It was a rare quiet afternoon in the Burrow. Arthur and Percy were still at work, Molly had gone upstairs for a nap, and most of the remaining Weasleys, along with Harry of course, had decided to take advantage of the clear day and play some Quiddich out back. Even Crookshanks had settled into a sunbeam and didn't seem to be inclined to move anytime soon. In fact, aside from the occasional distant shout drifting in from the Quiddich match, the house was almost entirely silent. The only other noises to be heard were some soft clickings, page turnings, and exasperated noises emanating from the living room.
Hermione sat in a corner of the couch, flipping through the book on her lap and occasionally pausing to give one page or another particularly close scrutiny. This was not unusual, and nor were the small noises of frustration she made as she gave up on one page and began looking for another. What was a bit out of the ordinary was the yarn and knitting needles laid out neatly beside her. Every so often she would reach over and pick them up, turning them over in her hands a few times before laying them down again with a huff and returning to her book.
This was the scene that Mrs. Weasley walked in on when she woke up fifteen minutes later. For a while she stood at the foot of the stairs, watching as Hermione switched her attention from book to yarn and back again. At last she stepped forward, clearing her throat lightly to avoid startling the girl before asking, "What are you reading, Hermione dear?"
"Er," Hermione said, coloring a little, "it's a muggle book called Knitting for Dummies. Not that I think I'm dumb! I mean, of course I still have a lot to learn, but there's this whole series of books, and I thought that they would have fairly simple and straightforward explanations about how to knit. I want to knit hats for… well, never mind, it's not really important. Only, I just can't seem to understand it." She finally stopped for breath, sending an almost baleful look at the yarn as though accusing it of keeping secrets from her.
"You know," Mrs. Weasley said, walking over to sit on the couch beside the girl, "it is possible to learn knitting from a book, but it's really much easier to have someone show you. If you like, I could help you out…"
"Really? Oh that would be wonderful! I was going to ask, but I wasn't sure you'd have the time and I really thought that the book ought to be able to teach me…" Hermione trailed off, caught between her enthusiasm for learning something new and her bashfulness at being caught needing help. Mrs. Weasley smiled understandingly, bringing her knitting basket down the stairs with a subtle wave of her wand. As she began to search through it, considering and discarding various pairings of yarn and needles, she spoke.
"I learned to knit from my grandmother. I was only eight years old, and my family was having a bit of a get together. No one was really paying attention to me, so I got bored and started wandering the house, and there she was on the sofa, knitting away. I was fascinated, and after I had watched for a while she just started to show me how it was done. When I was a bit older, I tried to thank her for it and tell her how much it meant to me, but she just smiled and thanked me instead, telling me that it was a joy to be able to pass down what she knew to someone else." With a smile, she held up some red wool and a pair of wooden needles before looking over at Hermione. "Well, are you ready to get started, dear?"
Hermione merely nodded, a bit humbled by Mrs. Weasley's story, and then watched intently as Molly began to demonstrate how to cast on.
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A while later, after Hermione was starting to get the hang of the knit stitch but long before Mrs. Weasley would have considered showing her how to purl, the serenity was broken by the woosh of green fire, a flash of pink hair, a series of thuds, and some muted swearing from the direction of the fireplace. After a moment in which the knitters exchanged bemused looks a familiar voice called out from the floor,
"Er, nothing died."
"Hullo, Tonks," Hermione replied.
"Wotcher!" Tonks answered, pulling herself upright. "What's up?"
"Mrs. Weasley is showing me how to knit," Hermione said, proudly holding up her work so far. It was a fairly typical first piece, with holes, varying numbers of stitches in each row, and a gauge that went from loose and airy to tight enough that you could beat someone to death with a finished product knit that way. Still, it was recognizably knitting, and slowly but surely it seemed to be improving as it got further from the bottom.
"Oooh, really?" Tonks asked enthusiastically, making her way over to the couch. "I always wanted to learn, but no one would ever teach me. Could you show me, too?" Without waiting for an answer she plonked herself down on the floor next to Mrs. Weasley's knitting basket and began to looking through it, promptly sending balls of yarn bouncing across the room. "Oops… I'll get those."
"Er…" Mrs. Weasley said, even her enthusiasm for sharing her craft seeming to dim in the face of the pink haired young woman scurrying around her living room, bumping into furniture and fishing yarn out of corners and out from under chairs. She was trying to think of a graceful way to back out of it when Tonks returned the final ball of yarn to her basket and sat back down in front of her with such an eager, earnest look on her face that Mrs. Weasley just couldn't refuse. With a small sigh she pulled a ball of yarn from her basket that perfectly matched Tonks' hair, cast onto another pair of wooden needles, handed them over to the young woman in front of her, and picked up her own knitting again.
"This is called the knit stitch…"
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Hey, this is M. Thanks for reading our first story together! Watch for the next chapter, written by Em, coming soon. In the meantime, any reviews would be greatly appreciated :)