Reminiscence
By Atlas May Wood
For The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Training Camp; Finals—Weasleys
The Burrow—March 2028
A softly shining ray of sun pierces the mottled glass window of the Burrow's homely living room, coming to rest upon the quietly content face of one Molly Weasley. Perched comfortably in her wooden rocking chair, the old woman hums quietly to herself as her knitting needles clack together.
Reclined deeply in a corduroy armchair to her right, her husband Arthur Weasley slowly turns the page of a muggle newspaper one of his grandchildren dropped off. He runs roughly calloused fingers over the black and white still pictures that adorn the page.
A thud emanates from the nearby kitchen, and a blonde-haired child scampers into the room. Victoire's daughter—Molly and Arthur's first great-grandchild—grins mischievously at the pair.
Molly's eyes light up, crinkling at the corners into well-used laugh lines. "Getting into trouble again, are we?" she chides lightly, drawing the child to her side. "Here you go, dear, this will keep you out of the way." She hands her a ball of maroon coloured yarn and instructs the girl to untangle it.
Eventually, the girl's mind wanders, as young minds are prone to do, and she finds herself gazing at a bookshelf filled with decades of memories stored neatly in photo albums. She selects one at random and, staggering under the weight, hauls it onto her great-grandfather's lap.
"1965-1970," reads the tattered spine.
Arthur chuckles and flips the album open. The blond-haired girl grins as she runs her fingers over the moving photographs. Arthur turns the page and the girl gasps, pointing towards a beautiful young woman in a shimmering evening gown.
The woman is laughing as a tall man in dress robes slings an arm around her waist. They share a heartfelt look before turning to grin at the camera.
"Quite a story to go with that, pet," Arthur tells the girl, beaming endearingly at his wife.
Molly smiles fondly.
Hogwarts Castle—December 1966
The camera clicks in a blinding flash.
The young man steers the beautiful woman onto the dance floor as the band begins to play. "You look ravishing, Molly," the man says as he spins his dance partner around the floor.
Molly beams, pulling Arthur close and kissing him firmly on the lips. "As do you, lovey," she teases, swaying in his arms.
The sixth-years embrace in the Great Hall. As the floor fills with couples grinning from ear to ear, snow begins to fall from the enchanted ceiling. The music changes to a slow waltz.
Molly laughs as Arthur throws in steps of his own invention. They circle the floor with reckless abandon, twirling their way between friends as they reach the end of the hall, where a table sits laden with refreshments.
Arthur releases Molly with a flourish, bowing deeply to his partner.
"Punch?" he asks smilingly. Molly takes the proffered cup.
"A toast," he suggests, raising his glass. "To Hogwarts, to Yule Balls…" He smiles softly at the redheaded beauty by his side. "To love."
"To love," Molly echoes, tapping their glasses together with a faint clink.
The music recommences dramatically as the band begins playing a lively tune. Molly glances towards the front of the hall excitedly, reaching one hand out to tug on Arthur's sleeve.
"Let's go dance, love," she chitters. Arthur catches her hand, spinning her around. Molly's jaw drops.
"Arthur," she whispers, squeezing his right hand as she takes in the scene before her. Arthur is down on his knee, grinning wickedly at her shock, with a ring box balanced in his left hand.
"Molly Prewett," he starts softly. "You are the love of my life. I know we're young now, and I know your parents don't approve, but—" He releases her hand to open the jewelry box, revealing a modest wedding band. "We can elope, after we graduate next year. Come away with me, love. Marry me."
Molly blinks once, twice, before hauling him to his feet into a crushing hug. "Yes," she whispers tearfully.
A camera clicks, and a blinding flash envelops the pair.
The Burrow—March 2028
The little blonde-haired girl smooths her hand over the photograph of the beautiful woman in the shimmering gown, watching as she pulls the tall, kneeling man into a crushing embrace on an endless loop.
Molly wipes away a tear.
James Potter, balancing a black-haired infant in one arm, enters the living room, followed by his brother and sister. They seat themselves at their grandparents' feet.
"This one," the little blonde-haired girl says, pointing to an explosion of colour—a crowd of people all laughing and smiling and clapping in the middle of a field.
"Ah," Arthur nods emphatically. "That's from our honeymoon in America. Summer of 1969. We were passing through a town on our way to the coast when this group of young people, like us at the time, I suppose, comes rushing past us. We found out that they were on their way to a music festival."
Molly chuckles. "And of course, your great-grandfather wanted to experience a muggle cultural event."
"First-hand experience, Molly dear," he says seriously, though there is a peculiar glint in his eye.
The young couple in the photo, clearly distinguishable by their out of place clothing and hair, grin at the camera as people throw up peace signs in the background.
"First-hand experience, indeed," Molly echoes teasingly.
Woodstock Festival—August 1969
"Thank you," Arthur says, taking the camera back from the muggle man.
"Sure, man," he replies before collapsing back onto the ground.
"Muggle music is so odd," Molly whispers to Arthur as they make their way through the crowd. "And look at what they're wearing, dear! Oh goodness, that woman is topless!"
Arthur shrugs his shirt off enthusiastically, meeting Molly's sceptical stare as he flings it into the crowd. "I'm trying to fit in, love," he says, before bounding forwards to examine the strange contraption hanging from a muggle man's neck.
Molly scoffs good-humouredly as she pushes forwards, enchanted by the muggle culture around her.
"Hey sweetheart, got a joint?"
Molly glances up, startled, as a topless muggle man wearing enormous spectacles approaches her. "I beg your pardon," she stutters. "What is a joint?"
The man stares uncomprehendingly at her for a moment before a slow grin takes over his blank expression.
"Oh, you're funny. Come on, sweetheart, I have a friend who's on the make. He'd love to meet a choice girl like you."
Molly blinks as the muggle starts in the opposite direction. "Alright?"
Arthur, having learned that the contraption is a device that allows for magnified vision—called binoculars, of all things—turns around to pass on this information to his wife.
"Molly?" he calls into the crowd.
Not long after, Arthur finds his wife, laying contentedly on the ground. "Molly, love, what are you doing?"
"Woah, dude," her muggle friend says, waving his hand at him. "Don't flip your wig." Arthur's hand strays to his hair, offended at the insinuation.
Molly grins coyly at Arthur through a haze of smoke. She raises her hand to him, beckoning him towards her. "You got to try this, Arthur."
Soon after, Arthur joins Molly on the ground and they bask in the strange atmosphere created by muggle culture. Later in the evening, the couple bid farewell to their new friends and return to their hotel in Bethel.
"A most enlightening afternoon," Arthur mumbles as he collapses onto the bed.
Molly giggles in response, snuggling into Arthur's side. "Muggles still listen to strange music."
The Burrow—March 2028
"You went to Woodstock?" Bill says disbelievingly as he joins his daughter, Victoire, on the floor.
Molly hums in response, returning surreptitiously to her knitting.
"What about that one, grandad?" the little girl asks, clinging to Arthur's knee.
"Oh, this one's especially exciting," he stage-whispers. "This is from when Molly and I were involved in a little bit of high stakes espionage!"
Bill groans—"Not this story again"—while the rest of the assembled family laughs.
Molly smiles to herself as she works away at her knitting.
Fin.