Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Note: This one-shot mentions God and discusses beliefs. My beliefs don't necessary go in line with this and yours might not either. This is just a story. It's for a challenge. Please do not read if the subject matter easily offends.
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If Percy Weasley was putting blame on anyone it should have been his wife, but seeing as he loved her and didn't want to cause a rift in his marriage, he blamed no one but himself.
Having been a skeptic his entire life, he was hopeful he had passed it on to his children. He never believed in fairytales, never in legends or myths. He never said, 'Oh, Merlin!' when something went wrong, as if Merlin the Wizard was causing destruction to his life. He never said 'Oh my God,' either.
He didn't believe in God.
It had started innocently enough. Audrey had decided after her mother passed away that the children would go to church. She would pass on the experience she shared with her mother to them. They would bond over prayers and songs, beliefs and ideas.
Percy had been accepting.
He pushed the three to go, he never went himself. His wife didn't understand why. She hadn't been in the war since she was a Muggle. She hadn't lost Fred. Fred was just another person Audrey Weasley had never met before.
How was Percy supposed to pray to a higher power and believe in said person when he had lost hope, when he had seen what people were really capable of.
Lucy didn't enjoy church. She argued it was boring. She didn't like the dresses because they itched and she didn't want to sit around listening to sermons. She had stopped going when she turned seven, after dozing off one day and snoring so loudly, Audrey had almost turned purple from embarrassment.
Molly had been more willing.
The fist service she went to when she was six. Molly had sat up straight, mesmerized by the words that were being spoken around her. By the prayers others muttered under their breath, by the adoration in their eyes and the way everyone looked so happy and free once the service was over. She had asked her Mum to enroll her in the classes the Muggle children took to learn more about religion.
It was during those classes she learned about the devil. It was during those classes, away from her parents, Molly learned about heaven and hell.
And what brought you there.
-x-
"She won't open her door!" shouted Percy. He angrily knocked on his eldest daughters bedroom door, waiting for it to swing open and the redheaded girl to peek out to tell her father she was just joking.
"Calm down, Percy, be rational," Audrey said, placing her hands on her husband's shoulders.
Percy tensed, he stared at his redheaded wife over his blue horn-rimmed spectacles and glared at her, anger boiling inside of him. Percy Weasley rarely lost his temper. He rarely yelled at his wife or children but his daughter had set him off. He felt like he had been slapped in the face by her delicate hands.
"You're telling me to be rational?" he shouted, giving Audrey a look of horror. "My daughter—"
"Stop yelling!" she shouted back, taking her hands off of him and instead began pacing the corridor. "You're scaring Lucy!" Audrey pointed to their youngest daughter who was sitting cross legged by her open bedroom door, nervously braiding and unbraiding her red hair as her parents fought in front of her.
"Lucy," Percy's eyes fell on his daughter, "go to your room," he commanded angrily. The girl jumped from her spot on the wooden floor and rushed into her room, slamming her white door behind her. Percy and Audrey could hear the soft cries coming from her room but neither of them moved. "What do you expect me to do? What do you think my family is going to say? You think they're going to be thrilled?"
His voice was heavy with sarcasm. Audrey rolled her blue eyes and shoved a hand through her knotted red hair. "Don't use that tone of voice with me Percy," she spat. Her face was turning red but it was no different than his.
"Audrey—"
"Percy, calm down."
Percy turned a darker shade of red as he stared at his wife. Calm down? He was always the rational one but this, this was a matter of great importance.
"My daughter doesn't want to go to Hogwarts," he whispered the sentence as if there were others listening in. "She'd rather be a squib or a Muggle," his voice was filled with horror and was slightly hysterical as he rapped his fist against the door again.
"You say that like it's a bad thing being a Muggle," Audrey responded tightly.
Percy stopped himself before he rolled his eyes and sighed, trying to take deep calming breaths. "You know I don't mean it like that," he said with a groan. "They're…they're brainwashing her down at that place. I should have never let her—"
He was cut off by Audrey who angrily stomped her foot on the ground and crossed her arms against her chest, her blue eyes glaring daggers at her husband. "That place? Brainwashing? Do you hear yourself? Percy! That place is a place of worship.Just because you don't believe—"
But Percy wasn't listening to his wife anymore. He was banging on the door again and twisting the doorknob every few seconds to see if his daughter had finally come to her senses. "Open this door right now, Molly Weasley, or else I'll open it myself." No answer, he scoffed and muttered an 'unbelievable' to himself before shouting, "You have until the count of three and then I'll alohomor—"
The door swung open and out popped Molly Weasley's head. She stared petrified at her father, biting her nails and stepping back to let him enter her bedroom.
"Don't say it, Dad, don't say the word," she begged, rushing back inside her room and to her bed.
Percy counted to three in his head and then slowly walked towards his eleven year old daughter who had curled up on her bed, hugging a fluffy brown stuffed bear with silent tears pouring out of her bright blue eyes.
His heart sank as his hand gently rubbed her back and he took a seat beside her.
"Molly, we need to talk."
"You're upset with me," she whispered guiltily.
"No," he said, wiping her tears away gently.
"You're lying. You shouldn't lie, they told us that—"
Percy felt the anger in his body building up again and he let go of his daughter, trying desperately not to yell. "I'm disappointed," he admitted quietly.
Molly didn't say anything as she stared down at her chocolate colored bear. It gave Percy enough time to look around her room. He should have noticed the changes over the years. Her room had once been filled with various trinkets from the Wizarding World. She used to have real shooting stars on her ceiling, moving pictures of different bands she liked to listen too and stuffed animals that used to dance around her room.
Now, her room was silent. Her stuffed animals made no movements, her pictures were still. If Percy didn't know better he would have thought a Muggle child lived here.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingers. "Make me understand. Why don't you want to go to Hogwarts? Are you scared? Everyone is scared when they first go. I was scared. No one is going to hurt you. The lessons won't be hard if you study. You're a smart girl. You're pretty, the boys will be lining up to date you and I'll have to give them a stern talking to or hex them."
Molly flinched at 'hex' and scooted away from her father.
"I don't want to go to Hogwarts!" she shouted angrily. The tears were no longer rolling down her cheeks. Instead her blue eyes were full of anger as they targeted her father. "Why do I have to go? M-m-m…it's evil."
"Magic isn't evil," he responded sternly.
She scoffed, dropping her bear to the bed, glaring at her father. "It's the work of the devil."
For the second time that day, Percy felt like someone had slapped him across the face. What had happened to his daughter? What had happened to his little girl who used to sit on his knee and clap her hands with excitement as he swished and flicked his wand, creating things out of thin air?
Steadying himself, Percy nervously said, "Who said that? Magic is good," he emphasized the 'good,' waiting for his daughter to nod her head in agreement. "Why would you…why," he was stumbling over his words, nervously, he removed his spectacles and busied himself with cleaning them. "It's in your blood!" he argued as an after thought.
Molly wasn't backing down. She sat up tall, eyes still storming with anger and crossed her arms against her chest, like her mum had done only minutes before.
"Then my blood is dirty! And so is yours! And Lucy's and Uncle Ron's and Uncle Harry's—"
A look of dread swept across Percy's face and he backed away from his daughter, shaking slightly. He didn't know what to do, for the first time as a parent he felt inadequate, none of the parenting books dealt with magical children wanting to be muggles or squibs.
"Don't talk about your family like that. You have no idea what you're talking about. Do you understand what you're saying? Who put this in your head?"
Molly's blue eyes shimmered with tears, she sniffled and wiped at the snot that was dripping from her nose, pulling at her blue duvet angrily. "You don't understand. Mum doesn't understand either and I thought she would. I won't go to Hogwarts," she shook her head angrily at 'Hogwarts,' the look of hatred on her face sent chills up Percy's spine. "Don't you care about what I want? Don't you care about my soul?"
Soul? Since when did eleven-year-old girls worry about their souls? Percy didn't know what to think, he removed his spectacles again, cleaning them with the end of his shirt. This was unbelievable. His mind was reeling. What was he supposed to say?
"Don't you want to learn how to brew potions and pet a Hippogriff and become a Prefect?" he asked, hoping that she would agree with the last part of his sentence the most.
Molly shook her head defiantly, "No."
"But what about charms?" he asked, thinking through the subjects he had taken at Hogwarts. "Molly, you love it when you visit the family shop. You love the toys and all the little trinkets, those things are charmed, they have spells on them."
Percy paused. Molly hadn't willingly visited the shop in years. She was always kicking and screaming when they had to go, the last time he tried to take her, he had to throw her over his shoulder to get her through the front door.
"No," she repeated with more force.
Her father was getting desperate. He didn't know what else to say. He was failing as a parent. This was his punishment for defying his parents all those years ago.
"Herbology then?" he asked, wrinkling his nose at the thought of flobberworms. "Astronomy? Arithmancy? Ancient Runes? Defense—"
"No!" she screeched. "I don't want to learn about spells. I don't want to cause harm to other people and to my," Molly stopped abruptly. She took two deep breaths to slow down the angry beating of her heart. "Haven't you ever believed in something, even though others told you not too?" she asked softly.
Yes.
"Prove it to me, prove to me that magic is evil."
Molly's eyes brightened and she hopped off her bed. "Alright," she said, rushing to her nightstand and opening up the wooden drawer. She rummaged around some papers and then pulled out a black leather book, turning on her heel and reaching her arm out so Percy could grab it.
He blinked, staring down at the book with a grim expression.
"Where did you get this?" His voice was angry, sharp.
"I was doing research and I found it in your study."
Percy didn't have to guess what kind of research she was doing. The title of the book, The Reign of Lord Voldemort, told him everything. His hand shook, nearly dropping the book but his daughter snatched it from him, a small smile on her face as she flipped through it.
"What is this—"
"Look," she said, pointing to a drawing of Voldemort. Percy swallowed down the bile that was rising in his throat and closed his eyes. He didn't have to look at the picture to know what he looked like. The slit nose, the thin dry lips and the hollow looking eyes haunted him when he laid his head at night. "Lord Voldemort, he had his own following. Death Eaters, death, does that sound like something that's safe? That isn't part of evil, that the devil wouldn't be part of? Look at his eyes Daddy," she was waving the book in his face, "the darkness! He went to Hogwarts too."
"Enough," Percy shouted hoarsely.
Guiltily, though she didn't know why, Molly closed the book and threw it on her bed, far away from her father.
"You're not listening to me—"
"Magic isn't evil."
Molly frowned and glared at her father, crossing her arms against her chest against and giving him an impatient look. "Prove it."
Percy nodded and pursed his lips together, "Grab my hand," he whispered tiredly.
So, Molly did.
-x-
It had taken them only a mere minute to apparate outside the gates of Hogwarts. Percy wordlessly sent his Patronus to the Headmaster, waiting to be allowed inside.
The two Weasley's only waited a five minutes before Percy led his daughter around the back of the castle. Molly stared in awe at how much bigger it looked in person than in the pictures she used to look at in her books. The castle looked fake against the bright blue cloudless sky.
"Do you know what this is?" Percy asked, snapping his daughter from her daydream. She had been staring up at one of the towers, wondering which one her father used to sleep in.
"No," she coughed, staring at the tall circular monument he was pointing at. She inched towards it, noticing names etched into each stone.
"It's in memory of the fallen from the Second War. Muggles have their wars, we have ours. In both worlds it's a terrible tragedy."
Molly watched as her father reached out and rubbed one of the stones. She squinted her eyes to read the name 'Fred Weasley.' She gulped nervously as her father stared sadly at the name.
"I don't understand."
Percy sighed, dropping his hand and walking away from the circular stone wall, walking on the grass further down and away from his daughter who trailed behind him.
"Molly, I'm not telling you to stop believing in God. I'm not going to force you to stop going to church. I can't force you to stop believing in what you believe in. Do you know who this is?"
Molly stopped behind her father, her eyes popped open in shock as she stared at the white marble sarcophagus before them.
"A…Albus Dumbledore, he was the Headmaster…"
Percy nodded, cutting her off. "When I went to Hogwarts he was my Headmaster. I thought he was mad," he grinned, "brilliant, but mad. At one point during my life, once I had graduated from Hogwarts, when the war was starting up again, I had forced myself to believe that it wasn't real. I had convinced myself that everything this man said and everything your Uncle Harry said, and Ron and just about everyone else in my life that believed in Dumbledore were wrong."
"So, what did you do?" Molly whispered, staring down at the grass, anxiously waiting for an answer.
"Nothing," he responded truthfully, bitterness in his voice. "I didn't do anything until it was almost too late."
Molly sighed with frustration. "I don't understand what this has to do with God."
Percy faced his daughter, a stern look on his face. "How can magic be evil, Molly, how can it be evil when it has done so much good?"
She shrugged her shoulders, nervousness filling her. "Because…it caused death and destruction…it has torn families apart and it hurt Muggles and Muggles…they don't even know about magic, they don't believe in it either. They think it doesn't exist. If magic wasn't evil then why can't they know about it?" she argued, turning her nose up at her father.
He wanted to say because it was against the rules but he didn't think it would help him win his argument.
Percy exhaled with frustration and threw his arms in the air. "Molly, magic has done so much more than that," he pointed to the castle, to the stone circular wall, towards the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest. "It heals people, just like the Muggle doctors do in their hospitals. Our Healers do the same thing in St. Mungo's. We help Muggles. We help them in their wars."
Molly scoffed. "You're asking me to come here and go against what I believe in. You haven't proven anything to me."
Percy crossed his arms against his chest, not ready to give up on his daughter. He stood, pondering what to say next. It had felt like he had lost a part of himself, like his daughter was purposely trying to hurt him but he had realized early on it wasn't about him. It was about her. It was about saving herself.
"Molly, how can magic be the work of the devil when you, my daughter, have magic coursing in her veins? How can someone so good be part of evil?" he reasoned, watching her face fall.
He wanted to reach out to her, to squeeze his daughter to his chest and promise that she would be alright, that everything he was saying was the truth though he couldn't prove it she just had to trust him.
"Maybe I am," she cried, shaking her head, "maybe I'm a terrible person. Maybe once I learn all these things I'll be like Voldemort. I'll be evil just like him."
Percy reached for his daughter, gripping her hands and forcefully whispered, "You are not evil."
Molly looked up into the blue tearful eyes of her father. "How do you know?" she questioned. "How do you know God won't punish me for doing magic?"
He sighed as Molly threw her arms around his middle, hugging him. "I know because you are my daughter, Molly Weasley," he stroked her red hair, trying to calm down the crying girl. "I know He won't punish you because you are a good girl. He would not have sent you to us if He didn't think you would be."
"But you don't believe, you don't go to church with us. You don't honestly believe that," she cried.
All Percy could do was hold his daughter tightly to him, not wanting to ever let her go. "Molly, if you believe so strongly then I believe in you. All I can do is hope you'll accept magic into your life one day."
Molly didn't say anything. Instead she squeezed her father back, contracting every muscle in her body. She couldn't let go of her beliefs, she wouldn't, but as the two stood hugging by the lake outside of Hogwarts she thought magic must not have been so bad if her father believed in it.
Author's Note: So, what did you think? It's very different from anything I have written before. This is for ACrule's 'I'm a Believer' Challenge and I had: I believe magic is the work of the devil.