Molly Weasley was perfect. No one would argue with that statement because it was a fact. She was the perfect Ravenclaw prefect who was the top pick for Head Girl next year. She had gotten twelve O.W.L.S and she was the only one of her cousins to never have a detention. She was the kind of daughter that her father could be proud of, the kind of daughter who would fit perfectly on to the Ministry of Magic Christmas card when her father became the Minister. Because she didn't care what the rest of her family thought, he was going to be Minister and she was going to follow in his footsteps and they would become the first ever father-daughter to rule the wizarding world.

Her boyfriend was none other than Terrance Wood, the equally perfect son of Oliver Wood and Padma Patil. He was the only person that had ever had the possibility of competing with her for top of their year. Even though Molly always won, they were still competitive to a fault. No one could say that they were very serious and they surely weren't near as serious as any of Molly's cousin Roxie's flings.

Actually for as much as Molly complained about her obnoxiously loud family, she was heartbroken that her mother and father were going to be out of the country over Christmas and she would have to stay at school. She couldn't even stay with a family member because the rest of them were going to Romania to spend Christmas with Uncle Charlie. Even worse was that Terrance was going home for Christmas as were the rest of her friends so she was going to be stuck at Hogwarts as the only Weasley in Ravenclaw. Of course, she had never regretted being the only Weasley to not be sorted into Gryffindor; she loved the bronze and blue colors of Ravenclaw. It looked much nicer with her deep auburn curls than scarlet and gold. It also separated her from those of her cousins who thought that misbehaving was a good quality and detentions should be collected like chocolate frog cards. She had always felt partially responsible for her younger cousins while they were at Hogwarts because she was the second oldest Weasley although Teddy Lupin should really just be included as part of the family. If Victoire got any say in it, Teddy would be part of the family in the next few years.

Molly spent the entire day before everyone left for break with Terrance and it was possibly the best day ever. After the Christmas dinner, Molly walked with him as far as she could. At the edge of the gates to Hogwarts they stopped and he looked at her. No, he looked over her as if he was looking for someone else.

"Can we talk, Molly?" He asked his voice had an odd tone to it that was unfamiliar.

"Sure, about what?" she asked tentatively.

"You know, about us."

Molly reached up her hand and guided his face down so that she could look at him properly. His brown eyes were completely empty. His face which was usually so descriptive was devoid of emotion and that's when she knew. He wasn't looking at her at all; he really had been looking for someone else. Terrance Wood, the only person at Hogwarts who was just as perfect as her had decided that she wasn't good enough. Her grey eyes burned with tears but she refused to let him see them. Quickly, she turned her back on him and walked swiftly up to the castle. Molly could hear him calling her name but she didn't care. She didn't want his explanation and she sure as hell didn't want his pity or excuses.

That night was the first in seven years that Molly Weasley cried herself to sleep. She was glad that no one else was in her room because she had always thought that her roommates were just being dramatic when they cried over a boy. That was before she knew how much failure could hurt.


Molly Weasley awoke the next morning, not to the sight of her pale orange room or her parent's smiling faces but to the blue hangings around her bed and the silence that came from complete loneliness. She got ready, pulling on jeans and her Weasley sweater from the year before then padded down the ice cold stairs into the Ravenclaw common room. The room was usually so cozy with its low tables and settees but it just felt cold and much too quiet at the moment.

She pulled on her trainers and crawled out of the portrait hole into the deserted corridor. The sun was still barely peeking over the horizon as she walked down the Grand Staircase into the Entrance Hall. She crossed it and pulled open the giant wooden doors that led to the grounds. The pale morning sunlight fell across the blanket of newly fallen snow of Hogwarts. As she walked the sun warmed her cheeks that had been turned pink by the cold.

She walked aimlessly across the grounds finally ending up at the Battle memorial. It was a white wall with golden letters with the name of every person who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Apparently the idea had been taken from some other war memorial but Molly thought that it was spectacular. The golden letters shone in the direct sunlight and she traced her fingers over the spot that she would have been able to find with her eyes closed. Frederick Weasley. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. They were names that she had heard all of her life, even though she had never met those people she felt like she knew them.

Faintly, she started to hum the Christmas carol, The Little Drummer Boy, it had always been her favorite and Teddy's grandmother, Andromeda had once revealed to her that it had been Tonks's favorite too. That had made her cherish it even more, connecting her to the woman that she had never met but had changed her entire family.

"Molly Weasley, shouldn't you be off chasing after some cousins of yours?" A voice behind her snidely remarked. She turned around and saw Lysander Scamander sitting in one of the window ledges of the castle.

"Shouldn't you be off polishing trophies or writing lines?" She retorted. His shaggy dark brown hair hung into his silver eyes. He probably did have detention at sometime this weekend and if he didn't he would by the end of the day most likely. The tune of the Little Drummer Boy floated back to her and with a start, she realized that it was coming from Lysander's fingers. Well, not his fingers exactly but the guitar that was sitting on his lap.

"You know something Weasley? You're too uptight and I'm not just saying that. I mean you're gonna give yourself an ulcer or something. Relax a little bit." He smiled at her in his irritating way where he only lifted half of his mouth.

"Oh like you do? By cutting class? Breaking rules left and right? Destroying your future?" Molly snapped.

"No, I just relax and do what's fun. As for my future, I don't know. Where I'm going, I might not need Hogwarts grades. Why do they matter so much to you?" He squinted towards the sun. Dressed all in black, he stood out again the snow except for his eyes which matched the grayish color of the sky.

"What are you talking about?" She took a step closer to him. Silently, he studied her face with those steel grey eyes than shook his head and shrugged.

"It's nothing. It doesn't matter anyway." He said quietly as he turned back to his guitar. Molly watched him for a moment. His fingers moved up and down the neck of the guitar with such deft that it looked completely effortless. His one hand gently strumming at the strings as the soft acoustic music rose up to the sky.

She sat down beside him on the window ledge and looked out. She could tell why he chose this spot; you could see everything important at Hogwarts from there, the memorial, the lake, Hagrid's hut, the Whomping Willow, the Quidditch Pitch. Everything that spelled Hogwarts could be seen from that very place.

"I'm sure that it is something and that it does matter." Molly repeated the words that her mother had said to her once.

Lysander smiled again only lifting the corner of his mouth. "I just don't know if magic is right for me." He said.

"What do you mean? Of course magic is right for you. You are magical." Molly giggled at the absurdity of it but stopped when she noticed the hurt look in his eyes. He was being completely serious.

"Exactly, I'm magic but I don't want to be just magic."

"Then what do you want to be?"

"I don't know but I want to have the chance to find out that I'm good at something other than magic!" He stood up and started pacing in front of Molly. "I mean for all we know, you could be an amazing ski jumper! And we would never know because you're just magic!"

Lysander Scamander was always cool, rebellious; the kid of boy that girls in movies always went for but right then he was none of those things.

"But we aren't just magic!" She automatically defended. "Just think of my dad, he's loves photography."

"Yeah, but does he ever take pictures with a muggle camera? That's art when you only have a second to get the picture perfect." Molly thought that it sounded much too hard and boring but still pictures had always amazed her. There was something about them that could take your breath away or make you laugh more than a wizard picture could.

"So you want to be a photographer?"

"Merlin, no, but it's the thing. I shouldn't have to work at the ministry or be a shopkeeper. I should have more options than that! You—Molly—you should have more options. You're so smart that you should be able do so much more with your mind!" He exclaimed.

Molly was shocked, she knew that she was smart but she didn't know that Lysander had ever paid enough attention to notice it. She always thought that he was too busy annoying something to ever think about academics. She felt her cheeks grow red and this time it wasn't from the cold.

"Think of what you could be without magic." He said, barely above a whisper and Molly noticed how close they were standing.

"A failure," She said. "You asked why grades matter so much to me. It's because I refuse to be a failure, a failure like you."

She walked away, knowing that she shouldn't have said it. Knowing that it hurt him and that she should go back and apologize but she didn't. She just kept walking.


That night, Molly sat alone in the common room with her History of Magic essay. It was amazing to her that she was the only Ravenclaw who had stayed at school for Christmas. Ravenclaws were supposed to love school so why didn't more stay for break?

Suddenly, the door to the portrait hole swung open. Instinctively, she launched herself behind a chair as a boy climbed through the small space.

"Alright, Weasley, I know your here and we're going to talk." Lysander's voice rang in the common room. He didn't sound mad but Molly didn't want to take a chance. She stood up but stayed behind the chair.

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you," He said.

"God, Terrance needs a good kick in the pants. You aren't like this Molly." He walked toward her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You—Molly—you aren't this person. You aren't the type of person to flat out call someone else a failure." He sighed. Stepping out from behind the chair, Molly softened a little bit; she saw that his dark hair was mussed like he had been running his hands through it.

"How would you know? How did you get in here?"

"That doesn't matter. I know because I know you. You're the girl who frets about the littlest detail especially it if has to do with your family, you do everything perfect the first time but insist on doing it a second, you are completely anal and I think that I just might be in love with you."

"Yeah, sure." Molly said starting up the stairs but he stopped her by gently grabbing her hand.

"Believe me, Molly." He pleaded and behind his gray eyes was a truthfulness that she couldn't deny.

"Why?" was all she asked as she stepped down so that she was at eye level with the tall, lanky Gryffindor.

"Because you balance me out, you're perfect in everyway and me—well—you said it yourself, I'm a failure. Together we even out and make one kind of okay person." He smiled and adjusted his hand so that there fingers were laced together.

Molly studied him for a moment before kissing him on the forehead and walking up the stairs. She wasn't ready for him but maybe she didn't have to be.

On Christmas morning, Molly Weasley awoke to the blue hangings on her bed at Hogwarts but somehow, the room seemed warmer. She sat up and saw the perfect pyramid of gifts sitting at the end of her bed. With a flick of her wand, she summoned the pile into her lap and looked at them.

On top was a package wrapped in plain brown paper and no note. She took off the paper and saw a small jewelry box. Opening it, she automatically knew who it was from. It was a round locket and on the inside was a note that said, Failure?

Molly decided that she just might have to give ski jumping a try because after all, for all she knew she could be a world champion ski jumper. As she opened the rest of her gifts, Molly thought that failure might not be so bad after all.