When Molly Weasley was little, she used to hate her glasses. They were just plain weird. Her older cousin Victoire and her friend Teddy didn't need glasses; neither did Dominique or Molly's sister Lucy, it was just Molly.
One time, when she was seven, she tried to go an entire day without her glasses. She bumped into everything and her mum had to come into her room when she heard Molly crying.
"Why don't you have your glasses on?" her mother said, shushing her.
"They're ugly!" Molly screamed, slamming her arms to her sides.
"Do you think your daddy and granddad are ugly?" her mum asked smiling.
Molly shook her head.
"They wear glasses. That just makes them all the more special. Don't you want to be special?" her mum asked.
Molly thought, and nodded her head.
"Then put these on," her mother said, as she slid the glasses onto her face and kissed her forehead.
MW~MW~MW~MW~MW~MW~MW
From that day on, Molly loved her glasses. She especially loved them come Hogwarts. If it wasn't enough to be the only Weasley to ever be sorted into Hufflepuff, the glasses made her a special Hufflepuff. She thought they made her even more beautiful than she already was, the long, squared, thick black framed glasses accentuated her long, wavy red hair, she thought it made her look, if she dared say, rather trendy. All her friends agreed with her, especially the one she cared about most, Gavin Macmillan. Nowadays, she laughed at the thought of hating her glasses; they made her who she was. She could couldn't imagine life without them.