Country: United Kingdom
April 30, 2020
06/29/2020 01:34 PM
Comfort ft. Madamn Bones
Part of acting as Head Girl, especially during exam time, was making sure everyone was where they needed to be, when they needed to be. There was a list of students for each house given to the Head Boy and Girl, and, periodically, they were meant to do a headcount to make sure that all pupils were (as stated above) in their respective areas at the respective times.***
This particular evening, Amelia Bones was missing.
She was not your usual student and was constantly causing some sort of trouble. There wasn’t a week that went by, the young, fiery red-haired Gryffindor wasn’t sent to Professor McGonagall’s office by none other than Molly Prewett. The seventh year had a very low tolerance for fighting and misbehaving - especially when one seemed to get more kicks out of being rebellious than they did actually learning and taking school seriously.
Molly often wondered what in Merlin’s name happened to this child to cause her to be so angry.
“Bones, Amelia is the only pupil unaccounted for. She’s meant to be in Potions lessons.” Arthur Weasley, who was Head Boy, looked up from his clipboard. “Slughorn promises he’ll let her make up the exam, but if she’s more than half an hour late, twenty points will be taken for extreme tardiness. She’ll fail entirely if she doesn’t show.”
“Damn child.” Molly rolled her eyes and shoved her quill behind her ear. Her clipboard was placed on one of the many tables in the Prefect lounge. “Doesn’t she care at all? She’s only in her first year. I don’t see how she’s going to make it through six more.”
“I suppose that’s up to her to decide.” Arthur wrapped his arms around Molly. “It’s quite hilarious though.”
Molly quirked a brow, but she didn’t fight the hold he now had her in. “What’s hilarious?”
“You.” Arthur grinned. “I love it when you get all fired up, especially over a first year you don‘t even know.”
Molly’s eyes narrowed, and she smacked Arthur’s chest playfully. “I’ll show you fired up, Arthur Weasley.”
“I know you will.”
“I just don’t understand. I tried to help her. I tried to care, but it’s those who just have no care for. . . even themselves, or so it seems, that I have a really hard time giving a damn about.”
Molly let out a little grumble and Arthur pecked her lips.
“Well. What are you going to do about it now? It’s our responsibility to make sure she gets to class. She’s got-” He paused and looked at his watch. “-fifteen minutes before she loses twenty points on her exam. You know the First Year Exams are just as important as all of the others.”
Molly pulled away and nodded. “I know. I know. I suppose I could fetch McGonagall and let her handle it, but I don’t think there would be enough time to do that and get her to the exam. " Molly paused and rolled her eyes. "I'll just go and find her. Have any suggestions of where I should look?”
“The loo. I’ve noticed you ladies always go to the lavatory when you want some alone time.”
“So observant, you are,” Molly teased through a smile. “I’ll catch you later, Weasley.”
It wasn’t long after leaving the Prefect Lounge, Molly found herself entering the Girls Lavatory. Her attention was drawn to the center stall when she heard sniffles and insults being spewed toward Moaning Myrtle by none other than the girl she was looking for, Amelia Bones.
Molly smiled when she thought about Arthur and how he’d been right.
“Myrtle, if you don’t go away, I’ll hex you!” the voice of Amelia boomed from the toilet where she was currently hiding.
“Hehehehe! You’ll definitely fail those exams for sure. Everyone knows you can’t hex what’s already dead.”
There was another loud grunt and what sounded like an attack against the wall.
“I said get lost!” There was more kicking and punching noises against the stall. It sounded like there was a wild animal on the other side.
Molly shook her head. “Oh, Amelia.”
Moaning Myrtle let out one of her ear-piercing cries.
Molly cringed. She hated that bloody sound!
“No one ever wants to play with me - even when they are crying and need comfort! I understand more than anyone else about pain.”
“I said go away Myrtle!” More booming kicks and punches came from behind the stall. “Just leave me alone!”
Molly rushed forward with her wand drawn - not that she could do anything because Myrtle was correct: there was no harming what was already dead.
“Bones? Bones? Is that you?” Molly banged on the stall with her fist not holding her wand. “Amelia, are you alright?”
The kicking and punching and screaming from Amelia continued on the other side.
She didn’t answer Molly’s inquiry.
Moaning Myrtle was now hovering just beside where Molly stood.
“Oh hello.” Myrtle smiled and tilted her head to the side. It was not the usual friendly smile, but more of a devious one. “If the cry baby won’t allow me to comfort her, maybe you’ll have more luck.”
Amelia’s screams continued from the other side.
“Get lost, Myrtle.” Molly glared toward the ghost. She'd never been a fan of the girl. She was all for understanding pain, but Myrtle was whiny, and there was a difference between actual pain and the constant need to bitch and moan. “- - Because believe me, I will find a way to hex you, if you don't.”
“Fine! I know when I’m not wanted!” Myrtle shouted out in obvious anger. She charged and went right through Molly’s body, sending a shivering sensation down her spine.
Molly shook her head and brushed off the cold, bone-chilling feeling and returned her attention to Amelia. She pointed her wand toward the stall where the girl was currently (and very loudly) ‘hiding’.
“Alohomora!” The lock of the stall unlatched and the door flew open and out fell Amelia directly toward Molly. It was obvious Amelia was just about to punch the door of the stall when it opened before she could.
Molly caught Amelia in her arms, and she bent to her knees in order to hold her steady.
Amelia began to hit and kick the air now. Her fists and shoes attacked Molly every now and then.
Molly took the beating.
There was kicking, screaming, crying and lots of incoherent words which left the lips of Amelia.
Molly didn’t know what in Merlin’s name was going on, but there was definitely something very wrong with this child. . . she just hadn’t yet figured out what. It was obvious Amelia needed someone to lash out on, so Molly decided to allow her to treat her as her temporary punching bag.
Believe it or not, Molly, too, understood anger and pain and fear. . . and there was something this child needed that she didn’t have at that very moment. Molly chose to comfort and treat Amelia like she would if she had a child of her own.
What would she do if Amelia was her daughter?
Molly would hug her little girl. She knew when she, herself, was upset, just feeling the pressure of another body against her own worked wonders . . .so maybe. . . just maybe, it would work with Amelia.
Molly wrapped her arms around Amelia, embracing her tight - but not too tight to where she might feel she couldn’t breathe - and shushed her softly.
Amelia fought the hold at first. She tried to break away whilst more grumbles and growls left her lungs. . . but Molly didn’t stop. There was something inside of her that told her she was doing the right thing by embracing her peer.
Molly was right. It was only a few moments later when Amelia began to calm down and give into the embrace.
Amelia’s arms wrapped around Molly now, which prompted her to tighten her grip a little more. Her hand came up to rest against Amelia’s back, and she ran it up and down in what she hoped was a soothing manner.
Amelia’s breathing began to slow down and Molly felt the girl’s body growing heavier against her own. It was as if she was giving into the comfort of the hug and allowing herself to be free of the tension she was holding moments ago.
“Would you like to tell me what’s the matter?” Molly asked as she slowly pulled away. Her hands came up to rest against Amelia’s face.
She wiped the leftover tears away.
It was at this very moment, Molly completely forgot all of the trouble Amelia had put her through for the entirety of the year, and, instead, what she saw was a very broken girl who needed some guidance.
Molly could see the wave of uncertainty dancing in Amelia’s eyes. It was clear she was trying to decide if Molly could be trusted or not.
“I’m a good listener. I assure you.” Molly stood to her feet. “. . . but whilst you decide, let’s also get you cleaned up and ready for Potions. Professor Slughorn is waiting.”
“I’m not going, Prewett.” Amelia crossed her arms over her chest.
“Oh? Why not?” Molly looked to Amelia through the mirror of one of the bathroom sinks she now stood over.
She was wetting a paper towel to wipe Amelia’s face of the remaining tears and to hopefully bring down the red in her cheeks. Molly more than anyone else understood what it was like to bear red hair and deal with her skin turning the same shade - if not brighter - when even the slightest hint of emotion decided to rise from within.
“I don’t want to.” Amelia’s tone sounded rather indignant.
“Don’t you want to return as a Second Year rather than repeat your first?” Molly bent down on her knees once more and began wiping Amelia’s face.
Amelia fought Molly’s touch again at first, but it wasn’t long until she settled and allowed her to dab her face with the towel.
“Yes, but it’s no use. I always fail exams.” Amelia’s eyes watered, and one single tear fell from her cheeks. “I always go completely mad beforehand.” Another tear fell. Molly pulled back from the dabbing by now. “My chest tightens. I get hot. I can’t think. I see red.”
Molly watched as Amelia began shaking. Her heart ached for the girl. In hopes Amelia would cease her shaking, Molly grabbed and held her tightly once more. Amelia didn’t fight the hold this time. Instead, Molly felt as she gave into the embrace.
“Those are called Panic Attacks.” Molly said when she drew back. She continued dabbing Amelia’s face with the towel once again. “There’s got to be some accommodations given to you. Maybe you can test in a different room. We could propose you being given as much time as you need, and one single monitor who checks on you periodically.” Molly found herself feeling the need to advocate for Amelia. ‘This is what you're good at,’ something told her deep inside. “I’m sure there are certain medicinal herbs which can be taken via tea to help calm your nerves beforehand. Maybe even Pomfrey has something you could be prescribed to take during exams.” Molly was becoming rather enthusiastic about the entire endeavor. “Have you told anyone?”
This was when Amelia pulled away. “No. I’m not telling anyone. Everyone will think I’m a freak! They’ll laugh - possibly send me home, even!”
“No they won’t. They can help you succeed.” Molly watched Amelia shake her head just before she began to pace back and forth.
Next thing Molly knew, Amelia was hitting herself in the forehead with her palm and calling herself profanities which would cause points to be taken from Gryffindor if reported.
The sight was gut wrenching. Amelia was only a child, and she was expecting perfection and hiding from the reality of what was going on, on the inside. This moment reminded Molly of herself when she couldn’t please her mother.
Molly stood to her feet and rushed over to Amelia. She stopped her and pulled her hand away from her face.
“Amelia.” Molly attempted to lock eyes with her. She was trying to show her she was safe! “Stop!”
“No!” Amelia fought Molly’s grip and went to hit her forehead again. “You’re not my mum, Prewett! You don’t get to tell me what to do!”
Amelia fought Molly’s hold on her arm. “You’re a student just like me!” She finally broke her limb free and began hitting herself in the forehead again.
Molly’s heart broke even more as she watched. It was at this point, she figured she should’ve already gone to fetch McGonagall, but she wanted Amelia to think about her future and her exams and not get herself into trouble before having a chance to explain what was really going on.
“Amelia!” Molly grabbed the girl's hands once more. She prayed to Merlin to forgive her for possibly holding on too tight, but she wanted Amelia to stop harming herself!
What else was she to do?!
“I’m your friend. I’m going to help you, if you’ll just allow me to!”
“No you’re not!" Amelia shouted. "You hate me. I know you do.” The obvious raging tears returned to her eyes. “YOU’RE NO BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE!”
Amelia’s fists came up and pounded against Molly’s chest.
Molly took it.
She took every punch Amelia threw her way.
It felt like hours she stood there and allowed herself to be the little girl’s punching bag.
She wasn’t worried about injuries. She would heal herself of any bumps and bruises later.
If it weren’t for everyone in their respective exam rooms taking their finals, someone would have heard the shouting.
The punching began to die down after awhile - it happened when the obvious exhaustion began to take over Amelia’s body, and it was clear to Molly she was reaching the point where there was no more fight in her.
Amelia pulled back from Molly. The look in her eyes went from exhausted to horror in a matter of seconds.
She gasped. “I’m sorry.” Tears pooled in her eyes once more. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Molly watched. Amelia couldn't stand still. It was as if all of the shame and fear and emotion was rising up inside of the tiny eleven year old girl. Molly felt that Amelia would break, if someone didn't stop her from snapping in two.
Amelia cried. It was honestly horrible to watch her come to the realization of what her anger could prompt her to do.
She looked so afraid.
Molly shook her head in dismissal of the apologies and wrapped her arms around the girl (this time there was a grumble when she moved. Bloody hell that little twerp could throw a punch).
“It’s alright.” Molly shushed Amelia after hopefully reassuring her she didn’t blame her for what she did.
Amelia pulled away and wiped her eyes. “I just get so scared, and I don’t want anyone to know it. I’m not a coward! I'm not! . . . so I get angry because it usually makes people go away. . . makes them afraid of me."
Molly drew her wand from the pocket of her robes where she’d replaced it earlier after opening the lock of the bathroom stall. She flicked her wrist toward the sink and turned it on. There was another flick of her wrist and a paper towel was lifted from the pile and placed under the water to soak.
“. . . but not you.” Amelia tilted her head to the side. There was a curious expression spread across her features. “You’re still here.”
“‘Accio!’ Towel.” Molly whispered under her breath, followed by a flick of her wand. “Let’s try this one more time. Shall we?” The paper towel zoomed through the air and landed in her hand. “I’m quite the stubborn witch-” Molly returned her wand to the pocket of her robes and dabbed Amelia’s tear stained face once more. “-and though I try and follow the rules as best I can, I tend to be quite rebellious myself. . . so yes. I’m still here. I don’t like to be known as someone who does what others simply expect me to do. I like to make up my own mind.”
Amelia smiled. “I like that. I like thinking for myself.”
“As you should.” Molly dabbed the last of the tears from Amelia’s face and smiled. “There. Now. I won’t force you to tell McGonagall. If you’d rather keep your little secret to yourself, it’s safe with me.”
Molly slowly stood. Damn, she was in pain.
“However, we’re long since past Slughorn's offer for you to show up and receive full marks for your exam, and I urge you to consider talking to someone about what you're going through so you can be given a fair chance at passing and moving on into your second year.”
Amelia didn’t respond right away, and Molly took it as the perfect opportunity to draw her wand from her robes once more and heal herself of the wounds she’d obscured whilst taking a beating from the eleven year old. She was subtle about it - as to not make Amelia feel worse than she already did. Molly had been practicing her Healing Spells. She was set to go to school to become a professional Healer in the up and coming Fall. She was becoming quite good with her Healing abilities.
When Molly finished, the wand was replaced once again inside the pocket of her robes. She turned to Amelia who remained quiet, standing there.
Molly held out her hand. “What’s it going to be, Bones? Are you going to remain here and hide away, or are you going to give yourself the fair chance you deserve?”
Amelia looked from Molly to her hand and back again. She didn’t answer, but she did smile and finally took Molly’s hand.
Molly smiled. “You’re making the right decision.”
“I know.” Amelia squeezed Molly's hand, and the pair of them left the lavatories in order to go and inform McGonagall of what happened. “I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t believe it was.”
“Stubborn rebellious child.” Molly shook her head in amusement.
“I could say the same about you.” Amelia looked to her with a big grin.
Molly smirked, and the pair made their way down the many corridors leading to McGonagall’s office. Amelia was given a second chance to take all of her exams with accommodations.
The pair didn’t speak a whole ton after that moment shared in the girls bathroom, and it would be many years before they ever really spoke again. . .but it was because of this moment spent with Amelia Bones, Molly realized, she wanted very much to become a mother one day.
06/28/2020 06:08 PM
1st July 1996
In Honor of the Death of Amelia Bones -*** 1st July 1996 -
27th June 1996 -
News of Amelia Bones death spread like wildfire - not only throughout the Ministry, but through the homes of the entirety of the Wizarding World as well. Residents awoke to the tragic reality that their soon-to-be official Minister was gone through that Morning’s Prophet brought to them by Owl.
The world of Wizards and Witches was in a state mourning.
It had been an entire year of (for lack of a better word) hell for the Weasley’s and co. Between the Battle in the Department of Mysteries, and the death of Sirius - losing a key member of the Order, along with Harry losing another person he held dear in his life - to ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’ making himself known, to Fred and George leaving school, to Molly practically having a heart attack worrying about Ronald, Ginny, Harry and Hermione after finding out how stupid they’d been to escape to the Ministry and take on the Death Eaters on their own.
Yes. It had been an entire year of hell.
Her children had been through a whirlwind of madness and back, and per Molly’s request, Arthur had been the one to break the news to the children.
It was best it came from him - even if it had to be through Owl - as they had not come home yet. It was best he said something to their children. Arthur had been the one who worked in the Ministry and even knew Amelia well.
The children would return home in a few days - along with Hermione, who practically lived there now during her Summer Holiday - but the news would make itself known before they did so. Molly didn't want them to not hear some sort of word from their parents - the people they were meant to look up to during time of crisis and fear.
Molly did not want them to be frightened. She wanted them to be brave, and that was exactly what Arthur had told them.
This was war, but they would make it through - together and alive.
Today was the day.
The children were returning for the Summer Holiday.
Her children were coming home.
Molly was currently standing over the stove. The bacon was sizzling, the eggs were cooking. The smell of bread toasting in the oven filled the air, whilst the sound of plates lifting up from the shelves and setting themselves on the table and the mop swishing back and forth in the background rang in her ears.
It was a normal day in the Burrow, save for the fact there was heavy emotion in the air.
The world hadn’t been the same since Amelia’s death. Rufus Scrimgeour had been appointed Minister in her wake, and Molly made a promise to herself that she would reach out to her old friend as soon as she had the chance (which meant it would come after seeing her children and making sure they were settled in.) She had not been close with Amelia, no - she only knew her as a young pupil during school and through Arthur because they both worked at the Ministry - but Rufus? She had a little more of an acquaintanceship with him.
Molly was preparing herself for the sadness that would inevitably follow as soon as the children made their way through the door. Hermione was the one Molly found herself most worried about, and she knew that Hermione looked up to Bones as a mentor - as someone she hoped to be like one day. There wasn’t a week that went by during the Summer’s where Amelia’s name wasn’t mentioned by Hermione.
Molly knew this death wouldn’t sit well with the teen - another reason why Molly had made sure Arthur wrote to the children. She wanted to make sure both Ginny and Ron were there for Hermione.
The witch finished breakfast and plopped food on each of the plates.
Fred and George made their way down the stairs moments later. She knew it was the food which woke them from their beds and urged them downstairs.
“Morning, Mum!” said Fred, giving her a kiss on the cheek and grabbing an extra piece of toast from the oven, taking a bite from the bread before finding his seat and digging in.
“Oi! You know the rules, Fred Weasley! Wait until everyone arrives.”
“Oh Mum! We’ll be waiting for hours,” replied George instead of Fred, who had already shoved a bite of food in his mouth and was chewing as he spoke.
Molly rolled her eyes their way and let out a grumble. She didn’t even have it in her to fight them on the matter.
She was saving her energy for Hermione.
With a flick of her wand, the mop ceased its cleaning and returned itself to the cupboard where it was meant to be, whilst Molly went to grab the bucket and toss the dirty bucket water outside into the yard.
It was the sound of Arthur’s motor car rolling up the drive that alerted Molly to the presence of the children. She dropped the bucket and stepped forward, ready to greet all of them with the biggest hugs and kisses, and, honestly, all of the Mamabear love she had inside of her to give.
It was Arthur and Ronald who exited the vehicle first, and next Ginny, but she turned around and stuck her head down inside of the vehicle. She was obviously having a conversation with the final pupil (Molly knew to be Hermione) inside.
Arthur approached and Molly smiled his way. Though the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
She reached out and gave his arm a squeeze.
“Breakfast is on the table.” Molly gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before greeting Ronald.
Her arms came up and wrapped tightly around her son, giving him a tight squeeze. “Oh I could kill you for being so daft!” She was referring to their rendezvous in the Ministry. "I could absolutely kill you!"
Molly pulled away. Her eyes were filled with hot tears.
She gently smacked his shoulder.
“Oi, Mum!” Ronald replied, rubbing the area of his arm Molly whacked. “I did it for Harry!”
“You could’ve died! You, Harry, Ginny and Hermione! The lot of you-” Molly stopped herself as a sound mixed with a squeal and a squeak left her lungs. Her arms wrapped back around him. “I’m so proud of you, but I’m so angry at you! I could’ve lost you.”
Molly pulled away once more and grabbed Ronald’s cheeks in her hands.
“Mum! ” He grumbled and attempted to break free.
“Oh! You stubborn child. Go inside and have some breakfast.” Molly scooted Ronald away just before her eyes landed on Ginny.
Her girl looked older, worn, tired and it broke the witch as she watched Ginny step up to her.
Her arms wrapped around her daughter.
“Ginny. . .” her voice was a whisper. “I could kill you too.”
“Mum, you know we would do anything for Harry. You know we had to.
” Ginny pulled away.
Molly nodded. “I know. I’m glad you were there for him. I just don’t know what I would do without you.”
“This is war, Mum, and you of all people did not raise a houseful of cowards.”
Molly shook her head. She knew that, but it didn’t make any of this easier.
“I never wanted this life for you.”
“We don’t get to choose what happens. We choose how we respond.”
Molly couldn’t believe what she was hearing coming out of the mouth of her little girl.
“Since when did you grow up?”
“I didn’t have a choice.” Ginny wrapped her arms around Molly, and Molly returned the hug.
It ached the woman’s heart that in this moment her daughter seemed more of the parent than she did.
What was coming of this world?
When Ginny pulled back, she looked to the car and back to Molly.
“I couldn’t get her to come out. She’s not okay.”
Molly nodded as she eyed the vehicle.
She saw Hermione sitting there staring straight ahead.
Her heart hurt so much for her other little girl.
“Go inside, my darling. I’ll go and talk with Hermione.”
Ginny nodded and made her way indoors. Molly walked over to the car.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked.
Hermione didn’t look her way. “If you’d like.”
The witch slid into the car and leaned back against the seat to get as comfortable as she possibly could.
Hermione remained quiet. It was Molly who decided to break the silence.
“You know when I lost my brothers, I - well. . .I didn’t leave my room for a week. Arthur didn’t even want us to have a funeral because there was a war on. He didn’t believe it was responsible at the time.” Molly paused and thought back to one of the times she and Arthur fought. “I wouldn’t have it. My brothers - Gideon and Fabian. . . the deserved better. They weren’t meant to die. They were such strong warriors - such strong men. You’d look at them and simply. . . you’d never believe anyone or thing could end their lives.”
The witch paused once more because her chest was tight now.
She could see their faces.
Oh Merlin she loved and continued to miss her brothers.
She always would.
She always would.
She wouldn’t cry in front of Hermione - not right now - but oh she wanted to. There was so much emotion, so much reminder of the loss of her brothers during this time.
There wasn’t anyone who hated the Dark Lord more than Molly and everyone else who lost someone so dear to them during the First Wizarding War.
“It’s hard to believe there is any hope in war when you lose someone you admire and/or love.”
Molly turned toward Hermione, who now looked her way. She took notice of the tears in the girl’s eyes.
“Oh Molly. . .” Hermione finally spoke. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around the woman.
Molly, of course, returned the embrace. Her arms came up to wrap tightly around Hermione.
She placed several kisses atop the girl’s head.
“How could someone so brilliant and so great be taken down? I never thought someone as fierce as Amelia Bones could die.”
Hermione let out another cry and pulled back from Molly. She grunted and wiped her eyes.
“It’s stupid. I’m being ridiculous! Of course she can die. Of course she can - at the end of the day, her blood bleeds red. I feel so stupid for being upset.”
“Oh, my darling. . .” Molly’s eyes were sad.
Her heart ached for the girl.
She wanted to take the pain away, but Molly knew it wasn’t that simple.
Her hand came up to run along Hermione’s back.
She placed one more kiss against her hair.
“. . . You’re allowed to grieve the loss of someone you admired. It’s a sad time, and as we’ve stated: it’s hard to believe someone so fierce can be taken by the hands of evil.”
“I just feel stupid for being so sad. It’s not like your brothers. I didn’t know her intimately. I wanted to one day - -” Hermione stopped herself and let out a laugh. “- - It sounds so ridiculous. . . I wanted to be just like her. I have dreams, Molly, and she was someone who gave me hope that women achieving their goals is truly possible. Amelia saw me . . .she saw me. I- I felt important when she was around.”
Molly shook her head. “First of all, you’re not silly for grieving her death, and I urge you to allow yourself to not only feel your pain but be gentle through it.”
The witch paused and turned Hermione’s face to look directly at her own.
“. . .and secondly, I want you to hear my words: I may not be the same as you, in the sense . . .I didn’t have the same sort of passions you do, but I understand the need to be ‘seen’ - the need to be valued for what I do - and the only person who can truly show you your value . . . and the only time you will truly believe you matter is if you believe it for yourself. Let yourself feel this grief, my darling. Allow yourself to feel. . . but take what you’ve learned from Amelia and apply it to how you live.”
Hermione was sobbing now. The tears were pooling in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks.
She wrapped her arms around Molly once more and held on tight.
Molly returned the embrace and stayed with the young woman for as long as she needed her to be.
“Thank you, Molly.”
Molly drew back and smiled when Hermione let go.
“I will always be here for my children.”
Molly returned the gesture. “Shall we go inside now?”
The pair made their way inside to join the others, and the Weasley’s enjoyed - as best they could - breakfast together.
05/31/2020 09:08 PM
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.
05/27/2020 07:14 PM
Paper & Cup.
The birds were chirping outside, and the sun was shining through the kitchen of the Burrow on that particular day Pigwidgeon flew through the window with that morning’s Prophet.
Molly stood over the sink, and as if on command - as if she knew Pigwidgeon was going to fly through the window at that very moment - the witch leaned to the side to allow him entrance.
She was currently washing the remainder of the breakfast dishes when he returned home with the paper she’d sent for him to fetch.
“Right on time.”
Molly stepped away from the dishes, drawing her wand and waving it toward what remained unclean, and at that very moment, the rag began to - with the aid of her very handy dandy magic - wash the dishes all by itself.
She relied so much on her magic when it came to keeping her house clean.
There was always so much to do and such little time in one day to do it - she didn't know how muggles managed to keep their homes clean without the help of magic. If one thing was for certain, Molly Weasley knew with how big her family was, she couldn't do it without the help of her trusty wand and the power she wielded through it.
Molly replaced her wand in the pocket of her robes and washed her hands with the cloth hanging on the cupboard doors beneath the sink.
She reached in her pocket and pulled out what she owed Pigwidgeon whilst also giving him a bit of leftover cookie she’d baked the night before when Harry and Ginny first arrived for one of their regular visits.
Pigwidgeon of course took the cookie, hooting in approval when he finished the treat Molly knew he loved.
She held out her hand toward him and he nodded in approval, and she took it as her cue to pet his feathers. She smiled, and he hooted and ruffled himself up as if he was enjoying her touch very much.
“Such a pretty bird.”
Molly drew her hand back and reached for the Prophet. Not even moments after the paper was in her hand, Ginny came running into the kitchen.
She took the paper before Molly could even take one glance at its headline.
”Hi, Mum! Thanks for breakfast again! It was delicious. You know how much Harry and I love your cooking. I miss it dearly. Is this the morning Prophet?” Ginny paused and took a glance at the paper in her hand.
Molly eyed her daughter suspiciously as Ginny was talking a mile a minute - something Molly knew Ginny always did when she was attempting to hide something by means of distraction.
“Wicked! I was just hoping it would arrive. I’ve got something I’ve been dying to show Harry. Mind if I borrow it for a little while?”
Ginny didn’t even allow Molly to answer, which infuriated the woman, and of course Molly did not allow her daughter to leave the kitchen.
“Not so fast, Ginevra. I may be getting older, but I am your mother and I always know when you’re hiding something from me. I don’t appreciate it.”
“Don’t be silly, Mum! I just wanted to show Harry something. . .” Ginny’s voice trailed off, and Molly knew her daughter knew she was up to no good and there was no use trying to play it off as nothing.
Molly watched as Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. She pursed her lips together as if she was contemplating what she wanted to say.
Molly grew nervous.
What in Merlin's name was so horrible in that morning’s paper that would give Ginny a need to hide it from her?
“Fine!” Ginny stepped forward and handed Molly the paper. “-but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Molly’s brows furrowed and she remained looking toward her daughter for several more moments - there was sadness and fear there.
What could be so- - ?
“Oh . . .” Molly’s eyes stared at the paper - they particularly stared upon her soon to be (or so she thought) daughter-in-law, Hermione Granger, walking along the streets with none other than Viktor Krum.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.” Ginny finally answered.
Molly’s head shot upward. She glared daggers toward her daughter. She didn’t know a time she’d ever been so angry toward Ginny before this moment. Her eyes actually began to fill with hot tears, but she didn't allow them to fall.
"You knew about this? You knew about Hermione and Viktor? Does Ron know?"
"Of course I did, Mum! She's my best friend, but I-"
Molly didn't want to hear excuses.
She wanted to know the truth.
Her dearest Ron was always so hard on himself, and she was quite sure all this would do was further dampen his already low self-esteem.
Her arms crossed and she drew a bit defensive.
"Does Ronald know?"
"Why are you getting angry with me, Mum? I didn't do anything! I'm sort of in an awkward situation - if you haven't noticed!"
Molly was becoming impatient. She didn't appreciate not being answered, and with Ginny avoiding her question like one would the plague, she was quite sure she already had the answer.
"I'm not going to ask again."
Ginny stared at Molly, who could tell she was furious with her now.
"Not yet, but I'm sure he will soon."
"Ginny. How could you? How could you allow something like this to happen to your brother? Did you know?"
Ginny stood tall and defiant, much like Molly often did when she was firing herself up for an argument.
"How is this my fault?! How, Mum?! Here I am - stuck in the middle. My best friend and my brother are together and all I've been trying to do this entire time is allow them to be themselves. Hermione was just - "
Molly held up her hand toward her daughter. "I don't want to hear it! Ronald is your brother. You owe it to him to be on his side." Molly was walking around the kitchen now searching for something to do with her nervous energy because if she didn't soon, she felt as if she would explode.
"What? Are you saying Hermione isn't family, Mum? Because even you know she was family long before the pair of them even dared to think about having feelings toward one another. I'm not abandoning either of them. It's their choice what they choose to do, and shame on you!" Ginny paused and pointed toward Molly. "Shame on you for putting the blame on me, when it's them you should be speaking to and seeking the full story from! That bloody paper you hold in your hands doesn't share the truth - it doesn't hold the reason why this happened! Shame on you, Mum."
There were tears in Ginny's eyes now too, and Molly's heart sank at the sight of her daughter standing there before her angry and hurt because of what had been said in the heat of the moment. Though Molly was just as stubborn as Ginny, and instead of apologizing and attempting to work things out, she simply went about finishing up the dishes without another word spoken on the matter.
She saw out of the corner of her eye, Ginny slipping her wand from the pocket of the robes she wore and waving it toward the fridge. The door opened and out flung the fresh bowl of raspberries the pair of the picked together the previous day just after she and Harry arrived.
It was moments later where all that could be heard before silence fell upon the Burrow were the footsteps of Ginny stomping up the stairs and Molly setting the last of the clean dishes in the drainer to dry.
05/25/2020 08:07 PM
A Character Study.
1. Describe your characters first love. I would say Arthur truly is and always has been Molly’s love. They were never the pair who hated one another. They never played the back and forth game. There was never any doubt in either of their minds. Arthur was the one she loved.
They started off as friends in their first year at Hogwarts, and their friendship only developed and grew into more over the years.
Their friendship began on the train to Hogwarts when the shoes Molly wore kept causing her to stumble over herself because they were too big – hence the ‘Mollywobbles’ nickname Arthur often calls her. (Her mother had insisted she buy a size too big because she was at the age where her feet were growing nonstop.) Arthur, being one of many older siblings, was able to ‘show off’ a bit of magic he’d learned for Molly and shrink her shoes to the right size, and not long after when her feet did indeed grow out of that pair of shoes, Molly had learned the Engorgement Charm and was able to return them to their original size.
For those into the angsty, hopeless romantic love story. . . Molly and Arthur would not be the pair for you. The couple had a friendship which turned into love. Their love was simple yet beautiful. I believe their bond will last beyond the grave.
2. What frightens your character? The death of anyone in her family. Molly has always feared losing those she loves, and her fears became reality when her brothers (Gideon and Fabian) gave their lives toward the end of the FWW.
Many wonder why Molly can be so hard on her children (and even easily fired up toward Arthur) and if you take note of her anger, you’ll understand why. She’s scared when they do something that makes her internal fears of losing them come alive.
Now. . .she is a red-head, and her stubborn, hot-headed nature can arise at any moment, but one of the main reasons why this kind and loving woman can turn in an instant is when one of the members of her family are hurt or in danger.
3. How does your character communicate? Molly is very straight forward - she’s not one to kiss arse, so be prepared for her to be brutally honest with how she feels when she’s angry. (There were several canon moments when this happened: my personal favorite DH and her moment with Bellatrix or CoS and her moment with the boys when they stole the car.)
HOWEVER, that being said, Molly does have a passive aggressive side to her, and it normally comes out with those who are dating her children - save for Harry because he is one of her children - but with Fleur (very much with her) and even Hermione.
Molly is often known to be incredibly passive aggressive when she doesn’t like the ones her children choose to date, or when their spouses have done something to upset her (i.e. Molly did not take well to Fleur at first, but in order to please her son and not to push Bill away, she pretended - was ‘pleasant’ - with his fiancé. Even Hermione managed to hurt Molly when Rita Skeeters article came out about Hermione ‘distracting’ Harry during the Tri-Wizard Tournaments, and due to her devotion to both Ron and Ginny - because a mother always knows when her child has a crush - and her belief that it was Hermione’s fault Harry wasn’t fully (mentally) in the game, she was unpleasant with her.)
At the end of it all, I believe Molly truly is a communicator for the most part, but she has her negative qualities. . . however, she is a very kind, loving and encouraging woman who mothers everyone.
4. What was your characters childhood like? Growing up in the Prewett household was interesting to say the least. Mainly because Molly’s father was very much like Arthur – incredibly interested in Muggles, very easy going and laid back, and had a fascination and curiosity for any and everything really. Her father (Charles Prewett) could have a conversation with a wall, and it wouldn’t even be required to talk back to him. Molly loved him.
She found her father to be the one who made life fun and exciting whilst her mother was a different story entirely.
Her mother (Persephone Prewett) was a harsh and cold woman. It wasn’t easy to speak to her about anything, and she was always very critical of Molly because she had expectations for her daughter that Molly never seemed to meet. Persephone adored her eldest two children, and often claimed in front of both Molly and her younger brother (Bilius) that if it were up to her she would’ve only had two children and never conceived the pair of them.
‘The more children you have, the more responsibility you bear to ensure they make something of themselves and don’t make you look like a fool!” her mother would always say. “My dear Gideon and Fabian are both my pride and joy, but you two- ” Her mother would look toward Molly and a very young Bilius (who Molly was basically forced to raise during her Winter and Summer holidays along with her father due to her mother’s disinterest and Molly being ten years older than him and apparently old enough time raise a child ) with narrowed eyes when she spoke. “-are mistakes I wish I never made.”
Molly avoided her mother at all cost (which meant she avoided home as much as possible), and she did her best to keep Bilius out of Persephone’s way as well. Going to Hogwarts was the best thing that ever happened to Molly because she was away from her mother and her constant scrutiny toward her life choices.
During the holidays she dreamed of staying at school, but in order to protect her brother from their mother, she would return home – seeing as she didn’t get to see him during the school year and make sure he was okay.
Needless to say, being home was something Molly very much loathed.
5. What is your character’s favorite way to treat themselves? (Decided not to go with the sweets aspect and more so 'what activity') I would say a treat for Molly would be her morning cuppa before she begins her day. She’s not one to treat herself often with fancy things neither is she one to really sit for long periods of time because she’s constantly on the move. . . so I think for Molly her way of having something nice for herself is getting up early in the morning, sitting before the fire in the living room of the Burrow and enjoying her tea.
I also believe her other pleasure for herself is sitting down and knitting Christmas jumpers for her family. It’s something she enjoys doing. . . and it acts as a reward for herself when the chores are done.
6. How does your character handle stress? She cleans. . . and she cleans. . .and she cleans and she cooks and she cooks and she cooks some more. Molly is a very nervous doer. Notice how even canon in the books anytime there was something going on, Molly would always heighten her cleaning and cooking/baking when something was going down within the family or with Harry. She doesn’t do well sitting in silence and waiting. She’s always got to be moving, and that need to move only increases when stress is involved.
I definitely think this is a quirk of hers that could very much annoy her children, and I believe Arthur is so calm and collected that he’s learned her ways over the years and knows to leave her be when she’s manic but also knows how to calm her down when need be. (I am also not stating Molly is bi-polar. She is not. She’s just a very, very anxious woman)
7. Describe something about your character they are reluctant for others to know? Molly believes in a lot of ways she’s failed as an adult. There is a part of her that – though she loves her life – feels she should’ve done more for herself, so her children didn’t have to suffer living like they did. They never had enough money to afford each of them everything brand new, and though she’s very adamant about love being above ‘things’, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel guilty about not being able to afford new – or at least nice– things for her children.
Also. . .Molly is very self-conscious about herself. Though Arthur loves her dearly and has never made her feel anything more than loved, her self esteem is not the greatest, and she’s held onto a lot of hurtful words her mother said to her over the years that has been carried on with her into adulthood.
She hides behind her role and title as wife and mother and makes that her mission in life as to not dwell on how often she manages to feel down about herself. . . but there are times when the house is quiet and she takes even a breath for a break that the thoughts creep in. I would say that’s another reason why she cleans. . . it calms her mind and helps her to remain somewhat at ease.
8. Describe something your character is passionate about? There are not many ‘things’ Molly Weasley is passionate about, but one thing is for certain. . . Family, above all else, is the most important.
The passion and drive Molly holds for her family is beyond most can even begin to comprehend.
She’s spent a lot of her life sacrificing her own needs in order to take care of them – though, she wouldn’t have it any other way because family to her is the only thing in this life worth fighting and giving ones life for.
9. What does your character find comfort in? Family. I think for Molly being home with her family – when they are all there (or at least all of them who can be) . . . there is a sense of comfort in that for her.
Also. . .Arthur. Being with Arthur (in his arms / presence) is another place she finds comforting and safe.
Her husband and children are everything.
05/19/2020 07:49 PM
August 1977 - Date Night.
Molly stepped out of the room Bill and Charlie and Percy. . . and Nymphadora (who was currently sleeping on a make-shift cot Molly made for her to sleep in whilst she stayed over) all shared with one another at the Burrow and smiled as she turned.
Her wand was drawn from the pocket of her robes and flicked toward the light, and with an inaudible chant of ‘Nox’, the light flickered off upon command.
Though the light in the bedroom ceased, the one from the hall continued to shine through, allowing Molly to keep an eye on the children.
They were all fast asleep.
A pair of familiar arms came round her sides to rest at her middle, and Molly leaned back against Arthur who was now standing behind where she stood in the doorway of the children's bedroom.
“I don’t want to leave them,” she confessed.
“I know, my darling.” Arthur kissed her neck. Molly closed her eyes. “. . .but they are going to be alright. Andromeda and Ted will keep them safe.”
Molly sighed. “I know. I just-“ She paused and turned toward her husband, who had pulled her away from the doorway at this point and closed the door to the bedroom.
Molly leaned against the wall and looked to Arthur.
“There’s a war on. It’s not right to be leaving them all alone. What if- ?!”
Her words were cut off by his lips. He stole her words with several soft kisses. She closed her eyes and couldn’t help but smile and return the gesture, but she did finally pull away and hit him playfully in the arm.
“Arthur. I’m serious!”
“I am too. You can’t live in fear, Molly. Didn’t we decide that this was how we were going to raise our family – not to be afraid, nor to stop living our lives even with a war on.”
Molly was quiet a moment.
She knew he was right, but it didn’t mean she wished to admit it!
She was trying to make a point about how much she hated to leave her children!
. . . but she and Arthur had promised each other that every year on their anniversary they would go out and celebrate together – even during war time, and Molly wouldn’t break that promise to Arthur. . . no matter how much she didn’t want to leave the children.
“As much as it pains me to say in this very moment. . . you're right. You're right."
"Wipe that smug look off your face," Molly said as she lifted herself off the wall she'd been leaning on and made her way down the hall and stairs.
"What look?" Arthur followed behind.
"You know exactly what look, Weasley."
Andromeda and Ted greeted the pair of them at the bottom of the stairs.
Andromeda had a big grin spread across her lips.
“You two have fun." Her brows wiggled. "May tonight bring you another addition in nine months."
"What? Can't a sudo-Aunt hope for more nephews or perhaps a niece to love?"
Molly heard Arthur and Ted laugh. She shot daggers their way, and the pair raised their hands in surrender. Andromeda's smile only grew wider as Molly returned her attention to her cousin.
"Andy. You stop that right now."
Andromeda didn't answer. She merely leaned in and left a kiss against Molly's cheek.
“Take care of my children.” Molly changed the subject and gave Andromeda a stern stare as she pulled back.
Andromeda chuckled. “Oh Molly, you know we will.”
Molly nodded and looked to Ted. “Night, dear."
"Night, Molly. The children are in good hands."
Andromeda and Ted linked arms and made their way upstairs.
Molly smiled toward Arthur, drew her wand from the pocket of her robes once more, and headed to the fireplace to ready it for travel.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Arthur.
“We’re traveling by Floo, aren’t we?”
Arthur grinned. He didn’t even have to say a word before Molly knew that he had other plans of travel for them that evening – more particularly. . . they were taking one of the many cars Arthur had managed to smuggle home over the years (even before he worked for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department at the Ministry, Arthur was always bringing home Muggle nick-knacks. . . and automobiles!)
“No. No. No. No-no-no-no. Aboslutely not! I’ve told you: I will never!”
“Oh Come on, Mollywobbles.”
Molly glared when he used his nickname for her. “Don’t you Mollywobbles me, Arthur Weasley!” She pointed her wand in his direction as one would a finger. "I'm not riding in that car."
Arthur stepped forward. "I promise not to make it fly."
"Why not just take our brooms? If you're so keen on traveling by vehicle."
Molly could tell even Arthur who was usually quite understanding and patient was trying not to become frustrated. He'd made his way over to where she stood now.
"Would you please trust me? I have very special plans for this evening, and I'd appreciate it if my wife would allow me to drive her along the countryside."
Molly was quiet for several moments, but the anger and fear and rebellion against riding in something not controlled by magic had begun to dissipate. Her annoyance was replaced with a softness toward her husband whom she now realized had planned this entire evening for them.
"Okay. . . but I swear if one wheel is lifted off the ground to fly. . . or one sound from the engine roars as if the bloody thing is about to crash or explode, I'm Disapparating the hell out of there faster than you can say 'Chocolate Frogs', do you understand?"
Arthur grinned as if he came back to life the instant Molly gave him permission.
"Loud and clear, my love!" He leaned forward and left a kiss against her cheek.
He took Molly's hand, and on their way out with her wand still in her hand she flicked her wrist and turned off the remainder of the lights downstairs.
The pair of them made their way to the car and off they went to celebrate their anniversary of another year together . . . and about nine months later, Molly gave birth to the twins.
05/18/2020 07:14 PM
2nd May, 1998.
There was something to be said about the end of a long, long war. The weight of the burden and the pain one carried with them seemed to fade away in an instant when the war’s end was called. Though with the end of the burden of battle, a new weight arrived.
Molly Weasley said goodbye to the heaviness of war and hello to the heartache of losing a child – one she so very much adored. Her darling Fred was her light and her life and his laughter and smile and lightheartedness would forever and always be missed.
There was a silence that fell over Hogwarts directly after the cheers and the hugs and kisses and embraces shared with Harry. Of course, she too, made sure to greet him once the crowd allowed and share with him one great, big motherly hug.
“Harry. You brave boy. You saved us all.”
Molly pulled away from the great squeeze she left with him. Her hands came up to grab his cheeks.
Harry smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you, Molly.” Molly shared with him a half smile and a half pout. “Your parents would be so very proud.”
She did her best not to cry as she stared at the boy whom she’d taken on as another one of her own over the years. “I know I am.”
“Only wish Fred could be here.” Harry hugged her once more. “I’m sorry he died.”
Molly pulled away and placed her hand over her heart. She tapped it – one, two, three times. “He is here, dear. I know he’s so proud.”
“Harry! Well Done, Harry!”
“Cheers to you, Potter!”
“Way to go, mate!” the sounds of others around where she and Harry stood alerted Molly back to the present.
“I’ll see you in a little while, dear.” Molly smiled toward Harry and backed out of the crowd. She went to go find Ginny and Arthur, Charlie and Percy and Ronald. . . and George. She knew exactly where he could be found.
Molly made her way into the Great Hall where the bodies of those who lost their lives were being wrapped and taken away. She saw George kneeled beside the lifeless body of Fred.
Molly’s eyes were heavy. Her heart hurt as she watched her boy cry over his twin. One of the many staff members came over to cover Fred and Molly instantly found herself rushing forward to try and stop them.
‘She wasn’t ready for him to leave just yet.’ . . .but before she could make it over to the body of her son, George stood.
“GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF OF HIM!”
“I’m sorry, I-“
“THAT’S MY BROTHER! YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE! YOU GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM!”
Molly rushed over now. “George. ‘George.’” She wrapped her arms around her son. George immediately gave into her hold – a rarity. . . something that barely happened throughout his and Fred’s entire lifetime. They were never the touchy feely, lovey-dovey type.
Her eyes locked with the Hogwarts Staff Member. She was having to be the strong one, and that was quite alright with her. She was their mother after all.
“Give us a moment, would you?” she asked the man in a soft, tired voice.
He nodded. “My apologies, Mrs. Weasley. Take all tha time ya need.” The man walked away and left Molly standing with George before the body of Fred. George clung tight to her, and Molly reciprocated his hold.
“He’s gone, Mum! My best friend. My brother. . . there will never be another-” George’s words were cut off by his sobs.
Molly closed her eyes. She allowed her own tears to fall now.
What else was there to say?
What else could she say to her son?
She was meant to be the strong one, but as she went to speak all she could do was agree.
She knew Fred was dead. She knew he was gone, and there was no coming back. He gave his life to free so many people from the pain that would’ve come if ‘You Know - - NO. If Voldemort had won.
Molly would not be afraid to think on his name a day longer. That man was gone. He was dead. . . and he took her son with him.
She would not be afraid any longer to speak his name - to think his name. He was just a man. A pathetic and cruel man.
He would not hold any weight or power over her anymore because that would be insulting to Fred and his sacrifice for her freedom to live.
She continued to release her own cries whilst George did the same. He needed to be able to grieve, and he needed to know that he was not alone in his grief.
Molly's eyes opened now, and she looked down upon the lifeless body of Fred.
She’d had a moment with him earlier when they’d first found out the news of his passing, but she had been in so much shock and misery, she’d not been able to find the words to say what she’d wanted.
Molly released George long enough to step forward and bend down. She placed a kiss against Fred’s forehead.
He was cold. He was dead.
“Rest peacefully, my darling boy. I was so lucky to be your mum. I’m sorry. . . I’m-” There were more tears forming and she couldn’t speak another word as her moist filled eyes stared toward her dead son.
George was kneeling by her now.
“I’m going to miss you, brother. We had so much life left to live together.”
Molly wrapped her arms around George once more. Though her attention was brought from the moment with the twins when she heard her name being called ahead.
“MUM!” Ginny cried as she ran toward where Molly and George knelt before Fred.
Arthur, Charlie, Percy, and Ronald and Hermione were not far behind.
Molly stood to her feet and wiped her eyes.
“Ginny!” Molly left one last kiss against Fred's forehead and rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her daughter.
She hadn’t spoken a word to Ginny since before the battle with Bellatrix where Molly took the life of the bitch who dared to take her daughter away. Molly was a kind woman - a fair and caring individual . . .until you messed with one of her children. She'd already lost one child that day. She would not lose another.
Molly drew back from the embrace shared with Ginny. She looked her girl over, making sure she was okay. "Praise Merlin, you're safe."
She left a kiss on Ginny's forehead, and went on to greet the remainder of her children, including Hermione.
Molly turned toward George. She went to step forward, but Ginny cut in.
"Let me, Mum."
Ginny made her way over to where George knelt before Fred.
Arthur came to stand by Molly, who slid her hand up to rest against his chest. Her head rest against his shoulder. The pair of them shared a glance to each other. There was sadness in Arthur's eyes and Molly knew her own reciprocated the same sadness.
Not a word was shared between Molly and Arthur, but their eyes said everything their mouths did not. They were tired. They were worn. They were sad, but they were together and alive and they would get through this next chapter where they would be forced to grieve the loss of Fred.
When Molly's eyes returned to George and Ginny, she watched now as her daughter said her goodbyes to Fred just before placing the blanket over his head.
Molly watched as George and Ginny said their goodbyes to Fred before standing and making their way over to where she and others stood. Her hand resting on Arthur's chest gripped his robes as she watched her children walking away from Fred. She fought her tears as her eyes caught sight of her boy now covered - his face no longer shown.
Her attention diverted to George, who stepped away from Ginny with a wait 'wait a moment' just before he made his way to the other row of bodies lain across the floor of the Great Hall.
He stopped before a girl who was crying over the body of a boy. Molly watched as George held out his hand out to the girl and just barely heard him say, 'let bygones be bygones, aye?'
Molly furrowed her brows, but a few moments later George and Ginny were returning with the girl.
"Mum. Dad? Nerissa."
"Nerissa? Mum. Dad."
George didn't say another word. He brushed passed all of them and made his way toward one of the four tables being set for a great feast.
Molly and her family and Nerissa left Fred and the other bodies lain in the Great Hall and made their way to the four tables now put together and filled with the remaining students and their parents and everyone involved in fighting against Voldemort. She had Ginny resting her head against her shoulder on one side and the girl named Nerissa.
Nerissa stared at the plate of food which sat on the table before her. Molly took notice to how grief stricken she appeared. It was obvious whoever that boy had been lying on the make-shift cot across from Fred had been someone Nerissa cared about.
Molly felt the need to become motherly toward her, seeing as their seemed to be no one else around to take care of Nerissa.
"Eat, darling. You've got to keep your strength up."
Molly pushed the plate toward Nerissa, who said nothing in reply.
"That boy lying across from your loved one? That was my son."
Nerissa looked to Molly. "Everyone knows that. Have you seen your hair?"
Molly couldn't help but chuckle. "Red hair? Must be a Weasley, aye."
It was obvious Nerissa was fighting a grin.
"My point is: your person - "
"- my brother."
Molly paused and wrapped her arm around Nerissa. She was a mother at heart, and she couldn't help herself but attempt to comfort. Nerissa fought Molly's hold, at first. . . but then gave in.
"Your brother would want you to take care of yourself. His sacrifice was not for nothing." Nerissa didn't say anything. In fact, she looked down and drew very quiet. Molly knew she'd reached the child.
"Don't allow his sacrifice to be one in vain. He's dead, and he's never coming back. . . so grieve his loss, but don't stop living your life. Take care of yourself."
Molly looked to the other side of the Great Hall where the bodies of those who sacrificed themselves lain. "I know my Fred would rather be here . . . eating a celebratory meal than lying lifeless, dead."
Nerissa looked away from Molly and toward her plate of food. She was quiet for several more moments before finally reaching out and taking a piece of roast beef and shoving it into her mouth.
Molly smiled slightly when she did. She then turned to Ginny and left a kiss against her forehead.
Her eyes found Arthur and Ronald and Hermione, Charlie and George and across the way they found Harry who smiled and she returned the expression.
Molly was tired.
She was worn.
. . .but she was alive, and for Fred. . . she would keep on.
05/17/2020 06:59 PM
Platform 9 ¾
Another year arrived and another 1st September rolled around. Molly sent her children off on the train and waved goodbye whilst she stood at Platform 9 ¾ (and yes there were tears in her eyes as she watched the train roll on by).
Next year Ginny would go, and Molly wasn’t quite ready to even begin to think about how her little girl would more than likely (as all of her other children had before) receive her letter the following Summer, alerting her that she too would be attending Hogwarts that up coming Fall.
Of course she wanted all of her children to go school and learn how to be great wizards (and witch) but it didn’t make it any easier with each year that came and went.
“Of we go,” she said to little Ginny, who still had tears in her eyes. “Oh darling.”
Molly bent down before her daughter and with the hanky she’d used to attempt to wipe away the dirt from Ronald’s nose, she wiped the tears from Ginny’s eyes.
“You’ve got them too, Mummy.” Ginny pointed just below her eye where Molly hadn’t noticed the tear which now began to dry.
Molly chuckled and wiped her own eyes with the hanky.
“I do. Don’t I?”
They both shared tears, but whilst Ginny was crying about not being able to go with her brothers (yet again), Molly was crying that they were leaving her once more.
She kissed Ginny’s nose.
Ginny giggled and squirmed away. “Mum!”
“What?” Molly answered playfully with wide eyes. Though, she grew quiet a moment. Her expression drew serious. “Please don’t grow up too fast.”
She didn’t really mean to say the words out loud, but there they were. . .
‘You’re my last. . .’
Ginny huffed. “. . . but I can’t wait to get to Hogwarts, Mummy! I want to play Quidditch and do magic!”
Molly smiled. Her eyes were sad, but she was happy Ginny wanted all of that. Of course she was. Molly knew Ginny didn't understand, and that was quite alright. It wasn't for a child to feel the pain a parent felt as they grew older - they were never meant to carry the burden of that.
She tapped the girl’s nose and stood, holding out her hand.
Ginny took the hand Molly offered, and the pair walked away.
“Mummy? Was that really Harry Potter?”
Molly was quiet a moment. Her mind became lost in the thoughts of meeting the boy she'd promised to protect. She thought back to her first encounter with Harry Potter. She had thought it was odd a child being at Kings Cross Station without a family member, and for a brief moment she dare say she thought it was Harry before she even knew. . . but she hadn’t wanted to single him out – not amongst her children.
The poor dear was already going through enough on his first day, and from what little she did know of Lily’s sister (and from the little Dumbledore was able to provide her on that night all of those years ago when she’d gone to offer to take in the child), she knew Harry wasn’t learning much – or anything all for that matter – of their world or what to expect. . . and/or do on his first day of school.
She was surprised he’d managed to make it to the station at all.
Her heart hurt because she’d made a promise to Lily all of those years ago to take care of Harry, and all she’d managed to do was follow Dumbledore’s strict orders, ‘I can’t let you take the boy, Molly. . . but I do ask when he comes to Hogwarts that you take him under your wing and love him like a mother would – like he deserves – so you can keep your promise to Lily.’
There would always be knots in her stomach over that night. The night she was told by Dumbledore that it was for Harry’s protection that he remain away from their world and out of sight.
Molly snapped out of her thoughts. “Hmm?”
“I asked if that was really Harry Potter?”
Molly nodded. “Yes. That was in fact Harry Potter.”
“Wicked! I hope Ron makes friends with him."
“Me too, dear. Me too.” The words to Molly's response sounded as if she was very far away, and maybe in some sense she was – because she found herself quite lost in her thoughts as she answered her daughter.
Molly promised herself to make sure to take care of Harry as best she could – even if he and Ron didn’t hit it off as friends. She wouldn’t allow Harry go another year longer without a mother watching over him.
When she and Ginny returned home, Molly began knitting another jumper, and when it came time for the stitching, she monogrammed this particular one with an 'H'. . . making Harry officially a Weasley.
05/12/2020 08:24 PM
number twelve grimmauld place,
It wasn’t in Molly Weasley's nature to disagree with Dumbledore, for she was apart of what was known as the "old crowd” – a loyal and devout group to the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore.
In the minds of these loyal followers, there was no greater power or source of information or protection than the great leader of the school they all once attended.
Dumbledore was their leader.
He was who they sought truth from. . . but Molly couldn’t deny her anger when Albus informed her of the news of Harry returning to the Dursleys for another summer of torture.
Molly couldn’t believe someone as great and pure as Albus Dumbledore – someone whom she put her faith and trust in – would allow a boy to spend more time in that rotten household.
She understood why Harry had been made to grow up with that awful, abusive man and woman (Albus had explained to her as much the night of the Potters death, and it was for Harry's protection - as much as it pained Molly to admit - that he stay with his Aunt and Uncle until further notice). Molly understood that, but after everything the boy had been put through the year prior at school during the Triwizard Tournament - after he'd been forced to witness Cedric Diggory's death and the rise of . . . 'You-Know-Who' - after all of that? Dumbledore continued to insist the boy return to Privet drive?
It was an outrage, and Molly made her disapproval apparent just before Harry's Summer holiday was meant to begin.
"I do not approve, Albus! Not one bit." It wasn't in character for Molly to speak to the Headmaster in such a way, but when it came to the safety of her children, all bets and normal means of behavior were off the table.
Albus didn't seem shocked one bit when Molly gave her opinion on the matter. In fact, there was a smirk spread across his lips when she spoke her mind.
"Molly, I would expect no less of an answer from you. Whilst I sympathize with your desire to protect the boy from his Aunt and Uncle - as we are all aware of their rotten ways - I urge you to put aside your frustrations toward them and think of Harry."
"I am, Dumbledore! I understand the importance of Harry living with his relatives. I understand the importance of it all - you told me all of those years ago! It doesn't mean I'm thrilled with the idea of my - -" She stopped herself before she called Harry by the title she saw him as: her child. Her son. "- - the boy not eating or being properly taken care of and looked after whilst he's waiting for next school year to begin. That's no way for a child to live, Albus – especially one whose been through the type of hell he has!"
There were tears in Molly's eyes now, and she stopped herself from continuing on as to not cry in front of Dumbledore.
"It's for his safety, Molly. Voldemort - - " Molly shivered at the mention of 'You-Know-Who's' name. "- - has returned and Harry witnessed something no child should ever be privy to, but unfortunately, due to the cruelty of this world we live in, we aren't given the ability to pick and choose the cards we are dealt. It is fact that Voldemort - - " Molly shivered again, and she knew no matter how much she hated the mention of his name, Dumbledore wouldn't back down from stating it out loud. Fear of a name, he would always say, gives it power. Molly knew Dumbledore refused to give 'You-Know-Who' power, whilst she couldn't bring herself to think of his name, let alone say it. "- - has returned whether or not the Ministry chooses to believe. He will be looking for any opportunity to infiltrate in Harry's life, and as long as the boy remains with his Aunt and Uncle for the duration of the Summer Holiday, he will keep safe."
Molly stood before Dumbledore - the man she normally adored and respected.
She was completely deflated.
There was a part of the woman who deep down felt as if she'd failed Harry in some sense, but there was no use arguing now. He was safer where he'd always been since his parents died, and if four Privet Drive was what was going to keep Harry out of harms way, then four Privet Drive is where he would be - even though Molly would give anything to bring him home to the Burrow.
* * *
"I don't like it anymore than you do, my dear. . . but I believe it's the only way to keep our family safe." Arthur spoke as he stood in front of the lit fireplace in the living room.
He entertained a mug of tea in his hand - the one Molly had prepared for him when he returned home from the Ministry that evening.
"I know, my love. It's - I. . .I never wanted this for our children."
"Neither did I." Arthur paused and took a sip of his tea. " . . . but the fact of the matter is: the Ministry is falling apart, and we must watch out for ourselves and the children. If our government chooses to keep their heads so far up their arses that they refuse to see the truth which stares them right in the face, that's their choice. . . but when 'You-Know-Who' comes knocking (and mark my words: he's returned, and he will) we won't be the fools taken down. We will be the ones standing before him ready and fighting."
Molly had chills. The weight behind her husband's words filled the room - so much so, she felt as if she couldn't hardly breathe.
What she always loved about Arthur was: he was a quiet man - he was smart, he didn't make rash moves or decisions (unlike her who could become so quickly heated, but their differences balanced them out) and he knew when to speak and when to remain quiet, but even when he spoke, only a fool wouldn't listen because his words held such truth and power and confidence.
It was common for others to mistake his quiet ways as meekness, but that was not the case. Arthur Weasley - her husband - was bold and brave.
Molly knew she had no choice but to fight. She promised herself if there was ever another war, she would join up in honor and in place of her brothers.
She had to. She wouldn't break that promise to Gideon and Fabian. Not to mention, she wanted to keep her children safe, and if fighting and giving her own life meant they could live their own, then so be it.
Her eyes were to Arthur's back. She could sense the exhaustion without even looking him in the eyes. She could tell by the way he stood and the way he spoke. His work was taking all he had out of him, Molly knew.
The fire was dying out, and with quick grab of her wand and flick of her wrist, she pointed it toward the fireplace whilst inwardly chanting the Spell needed to ignite the flames a little more.
Molly replaced her wand and went to grab one of her home-knit blankets which sat on the back of the couch.
She brought it over to Arthur and wrapped it around him. Her arm came round his back and she guided him toward his chair by the fire.
"Sit, my darling. Rest. It's off to the safe house for us soon. We might as well enjoy our home for the little while longer we have it for now."
Arthur did as Molly instructed, and she caught his eye as he looked up to her. "We're going to be alright."
"I know we are." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
When she drew back, she smiled and he returned the gesture.
There was a soft pattering of footsteps coming from where the second floor met the stairs. Molly knew that sound all too well - one of their children had been listening in on their conversation. She had her suspicions as to who it was, but she wasn't worried for now.
* * *
She knew the twins and Ronald always slept late, but she also knew it wouldn't be long until they woke to growling tummies, so she had to be prepared. Yes, she truly enjoyed taking care of her family.
Ginny had been rather quiet that morning, and though that in itself was not an entirely shocking matter. . . Molly knew her daughter, and she could feel Ginny's inner wheels turning.
She was honestly waiting for Ginny to speak up about what was going on in her mind.
Molly didn't want to push her daughter, because she knew how Ginny worked. Pushing the girl would never allow one the results they were after. . . so in order to calm her own anxiety whilst she waited for Ginny to speak. . . Molly made an extra big meal (because food was plenty right now and she wanted to make sure her children were well fed and healthy. They were going to need it for what was ahead during the Summer and Fall and onward until Voldemort was taken down once and for all.)
It wasn't until Ginny finally spoke up about what was going on in that mind of hers (which also didn't shock Molly in the slightest. How could her daughter not be thinking on Cedric's death and Dumbledore and Harry and the Ministry and how they refused to believe the truth about You-Know-Who's return. It would be odd if she wasn't) that Molly turned off the stove and made a plate for her daughter.
She took the breakfast to Ginny. Though Molly did not sit down - she was never one to really stop. . . she always kept going and there were times her family would have to remind her to sit down and also take care of herself.
"I thought it was you the other night I heard tiptoeing around the stairs whilst your father and I were talking." Molly drew her wand from the pocket of her robes and tapped Ginny's glass. Moments later it was filled with freshly squeezed orange juice from the oranges they grew in their plant and tree garden. "It's true. We will be leaving the Burrow soon and rehousing someplace safer for the time being."
Molly had no use in lying to her daughter. She wouldn't be able to share all of the details with her until a later time when Arthur gave her the okay (because there were eyes and ears everywhere) but she wouldn't keep this from Ginny.
She placed her hand on Ginny's shoulder. Her head leaned to the side and she looked Ginny in the eyes.
"Some people are ignorant to reality because it makes them feel safer to live in the darkness rather than stepping out into the light and living in the truth. That's what the Ministry is doing right now - they are choosing to live in a lie because they don't want to accept that You-Know- Who is back."
05/11/2020 07:23 PM
31st October, 1981
31st October 1981 pt 1: The News.
The Weasley Residence - The Burrow, Ottery St Mary, Devon, England, United Kingdom
‘Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock’ went the clock in the living room of the Burrow.
‘Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. . .’ it was the only sound to be heard in the kitchen now filled with silence.
Molly Weasley stood with her hands out in the air before her from where a mug once rested in between them. The cup had fallen to the floor with a loud ‘crash!’ when Arthur told her the news.
It had been a birthday mug given to her a day prior (30th October) – sent by Bill from Hogwarts through Pigwidgeon. Molly obviously knew Arthur helped their eldest child in paying for the owl to be sent so very far away (as he was only eleven and it was his first year at Hogwarts and he wasn’t very well out working to pay for his own way at this point). . . and it meant the world to her – with her eldest son unable to be at home. . . to be thinking of her on her birthday.
It was that particular mug lying shattered at her feet as she processed the news.
The Potters were dead. “Lily and James have been killed by ‘You-Know-Who’.”
It couldn’t be. Not them. Not the fierce warriors. . . not the Potters, but even one could say the same about her brothers (Gideon and Fabian) who died a year and half prior.
This war had been cruel, and even to the most valiant of warriors, it showed no mercy. No matter who they were or how hard they fought the good fight, everyone was fair game.
Molly didn’t want to move from the spot where she stood. It was almost as if she’d been petrified.
Arthur informed her of the remainder of the news – how it happened, where they’d been and all of what he knew as far as details went.
Her own fears were now swarming her mind. Lily had been a dear friend not only to her but her brother, and her son - -
“Harry?! What happened to Harry?” It was in that instance, Molly came alive. She hastily stepped forward and over the tea mug, stepping closer to Arthur. Her eyes were wide with worry. “What happened to their son?”
“My darling, he's quite alright. The boy. . . survived.”
Molly’s entire. . . everything. . . filled with chills.
How was that possible? How was it that a baby lived whilst his very capable parents died? Not that Molly was complaining in slightest - Merlin, no! It just simply did not make the least bit of sense.
She wanted to hold her own children in that moment as she thought about little Harry crying all alone. She wanted to squeeze them and love them and make sure they were safe. Her eyes were fighting tears, but she pushed them away. There was no time for grieving - not now anyway.
Molly knew for a fact Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, and Ronald were all upstairs whilst baby Ginny was asleep in her cot in the living room. Bill was at Hogwarts. She had to write to him – this was his first year. He would hear of the news that ‘You Know Who’ had been killed and she wanted to make sure he was prepared, and though it was a very exciting day amongst the Wizarding World. . . it was also a very grave one too.
In fact, Molly wanted so bad to see her son and speak with Albus Dumbledore (whom she’d followed and believed in and looked to as leader since before she could ever remember) about who was going to take the boy in. . . that she decided in that moment she had to get to the school.
She drew her wand (Apple wood with a unicorn hair core, 11 1/4 inches with slightly yielding flexibility) from the pocket of her robes and cleaned up the broken mess of the mug on the floor. The cracks were repaired, and the mug was as good as new and was magically placed on the shelf where it belonged in the cupboard.
Molly returned her wand to its rightful pocket just before she went to grab her outer robes. (The ones she'd owned for many years. They were her favorite, and though they were worn and patched many times over. . . she couldn't find herself to part from them. Besides, it was always much more important to her for their family to save what little money they had for things that truly mattered rather than purchasing fancy new robes). She wrapped the garment around herself and fastened the top button between the loop where it connected at her chest.
She turned to face her husband. “Arthur. I need you to trust me, and I need you watch the children whilst I'm away. I may return with another child, and I need you to understand that I made a promise to Lily. If Harry needs a place to stay - - I know we don’t have the means for one more child but- ”
Arthur stopped her speaking with a raise of his hand. “I would never ask you to go against a promise made to a dear friend, my love. Do what you have to do. I will be here. The children and I will be just fine. We'll figure it all out once we know more of what's going on.”
Molly smiled as best she could given the circumstances. She hadn’t been given the chance to really allow the emotions of it all to hit. She was sure they would, but she was on a mission in that moment, and she had to complete it - not only to keep her promise to Lily but for Harry and his safety. She wouldn’t mourn the loss of her friend nor would she allow herself to shed one tear until she knew that boy was safe.
She made her way to the fireplace. Arthur followed.
"You'll be pleased to know I replaced the Floo powder last week, so there should be enough for your journey there and back."
Molly stepped forward and placed a kiss against his lips. It was a gesture filled with many thanks and so much love for the man. He was alway taking care of them - even when they didn't have the means. Arthur always found a way to make sure they had just what they needed. It was during times like these Molly was truly reminded just how much she loved and appreciated her husband and all he did for her and their family.
She took the bit of Floo powder needed to make her way there and back to and from the school in order to speak with Dumbledore about the plans regarding Harry. Drawing her wand once more from the pocket of her robes, she pointed it toward the pit, watching as the fireplace roared to life with green flames.
Molly stepped into the pit and dropped the powder into the flames.
Sparks flew about, and at the same time, she enunciated exactly where she going.
"Hogwarts School, Headmaster's office." and with a loud roar, Molly disappeared into the flames.
- - to be continued.
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