Written for the Hogwarts Casino 2014 Challenge/Competition on HPFC. Prompt: Write about how Molly and Arthur Weasley felt during Ron's absence.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. Enough said.
Enjoy!
The house was quiet, save for the clanking of dishes as Molly Weasley worked her way around the kitchen. Arthur Weasley sat at the counter, staring out the window, which for the first time since that day was not covered by blinds.
"Tea?" Molly asked, turning around to spare a glance at her husband. He shook his head, continuing his silent vigil.
Molly let out a sigh, stopping the commotion in the kitchen with a wave of her wand and sitting down heavily in a chair opposite Arthur's.
She laid a hand on one of his, looking through the window, at the inky-black night beyond the glass. "I miss him. I miss them, all of them."
Arthur nodded, staying silent.
"Do you think they're looking at the sky, seeing the same sky we are?" Molly asked, continuing despite her husband's silence. "Do you, Arthur?"
After a long pause, he spoke. "Yes," he said slowly, "I think so. I know so."
Molly bit her lip to stop the words from coming out. You have to believe they are, because if they aren't then they're dead.
"I wonder what they're doing," Arthur said, breaking the quiet. "Are they enjoying the night? Sleeping inside the tent?"
"What tent?" Molly said sharply.
"I gave them the tent," Arthur said evenly, meeting her gaze. "The one Perkins gave us, remember?"
After a moment, Molly smiled. "They'll have someplace to sleep, then." She glanced guiltily at the ground. "I wish I'd have helped them, instead of trying to stop them," she sniffed.
"You were trying to protect them," Arthur told her, lacing his fingers with hers. "You helped them in your own way."
"I know," she used her other hand, the one not in his grasp, to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "I just - I just wish I could have given them something to help them, food maybe - "
"Relax," Arthur interrupted. "Hermione's a smart girl, she'll know what to pack."
At this, Molly seemed even more guilty. "But I tried to stop them!" she burst out, dissolving into a fresh set of tears. "I thought I could stop them from going, if I stopped them from packing…"
"Mollywobbles, what's done is done," Arthur let out a sigh of his own and glanced back at the moon. "Right now, we can only hope - no, believe - that they're safe. That our son is safe. That his friends are safe."
Molly sniffled once more before smiling. "Which star do you think they're looking at?" she said, getting up and opening the window. It was a dangerous thing to do, but at that moment neither of them cared.
Arthur stood up and approached the window. He leaned out, peering high over their heads. "The North Star, perhaps," he said, as if pondering the possibilities.
"Perhaps," Molly leaned out of the window next to her husband. "But I do hope they're sleeping. They'll need all the rest they can get."
A chuckle escaped Arthur's mouth, ringing out into the still night. The couple leaned against each other, hoping against hope that their son and his friends would return home safely.
If there was even a home to return to.