Drop a Stitch?
Hey guys! Well it's five thirty am here and I can't sleep because i'm getting the keys for my flat well today! What better way to handle not being able to sleep than writing about my favourite family? Please review and let me know what you think!
Disclaimer:
Sadly I don't own Harry Potter if I did Fred would never have died and Fred and George would have their own series of books!
Molly lost track of time as she stared at the variety of colours of wool before her with her knitting needles clutched firmly in her hands. She couldn't quite believe it was that time of year already, time to start knitting the Christmas jumpers for her family.
She knitted each of the jumpers by hand, just the way the muggles did it. There was a spell that would do the job much faster and perhaps to a better standard, though she felt her jumpers had improved greatly in quality over the last few years.
She had learnt how to knit the way muggles did the second Christmas after she had she began dating Arthur. Molly had wanted to get him something special for Christmas and was all too aware of his fascination with muggles. He was always complaining he was cold when they sat in the Gryffindor common room, therefore a jumper knitted the way the muggles did it seemed the perfect present and so began the tradition of lovingly knitting each member of her family a personalised jumper each Christmas.
Each year as she sat down to begin knitting the jumpers Arthur couldn't resist telling her how clever these muggles were and all the different things they had come up with to cope without magic.
This year however as Molly sat down to knit her first jumper she didn't know what to do. Fred was gone and again the agony of this surged through her. He wasn't going to open or wear his Christmas jumper but how could she not knit him him? Every year she gave her children a Christmas jumper and even although he was dead she still felt like she should knit him a jumper. But Fred was gone…would knitting him a jumper just make the pain and loss more profound? Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, she just didn't know what to do.
She stood sharply and pulled out her wand to put the wool and kitting needles away, she couldn't decide what to do right now
FGFGFG
"Mum?" George said one morning at dinner a few weeks later. He had only recently moved back out having moved home for a while after the battle of Hogwarts. He had sold the flat he and Fred had lived in and bought one still fairly close to the shop.
"Yes dear?" she asked turning to look at her son it pained her to hear the slight emptiness in his voice. He was doing so much better but she knew he never would not could be the same. Fred's death had hurt them all and they all missed him deeply but none could feel the loss to the extend George did.
"You should knit Fred a jumper, he would be furious if he didn't get one," he said.
In that moment the answer seemed so obvious of course Fred needed a jumper and who better to know that than George. Each Christmas she knitted a jumper for each of her children and Fred was still her child and would continue to get a jumper every Christmas.