Title: Humpty Dumpty

Character: Lucy Weasley and the Weasley family.

Notes: This is in honour of Lucy Weasley; not just her, but everybody we know who has died far before their time. Only the good die young, after all. Please; give this freeverse a go. It's not as long as it seems. Thank you.

They sit, gathered,
a sea of black
in a world that has lost its col/our.
"Please stand."
And they do, ((shakily))
with hands w-i-d-e and reaching
and knees struggling not to give way
to the {grief}.
So much grief for ones so young.

They are in subtle pairs -
{Lucy won that bet, as well.
Suppose five galleons won't help her here.}
{She was going to be a bridesmaid.}
{Lucy teased them the most.}
{Who she proclaimed to be a match made in heaven.}
{Purely platonic, but s~w~e~e~t all the same.}
{Lucy never did forgive her.}
{Brothers 'til the end,
no girls or house ties are going to get in their way}.
{Lucy never trusted her,
but she makes Hugo :happy:}
{Because she can put him back
t|o|g|e|t|h|e|r | a|g|a|i|n}.

And Lucy,
poor Lucy,
who fell off her |wall|
alone in her coffin;
where all the lights are outout.

Rose goes first,
her face streaked with passionate tears -
a writer.
(The one thing her and Lucy had in {{common}},
butnomatter -
they *loved* each other anyway).

"She was the brightest of all of us -
And I don't just mean that
in a literal sense.
She was going places;
going fa-a-ar.
Lucy was going to change the world,
and I think, in some way,
she already has.
Love you, Luce. Shine bright."

Scorpius catches Rose on her way
as he has always done -
and holds her close, his face a s.t.a.t.u.e.
But a sad statue.

Roxanne goes next.
"She always had so much life -
I always admired that.
She gave us all a voice."
Here, she glances at her boyfriend.
"And hey:
maybe she can kick Uncle Fred up there
for leaving {{us}} too."
Lorcan nods bravely at Roxanne's side,
but says nothing,
mute to those who are deaf enough
not to l-l-listen.

Teddy, his hair dark brown,
makes his way
to the p^e^d^e^s^t^a^l.
"Lucy was always proud of what she did,
of herself,
of us.
If anyone needed inspiration,
Luce had buckets of it."
His gaze turns to the heavens.
"I hope she gives
the Marauders
a run for their money."

Victoire -
gasps sound,
because the ice queen doesn't talk much
unless it's to flip o-f-f
and tell them exactly where to go,
along with her cousin
Lily -
but Victoire stands alongside
her long-term boyfriend,
her platinum hair
standing out in the crowd
that is now silent.

"Lucy was a brilliant kid -
loyal, passionate,
a classic Gryffindork."
The Slytherin beauty s-s-smirks.
"But hey:
not everyone can be perfect,
and she sure as hell wasn't.
We still loved her, though.
And she loved us more than we {{deserved}},
used it to her advantage, too.
Well; what are you gonna do?
be sure to make dear old Dumbledore
ro-o-oll in his grave
when he hears that the youngest Weasley
is all too Ssssslytherin."

Everyone but the family look horrified,
but it's t r u e.
And Victoire has brought a
little bit of normality
to the proceedings.

Lily stands
with her designer Muggle sunglasses
and thigh-high Muggle boots
that her daddy constantly mocks her for.
"Lucy was - great.
No other word for it.
She was kind, thoughtful, and-"
Lily gives a h!a!r!s!h giggle.
"- and I probably never
deserved to call her my cousin."

Louis walks up to her
his beret ever so slightly /lopsided\ -
and he hears a few laughs,
and they say he looks like
that Muggle
from a T.V program years ago.
Kurt something-or-other.
Louis something-or-other.
"Lucy never cared
what people thought,
'cause hell,
she was Lucy Weasley
and she was pretty damn near perfect."

Dom, Dom -
lovely Dominique,
making a p^o^i^n^t
to outshine everything
Lucy ever stood for.
"We were never |close| -
but it didn't matter.
We were family.
Always will be.
No one shines *brighter* than you, Luce."
She keeps it short,
to the p^o^i^n^t -
much like her, and her hair,
and her dress,
and her r~e~l~a~t~i~o~n~s~h~i~p~s -
(Run, Michael, run, Michael,

James walks the -tightrope-
to that dreaded stage
and ruffles his hair.
"Lucy -
Lucy was the kid you always
and kind of envied.
Nobody could hate her -
not even me.
And I think that says something."
He looks into the crowd,
and winks.
"And for a kid,
she was pretty damn c!u!t!e, too."

Albus rolls his eyes,
and sidesteps the -tightrope-.
"She was our cousin;
a bit too Gryffindor for me,
but her Slytherin side
always came out a bit more at Christmas.
Something 'bout the mistletoe,
I think.
Hope you get to set
all the mistletoe in the world

Hugo practically pulls Kathleen
to the f.r.o.n.t
and flashes his sad,
boyish smile.
"I think Lucy, if she were here,
would tell us exactly
how idiotic we were being.
I'd probably agree.
She was the brightest star,
a diamond
in her own right.
We have a promise -
no, a duty -
to keep that spark going."
He raises the hand
that clutches the pureblood girl's.
"To Lucy Weasley!"

The crowd gives soft cheers
and silent tears
and everything is d-d-dulled,
and d-d-dimmed,
and I agree;
Lucy would hate it.

Fred, the closest to Lucy,
the best friend,
the boy who had already lost
so much,
gets to his feet next.
So does Cassidy,
the Muggle who looks
ever so slightly lost
amidst these robes
and fLoAtInG cAnDlEs.
She {{holds}} Fred's hand, though -
Lucy and Fred called each other
Humpty Dumpty,
after all.
Fred ch-ch-chokes on his words,
his mouth curled downwards.
Cassidy picks them up again.
"When I was little,
I used to love the - um -
Muggle band,
the Beatles.
There was a song called
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.
I kind of regret never forcing
Lucy to listen to it.
It's a beautiful song
for a b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l girl."
Fred nods,
and hums a little of the tune.
It might as well be
a choir of angels.

Then, last but not least,
comes the final brigade,
hearts ablaze
and eyes on FIRE,
baking out of the trenches
to face No Man's Land
where the coffin lays.

The thought that echoes
through the two that remain
she's gone.
she's gone.
she's gone.


"Please," Molly begs,
and I want to stretch out my hand
comfort the child
who knows no better
than to grieve.
"She's just sleeping."

She's sleeping.
She's sleeping.
She's sleeping.

Just sleeping.

"My baby, my baby,"
on the tree tops.
They're her favourite.
Pocket full of poises,"
atishoo, atishoo, we all fall down.
"Lucy and Molly,
such sweet girls,"
F. A. L. L. I. N. G.

They sit, gathered,
a sea of black
in a world that should be just as dim
now its light's gone outout.
poor Lucy.
Mama's coming, my ~baby~ girl.
We can put you back
|together again|.

For Lucy, the girl who deserved diamonds. Thank you for reading!