Molly stood at the door with wide, teary eyes as she stared toward her son, Percy, who left and betrayed their family, but now appeared at the doorstep with the suitcase he left with in hand.
It was clear to the witch, her son had finally come home.
Life in the Burrow had not been the same since Percy abruptly took his leave after a fight with Arthur, and the way in which he departed - not a goodbye or an ‘I love you’ or a ‘this will not be forever’ - without even turning around to face Molly as he stormed out of the kitchen and Disapparated away?
It broke the matriarch.
Molly didn’t blame Percy in the slightest for his abrupt exit - the way Percy and Arthur ended things had been anything but loving let alone civil. She understood, but it didn’t mean the manner in which he chose to go didn't infuriate her, and it didn’t mean she agreed with his decision.
She would not change her children.
Molly would not treat her children the way her own mother treated her and Bilius, but it didn’t mean she had to agree with their decisions, and to be quite honest, she agreed with every word Arthur stated when Percy tried to defend his promotion and position.
Fudge proved time and time again, he could not be trusted. He proved to be nothing but a power hungry coward, afraid to stand up for what was right and true - all in fear of losing the title he’d earned himself over the years.
He Who Must Not Be Named had returned - whether Fudge chose to believe it to be true or not.
Harry wouldn’t lie.
Dumbledore wouldn’t lie.
All of the facts were staring the Wizarding World directly in the face, and Fudge refused to believe the truth.
Percy made a deal with the devil, and it would only mean horrible things to come for not only him but the Weasley’s as a whole. . . and that’s exactly what happened.
Percy behaved foolishly in his decision to turn against his family and take the promotion. He allowed his pride and need to prove himself to get in the way of his relationship with his family and their safety.
* * *
Flashback: The day Percy left.
Molly, with her wand in hand, was in the bedroom she shared with Arthur frantically and magically dusting and folding clothes and doing anything she could not to burst out of the room and dash down the stairs in order to stop the fighting between father and son.
She was a stubborn, strong-willed woman, who didn’t take orders well from anyone ever, but she and Arthur were a united front - she would not go against her husband in the middle of a scolding - especially one which held such importance.
The only reason she stopped her cleaning and stepped out of their bedroom was because she heard hushed laughter and name-calling coming from the hallway.
Molly stormed out of the room and quietly (but with no less ferocity) scolded Fred and George for daring to do such a thing when their Father and brother were having a serious conversation. Not to mention, she knew how sensitive Percy was, and there was a little voice in the back of her mind screaming, YOU’RE GOING TO LOSE HIM!
She shooed the boys into their rooms, but not before they released their jabs down the stairs.
Molly was furious with Fred and George, and she quietly swore they would pay for what they said.
It wasn’t long after she forced the twins back into their rooms and made her own way to her own, that she heard the slamming of Percy’s door from the floor above.
Molly made her way out of the room once more and quickly up the stairs. Something deep within her shouted, Check on your little boy!
There was an air in the home like there had never been before, and as she knocked on the door and entered, she saw Percy packing, causing her heart to sink to her stomach.
She felt as if she was going to be ill. What happened in between the room and the back door where Percy took his leave was very much a blur, but all Molly could remember as she tried to grab his suitcase and chased her boy down the stairs was: STOP HIM! STOP HIM! DON’T LET HIM LEAVE!
Molly lost her brothers to the war, she never had a close relationship with her mother, and therefore after leaving home, she even lost most contact with her father.
Bilius married and had a life of his own, and though he was the most of whom she saw throughout the years, he died before she got the chance to even try and become closer with him again.
There was only Molly left in the Prewett family, and mark her very words, whilst there was breath in her lungs, she would do everything in her power not to lose anyone else in her life again, especially her children.
She would never forget reaching the door and following Percy outside, only to be left standing there as the light Popping sound rang in her ears when her son disappeared.
Molly stood in shock and disbelief as she stared out before the property of the Burrow.
Her chest began to rise and fall, and her legs became jelly as she tried to will herself to move . . . but she could not.
Percy was gone.
It wasn’t until she felt the familiar hand of Arthur resting on her back, and his voice saying in what she knew to be a somber tone for him, “My dear. . .” that she finally turned and crashed into him, releasing her sobs into his chest.
She gripped the front of the robes he wore and cried. “He’s gone. . .”
Arthur said nothing. He wrapped his arms around Molly, and the two stood together at the back doorway in silence.
* * *
No. Life in the Burrow had not been the same, but as Molly stared at Percy, whom she hadn’t seen in quite awhile, all she could do was step forward and wrap her arms around him.
She stood in the same spot in the back doorway where she had been when he left all of those months ago, held her son, and praised Merlin he finally returned home.
It wasn’t long after, Molly broke free from the embrace and examined Percy up and down, taking note of how very different he appeared now.
He was far too thin, and he looked exhausted and aged - not in the way one does as they are maturing through life.
He looked much older than he actually was in years, and it only begged her to question: What had he been doing all of those months whilst he was away?
It saddened Molly, but instead of giving him grief, she decided to go with the more softer, motherly approach.
Of course she remained angry with him for leaving their family. Of course she wasn’t alright with the pain he put her and the others through. . .
She could yell and scream, but what was the point of kicking a dog when he was clearly down?
“Come inside, dear.” She took his suitcase from his hand and turned. “Come inside and have something to eat. You’re far too skinny for my liking.” Another pause, and the witch drew her wand with her free hand and waved it toward the kettle already resting on the stove. The eye flamed as it turned on. “This is what happens when your mother isn’t around to make sure you’re eating.”
Molly took Percy’s belongings and placed them down by one of the many cupboards in the kitchen.
The kettle whistled moments later, alerting it was finished. This was one of the many beauties of using magic to help with cooking. It was far more efficient!
Molly, who was now rummaging through the fridge, waved her wand once toward the stove to turn off the eye, and again, followed by an inward ‘Accio!’ to one of the many mugs resting on the shelves.
The mug followed command and leapt from where it sat and flew across the room. As if she knew her mugs and how they traveled when summoned,
Molly shot up from behind the door of the fridge with a carton of fresh eggs in one hand and a wrapped slab of bacon between her teeth. She caught the mug with her free hand.
With a kick of her boot to the fridge, the door closed and Molly made her way over to the stove.
The eggs and bacon were placed on the counter, and the mug was filled with tea. She brought it over to the large wooden table in the middle of the kitchen and sat it down.
“Have a seat, dear. It’ll be breakfast for supper this evening.”
She didn’t know why Percy returned, and though curious she may have been, in this very moment she didn’t care.
All that mattered to Mrs. Weasley was her son was safe and had returned home.