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Title: Pyre Prayers
Author's Notes: Used the picture prompt. Love you, mods!
Bill bowed his head as flames rose from the memorial fire. All around him, families gathered in clumps, as if huddling tightly together would fill the void that had been left by the departed. Unconsciously, his hands rose to his face and his fingers traced the scars that had been left on his face. With his other hand, he pulled Fleur closer into his side. Despite the massive bonfire, the chill of the late spring night seemed to permeate his being and she seemed to be the only light left in the world.
As he watched the fire burn, Bill’s first prayer was for Fred--that he be safe and happier than George and those he left behind. The next prayer was for Lupin and Tonks--that they were together in a place where they could happily watch Teddy grow up. Dumbledore--that his tired eyes would be able to get some rest and twinkle again. Katie Bell. Dobby. Snape. Cedric Diggory. Moody. There were so many to pray for, gone before their time. His last prayer, however, was for his unborn children. And all those of their generation--that they would never have to know this ache, this pain, this brokenness of war.
Warnings: Implied Weasleycest.
Author's Notes: I'll let you figure out who the narrator is ;)
She is beautiful. Long lines, feminine bones, flowing hair. I envy him for having her.
Standing there in front of the bonfire we hold in memory of our lost brother, one who loved fire almost as much as I do (but only when he was blowing things up), she makes my body burn and my heart throb in ways which take my breath away.
Suddenly, she is not alone. Another long lined, finely boned body with flowing hair steps up to her, wrapping toned arms around her slender waist. She is pulled close, her lips are kissed. She loses herself in the darkness, warmth surely washing over the pair of them.
A flash of light brightens the sky; pink, yellow, green, blue sparks exploding from a firework. The colours mesh to simply form bright, blinding light, but I can only look at the pair of them. They are still kissing, completely lost in one another. The throb in my chest turns to an ache.
I envy them for having one another, but especially her, for having him.
Title: April 1, 1999
Author's Notes: I did not invent this tradition, and yes, I've done it. ;D
"Ze family bonfire was a wonderful idea, Beel," Fleur whispered.
"Thanks, love," Bill whispered, "but George still looks sad."
"Nothing will make him completely happy—he'll never again share his birthday with Fred."
"I miss George's mischievous laugh. Maybe there's something I can do." Bill stood and announced, "I dare all of you to jump over the bonfire."
"You're mental!" Ron shouted, and the rest of the Weasley's laughed.
"No, I'm serious. My friend Atis at Gringotts told me it's a Latvian tradition. I'll start." Bill's family stared at him as he began to back up from the fire. Bill got a running start, pushed off from the ground, and cleared the fire completely. All of the Weasley's cheered.
"Did you use some sort of charm on yourself?" Harry asked.
"No magic allowed."
"I'm in!" Fleur moved away as Bill had done, ran towards the fire, and soared gracefully over it, as if she were performing ballet.
George hopped up. "I'm next!" Bill and Fleur shared a smile as George jumped the bonfire. "That was brilliant! Fred would have loved this!" George's eyes twinkled as he grinned.
Bill shouted, "Aren't you Gryffindors? Jump the fire in memory of Fred!"
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