their entire childhood sat vacant, with the door locked tight.

George refused to leave his bed, except to use the washroom, resulting in Olivia being the only one that had seen him in days. Every time she went down to the kitchen to get him food or water, the others would voice their concern. Molly and Arthur felt helpless and Olivia tried to reassure them, that she would do everything she could to take care of George, while also trying to take care of herself and the babies growing inside her. 

Everything was at a standstill as they waited for the day of the funeral to arrive. It was easy to deny that Fred was truly gone when they hadn't yet laid him to rest. Olivia kept trying to mention the funeral to George, but he continued to brush it off, insisting that they would talk about it later. His reluctance to accept what was happening, left her feeling like she was preparing for it all on her own. 

Unbeknownst to George, she had rewritten Fred's eulogy too many times to count. Going into the wee hours of the night, until there were crumpled balls of used parchment all around her feet. As the sun rose over The Burrow on the day of the funeral, Olivia still hadn't found the right words to say. She yawned loudly and rubbed her tired eyes, then stood up and cleaned the mess before George could wake up to see it.

The floorboards creaked as she made her way across the room, causing George to stir. He mumbled something incoherent, rolled over, and pulled the blanket up over his head. She let out a sigh of relief before tiptoeing the rest of the way. When she stepped out into the corridor, several sets of voices carried up the stairs towards her. They slowly grew louder until she reached the bottom of the stairs, where they reached maximum volume.

Molly was standing in between the kitchen and the living room, her eyes red and puffy while she barked orders at everyone else. Arthur stood off to the side with his sons, all of them dressed in matching black suits. Ginny, Fleur, Hermione and Harry all stared at Molly waiting for further instruction.

"Greenwood!", Charlie was the first one to notice Olivia, loudly addressing her by her last name. Her breath caught in her throat, as her thoughts went to Fred, the only one who had ever called her Greenwood. Everyone in the room turned towards her and she felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Sweetheart! There you are!", Molly blurted out, trying to force a smile.

"No George?", Percy inquired, his voice thick with emotion. Olivia responded with a small shake of her head, before turning her attention back to Molly.

"Is there anything that you would like me to do?", she asked quietly, while everyone else returned to what they had been doing moments earlier.

"Please make sure that George is at his own twin's funer-", unable to finish the last word, Molly fell silent. Arthur went straight to his wife and wrapped his arm around her.