Chapter 3
Toys
A/N: The Babbitty Rabbitty tale is a copy, paraphrased as Molly reads it. Full credit to JKR! See wiki link.
Warning: Canon child abuse is mentioned from DH2; Arthur recalls this.
"Bed?" Jacob asked again, holding Molly's hand and looking around the small room once occupied by Percy. There was a bed, a bureau with a small lamp, a nightstand, and a plain area rug on the floor.
"This is your room, now, Jacob, and we'll get some things tomorrow to help you move in and make it your own," Molly repeated, turning down the comforter and patting the bed. She stared at the strange boy for a moment, his hair reflecting more red in the warm glow of the lamp. She smiled.
While Jacob was obviously toilet trained, he hadn't been really sure how to brush his teeth properly, but he'd been fascinated when Molly had transfigured a stick into a toothbrush for him. What was more surprising, was that when the boy had put it down, the toothbrush had turned back into a stick without her magic. Now he was staring around Percy's old room in wonder, even though there wasn't so much as a poster on the blank walls.
"You don't wet the bed, do you?" Molly asked, coaxing him in and pulling the red and gold comforter over him.
"No," Jacob answered, smiling. "Story?"
Molly sat down on the edge of the bed and took up The Tales of Beedle the Bard. How long had it been since she'd read a bedtime story to a child? Ginny was seventeen now, so she figured at least eleven years. She opened the book to "Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump" and began to read.
Jacob's toy dragon poked his head out to listen, too.
"A long long time ago, in a land far far away, there was a mean Muggle King who decided to keep all the magic in the world for himself. In order to get all the magic in the world, he needed to capture all the witches and wizards in the world, so he formed the Brigade of Witch-Hunters, armed with packs of wild dogs."
"No!" Jacob shook his head. So did the dragon.
"But first, he needed to learn how to use magic, so he called for someone with magical powers to teach him. No real wizards or witches responded, but a Muggle pretended to be a wizard, and offered to teach him, despite not knowing any magic himself.
Soon, the Muggle teacher demanded money and treasure for his services, and he hid all these things in his small house. Babbitty, the king's washerwoman, hid and watched the Muggle as he pulled two twigs from a tree and later pretended these were magic wands.
While the king and the Muggle were practicing, they heard Babbitty laughing hysterically from her little shack. This enraged the King, who demanded that the Muggle help him perform in front of his subjects to show off his new magical abilities. The Muggle tried to back out by saying he had to go out of town, and couldn't help him, but the King threatened to send the Brigade of Witch-Hunters after him, and if anyone laughed while the King was performing, the Muggle would be beheaded. The Muggle headed to Babbitty's house, where he spied on her, and found out that she was a real witch. He asked her to help him, or he'd expose her to the Muggles."
"Muggles," Jacob agreed, wide-eyed. "Bad king."
"Amused, Babbitty agreed to help out the poor Muggle King. He told Babbitty that she would hide in the bush the very next day, and make it seem as if the King himself could do magic. So Babbitty did that. While they performed the next day, the crowd was astonished by the disappearance of a hat and a levitating horse; then, one of the members of the brigade asked if the King could make his dead dog return to life. The King tried, but Babbitty did nothing, because she knew no magic that can raise the dead. The crowd laughed at the King, and the King wanted to know why the spell wasn't working. The Muggle King pointed to the bush, and said that a wicked witch was blocking them. Babbitty ran from the bush, and when the hounds chased after her she disappeared, leaving the dogs barking at a tree."
"Wic-wicked witch?" Jacob asked.
"It's just a story, dear," Molly assured him, and Jacob yawned and nodded. His eyes began to droop.
"The Muggle then told the crowd that Babbitty had turned into the tree, and that the tree must be cut down, because she was an "evil" witch. The crowd went wild, and the tree was cut down. As the crowd started to leave, they heard a cackling coming from the stump. Babbitty told the crowd that real wizards and witches cannot be cut in half, and that they should cut the Muggle in half to prove it. The Muggle confessed he was a fraud, and Babbitty told them that the King was cursed, and he'd feel an axe stroke every time a witch or wizard was harmed. So the King made a proclamation declaring that witches and wizards were protected and that they must not be harmed. Babbitty demanded a statue be built of herself, to remind everyone what had been decreed. The King promised it would be done, and erected a statue of her made of gold. Soon after, an old rabbit appeared out of a hole in the stump with a wand in its mouth, revealing that Babbitty has been hiding in her Animagus form, and she left the kingdom. Forever after, the statue of Babbitty remains on top of the stump, and no witch or wizard was ever hurt in that kingdom ever again.*"
Molly closed the book and placed it on the small nightstand near the lamp. She adjusted the sleeping boy's covers, and kissed his cheek. She dimmed the lamp, leaving just a dull glow for the boy, and quietly slipped out, leaving the door slightly ajar. "Oh, I hope he was asleep before the cutting people in half part," Molly whispered to herself. "What a ghastly story to tell a child! And to think, Ronald used to just love this?"
Downstairs, the clock ticked on.
Upstairs, Molly got ready for bed, humming softly to herself.
"How is he, then?" Arthur asked, studying a Muggle magazine on auto repair.
"Asleep," Molly replied curtly.
"Molly, I'm sorry, it's just that…the war and all…you know, we didn't ask the security question when I got home?" Arthur offered. "You might not even be who you say you are," he tried to tease her.
"I've been wondering the same about you all evening," Molly replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I mean, anyone who would charm an old Austin Healey Muggle auto to fly…"
"It was a Ford Anglia!" Arthur corrected her. "Good one, Mollywobbles!" He grinned.
"Well, at least we know who we say we are," Molly agreed, but when Arthur moved to touch her, she turned away. "If you wake up in the night, would you check on Jack?" She asked.
"Jacob," Arthur corrected her again. "Yes, dear," he sighed, turning off his lamp and deciding that now was not a good time to mention his suspicions about the boy.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Again, the Burrow was quiet.
Until three in the morning.
Screaming awoke Molly and Arthur, and Molly rushed to Jacob's room to find the boy standing on the bed, back to the corner, and waving his arms wildly as if fighting something off. The toy dragon was flying around his head, belching fire, and the bureau, rug, lamp, and nightstand were all whirling in the air. Molly tried to enter the room, dodging the lamp, which shattered against the wall. Jacob continued to scream as the bureau smashed through the window, falling three stories to shatter on the lawn.
Molly aimed her wand. "FINITE!" She shouted, and the rug and nightstand fell to the floor. The toy dragon landed on the bed and hid under the covers, and Jacob stood in the corner, wild-eyed and sweating, gasping for breath.
"What the devil?" Arthur wondered, standing with wand ready in the doorway.
Molly went to the boy and took him in her arms. "It's just a bad dream, Jacob," she assured him, trying to calm him down. "Arthur, go and get him a glass of warm milk with nutmeg," She ordered, finally pulling Jacob down. He let her hold him, shaking and sobbing.
"Mummy!" he wailed. "Mummmmmy!"
Arthur returned with the milk, and Molly got the boy to drink it, smoothing his hair and drying off his sweat-soaked sleeper and blankets with a charm. Arthur then repaired the lamp, replaced the rug, fixed the nightstand, and decided to worry about the bureau in the morning as he repaired the window.
"It's just random childhood magic," Molly assured them both. "Remember when Ronnie did that when he was four? Oh, it must have been that horrible story about Babbitty Rabbitty!" She fretted. "Arthur, see if you can find a copy of that Muggle fellow's stuff, Ditzey, is it? The one about the puppet who comes to life? Or the flying rhinoceros?"
Arthur rolled his eyes as Molly got Jacob tucked back into bed.
"Are you coming?" Arthur asked.
"Mummy, nohhhhh," Jacob whined, sitting up and refusing to let her go. He was still shaking. "Bad man, bad man," he kept repeating.
"It was the story," Molly assured her husband.
"Yes, dear," Arthur agreed with a sigh.
"I think I should stay for a bit," Molly nodded, and Jacob relaxed.
"All right," Arthur tried to keep his feelings out of his voice, but he failed. He awoke alone in their bed that morning. Molly's side was cool, meaning that she hadn't come back to bed. She'd stayed with Jacob. "'Mummy' indeed," he mumbled to himself, as he got ready for work. "I think I liked him better when he didn't talk!"
He found Molly already in the kitchen, fixing breakfast.
"Morning."
"Morning. What'r we havin', then?" Arthur asked.
"Spam and eggs with toast," Molly replied. "One of those Muggle things you like."
"Lovely," Arthur nodded. "So, are we going to encourage this 'mummy' thing?" He came right out and asked.
Molly turned on him, waving her spatula like a wand. She opened her mouth, but stopped. She took a deep breath. "He had a nightmare, and he wanted his mother. It's only instinct, to cry for your mother," she told him. "Besides, isn't it wonderful that he's talking?"
"Yes," Arthur had to agree, if only for the reason that it would make it easier to subtly interrogate Jacob later. He decided to change the subject. "So what are you doing today?"
"Taking him shopping," Molly answered, flipping some fried Spam at him. "He needs shoes and clothes and toys."
"Toys, Molly?" Jacob asked, toddling into the kitchen with a smile as if nothing at all had happened only a few hours ago. Molly's face fell; Arthur caught it, blinking at the garish sleeper. Jacob then attacked his breakfast, again carefully watching how Arthur used a knife and fork and napkin. When Arthur took a bite, so did the boy. When Arthur sipped his drink, Jacob imitated him.
When Arthur announced that he was leaving, Molly simply nodded and wished him a good day.
"I'll let you know if I find anything," He called back, on his way out the door.
"Bye!" Jacob waved, but Arthur didn't reply.
Molly sighed. "Now how am I going to dress you to take you shopping?" She asked Jacob.
Jacob picked at the front of his colorful sleeper. Molly laughed. "Of course! Am I a witch, or aren't I?"
Moments later, and she returned from Ron's room with his orange Chudley Cannons bedspread. She had Jacob take off his sleeper, then wrapped the boy in the comforter and aimed her wand at him. The result was an awful orange hoodie with a Chudley emblem, and she then transfigured his tunic into a pair of knee-length shorts. "Best we can do for now," she mused, nodding at the poor little waif. "Wish I hadn't burned those shoes," she added.
Jacob just laughed as she then tried to do something with his hair.
"Ginny!" She then exclaimed, and sure enough, there was a pair of forgotten pink trainers in her room. Molly was able to downsize them, but it appeared that Ginny had magically stuck the color.
"Ewww," Jacob declared of his new footwear.
"Have you ever been here before?" Molly asked the boy, as they emerged from the Floo of the Leaky Cauldron.
"No," the boy answered.
"Molly!" Hannah Abbott greeted them. "So nice to see you! Who's this?"
Molly introduced Jacob, and Hannah blinked. "Oh, my! Neville told me! This is the boy that Aberforth found?" She then offered him a fizzy drink, which Jacob accepted. He took a drink, then burped, which was enormously funny. Several other patrons just glared at them.
"Hannah, dear, shouldn't you be back in school?" Molly asked.
"I'm thinking about it, Ma'am, but I really have to work right now and make some money," Hannah confessed.
"Molly!" A old lady called out.
"Run for it!" Hannah hissed, intercepting Doris Crockford before she could corner Molly and the boy.
Their first stop was Gringotts, where Molly made a withdrawal. The Goblins still gave her odd looks, given the prior financial state of the Weasley family. However, George's deposits were formidable now, and with Goblins, that commanded some respect. Out of curiosity, Molly asked the Goblin who took them to their vault about the rumors of funds and estates that had been seized by the Ministry.
"It is tied up in probate, Madame Weasley," the Goblin answered.
"Ride! Ride!" Jacob laughed all the way, which brought a smile to even their host's face.
Their first priority was shoes, and Molly had an idea. They headed straight for George's shoppe, where George and Angelina (still basking in their honeymoon phase) were pleasantly surprised to meet their new little foster brother. George fitted him with de-charmed Snapping Socks, and a pair of Wallwalkers – high top trainers that were perfectly normal shoes, until you started trying to walk up a wall with them*. Jacob was delighted, either with the new shoes, or to be rid of the pink pair.
"I see we're starting him off right, with the Cannons shirt?" George wondered.
"It's a transfiguration, only temporary," Molly explained. "Oh, George, I'm afraid you father's not taking this well at all."
"How so?" George asked. "I've never known Dad to dislike a child?"
"He thinks the boy is the next Dark Lord, or something," Molly explained.
"I'd heard rumors that only the Slytherin kids were left at that shelter," George nodded. "But surely Dad understands that the child didn't do anything to anyone?"
Molly shook her head. "I'm afraid not. He's been harassing Mafalda Hopkirk for information on the boy, but no one knows who he is. He's just started talking, but I don't have the heart to try and get any information out of him." She smiled at her son, taking his arm as Jacob walked across the ceiling above them. "That means a great deal to me, George. I…I'm growing fond of him, you know."
"Give Dad some time, Mum," Angelina suggested. "What with the war, Ron being missing, Percy being…"
"Being Percy," George cut in.
Angelina nodded. "And not to mention Fred," she looked lovingly at George.
"Perhaps you're right, this was very sudden," Molly agreed somberly.
"We're doing our best to supply you with grandchildren, Mum, honestly," George then winked at her. "I keep putting the dough in the oven, but it just isn't baking!"
"GEORGE!" Angelina gasped, and they all laughed at that.
"Give Dad time, he'll come around," George assured his mother, when they were ready to leave, and Jacob had been thoroughly searched for any Wheezes that George might have planted on him.
As the boy had no need of formal wear, Molly took him to Gladrags where a young sales clerk, well versed in Muggle attire, managed to outfit the boy with several changes of fashionable clothes. Jacob showed that he was a typical boy in this respect, as the new clothes shopping soon lost its appeal and he was more than ready to leave when they were finally done.
Their next stop was Flourish & Blott's, where Jacob insisted on a copy of Fantastic Beasts….
"Can you read?" Molly asked him.
"No," Jacob replied, shrugging. "Pictures! Dragons!"
"Makes sense to me," Molly agreed, and she bought him the book, along with Darling Dragons. She also picked out a few more children's books that weren't nearly as scary bedtime reading, mainly from the Muggle section.
They went to Muggle Munchies for lunch, where Jacob was introduced to cheeseburgers and thin chips and more fizzy drinks. The place was crowded, and as he ate, Jacob seemed very interested in eavesdropping on the conversations of others. He didn't interrupt, but Molly had to wonder just how much of it the boy understood.
"I love you," a young man that Molly didn't know was saying to a pretty young lady at the next table.
"And I love you," she replied.
Molly turned the fascinated boy's head away as the young couple then kissed.
"You don't need to watch that," Molly informed him with a huff.
"Can we get some more catsup over here?" Another patron called to the server, holding up an empty bottle.
"Can we get some more…?" Jacob held up his last chip.
"Chips?" Molly asked.
"Can we get some more chips over here?" Jacob asked, and it was his first complete sentence.
"You're listening to them to learn?" Molly realized. "Did you not know how to talk before?"
"I talk…not lots. Nothing say," Jacob shook his head. "Scared."
"Did someone hurt you, Jacob? Is that really your name?" She gently pressed him, as their chips arrived and Jacob covered them in catsup and salt.
"My name," he nodded. "No hurt, just left me. No one come back. Left me. Found the…" he put his fists to his forehead and waggled two fingers.
"Goat?"
"Dumb-door's goat!" Jacob nodded, his mouth full of chips and food all over his face. His new real hoodie, a plain red one, had been thoroughly initiated and already needed washed. "Nice goat!"
"Jacob, what was your bad dream about?" Molly dared to ask him. "Last night?"
"Dream?"
"In your room, when you were asleep last night? And you got scared?" Molly prompted him.
Jacob's eyes went distant. "Cold. Them left me. Not come back. No one talk to. Scared, just me," he explained in broken language. "But me - has be …there, there, there," he pointed all around, seemingly not too upset again. "Molly, me here. You came, them left me."
"Jacob, who left you? Your parents?" She risked it. "Did they go away with some other people, a bad man maybe, and not come back?"
Jacob shrugged, suddenly more interested in the rest of his cheeseburger. "Don'know. Just left me."
Molly considered that the boy might well remember, and that he just didn't have the language skills to talk about it. She decided to consult with Felicia Thimblebrass if she could get the boy down for a nap later, although the dossier at shelter contained no information that they already didn't know.
Jacob was indeed a mystery, but at least he was slowly learning to talk.
For the rest of the day, Molly took him in and out of busy shops. And the more Jacob listened, the more he learned. There were late purchasers of Hogwarts supplies, some returns and exchanges, and many a haggard parent simply wanting a peaceful day off now that school had taken up again. There were no shortages of conversations to eavesdrop on, and it seemed that the more Jacob heard, the more he repeated in complete sentences.
"That will be ten Galleons and four Sickles, please," he parroted one clerk, who gave him a lollipop.
"What does that sign say?" Molly asked him, pointing at the WWW sign down the way a bit as they stopped at Fortescue's for ice cream.
Jacob studied it. He'd seen the word "wizard" all over the place, and Molly had pointed to the names on several of the new toys she'd bought him, spelling them out and then repeating them.
"W-wuh-el-zz-why WIZARD Whee-zees," He stammered, "Wizard Wheezes…" He looked at Molly. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" He blurted. He screwed up his face in concentration. "You George-Mum?" He asked. Molly nodded. "Your store!"
"Very good!" Molly clapped her hands. "You're a quick study! You might even be able to read you new book tonight!"
"My book?" He asked. "Your book?"
"It's your book, Jacob," Molly assured him. "You get to keep it for as long as you like."
"Mummy, I want nuts and a cherry," a small child was saying, and they turned to see a girl with blonde curly hair standing there at the counter pointing. She appeared to be the same age as Jacob. Her mother was looking very frazzled. Molly watched as Jacob studied them, taking in the holding of hands, how close they were standing, and the care with which the mother handed her child the treat and some napkins. As they sat at a nearby table to eat, Jacob turned to watch them and said, "Hello!"
Molly didn't know the lady, but smiled kindly.
"Hello!" the little girl replied. "I'm Dorothea Dixon. And you are?" She asked properly.
"Me? Jacob." Jacob answered.
"Jacob-what, then?" Dorothea asked, taking a lick of her ice cream. "My, aren't you messy?"
"Dorothy!" Her embarrassed mother gasped, smiling in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! She just calls it like she sees it!"
"Jacob," Jacob replied.
"You must have a last name, Jacob?" Dorothea persisted.
"Do I have …last… name, Mummy?" Jacob asked Molly.
Molly hesitated. Was he just parroting what he'd seen and heard? She thought about Arthur's question. 'Are we going to encourage this 'mummy' thing?' Or was the boy beginning to think of her as his mother?
"He's…we're fostering him, you see," Molly fumbled.
"Oh, you're a war orphan, then?" Dorothea asked.
"Dorothy! That's a horrible thing to ask!" Her mother exclaimed. "We don't say things like that!"
"What …orphan?" Jacob asked, confused.
"It means you have no mum and dad," Dorothea explained. "My aunt and uncle were killed in the war, you know," she added clinically.
"Precocious, isn't she?" Molly mumbled behind her hand.
Dorothea's shocked mother collected her at once, apologized profusely, and fled with the child in tow.
"Bye!" Jacob called after them.
"Jacob," Molly reminded him. "Do you know your last name, now that you're talking, that is? Could you not tell it to Miss Thimblebrass before?"
Jacob's eyes went distant again.
Molly tried a different approach. "Jacob, what is the first thing you remember? Think back to when you were little. A toy? A pet? Before you were at the shelter with the other children? Where did you used to live?"
"Fire," Jacob said flatly. "Man yelling." He then made a sound that Molly assumed meant an explosion, as the boy gestured with his arms over his head. "Fire, bad man yell."
"Jacob, do you remember what the man said?" Molly was almost afraid to ask.
Jacob nodded. "'Give me Harry Potter', he say."
Molly felt her heart sinking and a lump rising in her throat. She fought back a shiver as the enormity of it came to her.
Jacob had witnessed the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Come along now, Jacob," she pulled herself together. "It's getting on in the day, and you must be getting tired," she explained. "I need to speak with someone, now. We need to head back home."
"Home?" The boy asked.
"Where we came from," Molly clarified it. "The house?"
"Oh!"
They gathered up their many bags and headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. On the way to the Floo, however, they ran into a bushy-white-haired, disheveled old witch. "Molly, is that you?"
"Doris!" Molly exclaimed, "Doris Crockford! So good to see you're well!" Got to get away from this one, somehow, Molly thought.
"Well, now who's this little man?" Doris Crockford asked.
Jacob turned around and looked behind him.
"Hello, my name is Jacob!" He offered to Doris, when he realized that she meant him.
"This is our…I mean, Arthur and I are fostering him, he's…he's Jacob," Molly shook her head and blinked. "I'm sorry Doris, we were just leaving. I'm not feeling well, and a bit distracted. I think we both need a nap!" She laughed, hoping it sounded sincere.
"I see," Doris nodded, "Word about is that there are several children being seen to by the Ministry, what with the war and all?" She hinted. "OH, and Harry's a teacher now? Hannah says he's quiet taken with your Ginny!"
"Yes, yes," Molly agreed, as Hannah activated the Floo for her.
"Why don't you have one on me, Doris? Just a quick one?" Hannah asked, sensing Molly's urgency.
"Me war orphan," Jacob supplied helpfully.
"No, you're not," Molly corrected him, steering him towards the Floo. "And we say "I"."
"Wha's'a'wrong, Mummy?" Jacob asked, as Molly shoved him into the green flames.
"Come along, Doris," Hannah reminded the old lady.
Back at the Burrow, Molly and Jacob unloaded their many Expandable Bags. With a sigh, Molly decided to sort it all out later as she got Jacob out of his stained clothing and back into his sleeper. One fabric freshening charm later, and she'd convinced the boy to lie down on the sofa for a nap. As always, her instinct proved correct: Jacob was tired, his belly was full, and all the excitement had worn him out. He was asleep in minutes.
Molly went to the Floo and put up a Muffliato charm. She called the Burbage Shelter.
"Hello?" Felicia Thimblebrass answered, sounding tired. "Molly! Is something wrong?"
"No, not really…maybe," Molly began, as she gave Felicia a quick rundown on the day's and night's events. They talked for over an hour. "Felicia," she concluded, "I think Jacob was there, and saw the Battle."
"So he's talking? And his real name is Jacob?" Felicia repeated happily. "And he's even recognizing words on signs? Molly, you are a miracle worker!"
"I don't think so, Felicia, he's a very smart boy. You can see that," Molly disagreed.
"To be honest, we thought he was…defective," Felicia fudged. "All summer long, not a peep out of him. And now he's putting together sentences, just from listening to people talk?"
"Did anyone really talk to him there?" Molly countered.
"Well, no," Felicia admitted. "The children here aren't the most talkative lot." She paused. "He says he can't remember anything from before Aberforth's? From before…the Battle?"
"Not even his own last name," Molly shook her head. "I think this explains the nightmares, though. Perhaps he's blocking it out?"
"He thinks he heard the Dark Lord?" Felicia repeated.
"Word for word, we all heard it," Molly confirmed. "'Give me Harry Potter'. And he says his first memory is of fire."
"That poor child," Felicia sniffled. "Oh, Molly, I'm so glad it was your family that took him."
Molly hesitated. Did she want to tell Felicia about Arthur's feelings on the matter or not? If she did, would Felicia then insist that Jacob be given back to them? She changed tracks.
"Arthur's looking into the matter at the Ministry," Molly explained, "And Poppy got them a DNA sample for genetic testing, some Muggle method, to try and determine who he is. I…I'm afraid he sort of hit his head on the door last night, and we had to call her!"
"Boys do that," Felicia shrugged it off. "If you'll excuse me, I have to see to Cameron, Avery that is. His cousin arrived at Hogwarts last night, Ravenclaw I think it was, and he's quite upset that he can't go back too. Oh, he does thank you for the jumper and the cap though! I almost forgot!"
"The boy I met playing chess? Is he all right?" Molly asked. "Thought he was old enough for Hogwarts."
"No, Molly, he's not all right. He wasn't the best student last year, before…the war, and well, the Carrows punished him for it, Slytherin or not. Something about setting a better example, being the best, all that rubbish? Molly, I don't mean to trouble you with it. It's just that…the poor boy's only just turned twelve, and I think…he needs help, help that we can't give him here. We…I'm just not equipped for it. I must go! Goodbye!"
She closed the connection.
Molly looked at the little boy sleeping on the sofa, and decided to give him an even two hours.
Once again, the Burrow was quiet as Molly sat and just listened to the clock tick.
She put on a load of laundry when Jacob woke up, having dressed him in his new clothes. Jacob then set about sorting his new toys. His favorite, by far, was the kit of brightly colored building blocks that were charmed to not fall down – no matter how crazy of a structure the child tried to build. His toy dragon sat on his shoulder the whole time, watching.
Before they knew it, Arthur was home. A louder than average CRACK! outside announced his arrival, and Molly saw him from the window coming from the largest shed. He was looking all around, securing the doors.
"Well, how was the shopping?" He greeted them jovially, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Where's the boy?"
"Fine," Molly replied, giving him a look. "What's in the shed? They heard that bang all the way to the Lovegoods'!"
"The boy?" Arthur tried to remain patient.
"In the sitting room, playing with his new toys," Molly replied. "The shed, Arthur?"
"Nothing, dear, nothing at all," Arthur answered quickly, which was a dead giveaway that there was something in the shed.
"Mummy, see!" Jacob called, and Arthur snorted, but Molly ignored him and went.
"ARTHUR! Come and see this! Quickly!" Molly called.
Arthur jumped up and ran into the sitting room, but stopped when he saw a model of what looked like a miniature of Hogwarts gone bad in neon colors. Jacob was standing next to a large round can that was half as big as he was, and it was labeled "Neverending Building Blocks."
"Isn't it genius?" Molly complimented the boy, "And when you put them away, the replicated ones vanish so they all go back in the can!"
"How does he know what Hogwarts looks like?" Arthur asked.
"Later," Molly hissed at him. "You won't believe how many words he's picked up today!"
"Hog-wurts, Dad?" Jacob asked.
"You can just call me 'Arthur', all right, boy?" Arthur replied uncomfortably, "And I really think those toys belong up in your room, don't you?"
"His name is Jacob," Molly said in a low tone.
Jacob just stood there, mouth still open. Slowly, he nodded. "OK."
"You've been having him call you 'mummy' all day, haven't you?" Arthur asked.
Molly glared at him, ushering him back into the kitchen.
"Can you please not talk like that in front of him?" Molly suggested.
"One of us will fall over those things and break a leg!" Arthur protested. "And instinct? What about that? A bad dream, you said?"
"Did you have to snap at him like that?" Molly repeated. "For Merlin's sake, he's talking! Don't you go and shut him down again!"
"I am not his dad," Arthur informed her flatly. "He's a visitor, that's all, until we can find out who his family is. If we get so attached to him, we're only setting ourselves up to be hurt!"
Molly huffed. "So what did you find out at work? Wait, let me guess," she held him off. "He's Voldemort's illegitimate lovechild with Bellatrix LeStrange?"
"That's not even funny, Molly," Arthur gaped at her. "In fact, I didn't find out a thing. With the Ministry just now gearing back up, aside from the Aurors chasing old Death Eaters, things are chaotic. Departments are all backed up from the Hogwarts repairs, and the Muggle world took damage, too, you know. They say it could be months before we know anything from his blood tests. The Wizengamot's up to its arses in work, and Kingsley can't even answer a memo!"
"And Mafalda?" Molly hinted, her voice dangerous again.
"She's identified every single child in the shelter as either the offspring of, or related to, some rather famous names," Arthur informed her. "Some of them were pretty easy, like the Avery boy. Others, like Gibbon, Jugson, Rossier, Warrington, Mulciber – the usual suspects."
"The usual children," Molly corrected him. "But nothing on Jacob?"
"She's still digging through files and photos," Arthur informed her.
CLATTER!
Molly and Arthur both dashed into the sitting room to find colored blocks everywhere. Literally. The model of Hogwarts was missing its Astronomy Tower, and both of them flinched. "BEGIN!" Jacob yelled. "Fire!" He then kicked the front doors down, and the blocks flew, replicating in a string of miniature Gemino effects. "Give me Harry Potter!" He said, a stroke of his arm shearing away Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers.
"Wh-where did he hear that?" Arthur gasped, pulling Molly back into the kitchen as Jacob thoroughly demolished his version of Hogwarts.
"That's what I was trying to tell you, before you had him shipped off to Azakaban!" Molly snapped at him. "Once he started talking, he said some things. I've called Felicia, and we agree – the only way he could know, and if Aberforth found him the next night, was if he was there! Arthur," she sniffed, fighting back tears as her face contorted with the memories of it all, "Jacob was there! He saw it all!"
"Oh, Merlin," Arthur sighed, and Molly collapsed into his arms, losing her battle. "Good grief, it's no wonder he wouldn't talk. It must have been…OUCH!" Arthur shouted, as Jacob had landed a good kick to his shin! "What the…?!" He spun Molly around behind himself. "Where did he get a wand?!" Arthur pushed her back, and with a practiced hand, drew his. "EXPELLIARMUS!"
Nothing happened.
Jacob stood his ground, the toy wand's tip glowing brightly. He pointed it at Arthur.
"PROTEGO!" Arthur shouted.
"PELL-I-AM-RUS!" Jacob yelled back, and Arthur's wand flew out of his hand towards the boy. Jacob caught it. "MUMMY?!" He yelled.
"It's one of George's toy wands, Arthur! All it does is light up! I got it for him in case he got scared at night, in the dark!" Molly explained.
"Well I didn't just toss my wand at him!" Arthur disagreed, rubbing his shin. "You sure he didn't lift one from Ollie's?"
"Oh, so now he's a thief, too?" Molly retorted hotly.
They all looked at one another.
"Toy wand?" Arthur asked again.
"Welllll?" Molly offered, genuinely confused. "Give that back to Arthur, Jacob, it's all right."
"Bad man!" Jacob protested, aiming at Arthur again – with his own real wand, no less!
"No, no! He wasn't trying to hurt me! He was holding me!" Molly explained.
"Mummy cry," Jacob shook his head.
"She…she was crying…about you," Arthur fumbled, "About what you did…what you saw? When you said 'fire'? Jacob, when you broke your castle, you upset her!"
Jacob's face fell and he slumped, staring down at his new shoes. "Me make Mummy cry?"
"Yes, but it's all right, dear," Molly cut in quickly. "Now give Arthur his wand back, all right? There's nothing wrong. It's OK."
"Not Ar-tur? Me?" Jacob leaned against the doorframe. He dropped the wands. Very carefully, Arthur retrieved his. Jacob started to cry. He slid down to sit on the floor, rocking and whimpering. "No leave me, no leave me, no leave me," he began to chant.
Molly moved forward, but Arthur stopped her. He bent down and gathered up the trembling boy. Jacob struggled at first, then he collapsed into Arthur's shoulder, sobbing "Sorry, sorry, sorry…"
Molly just stared in confusion.
"You know, that was some pretty good magic, Jacob," Arthur observed. "What with a toy wand and all?"
Jacob stopped crying long enough to pull back a bit and face him. "Me, wizard?" He asked.
"I think so, yes," Arthur agreed, although a bit nervously. "Let's have a look, shall we?"
He flicked the toy wand at the table. "Wingardium Leviohsa!"
Nothing happened.
"Lumos!"
The toy wand lit up.
"Molly, duel please?" He then asked.
"Expelliarmus!" Molly said. The toy wand remained in Arthur's hand. They tried a few more Spells.
The toy wand did nothing for Arthur but for lighting up.
"See, no harm done, except for my shin," Arthur explained.
"Sorry," Jacob repeated, wiping at his face with his sleeve.
"Tell you what," Arthur said, "You go and pick up those toys, and then we'll take the new things up to your room and help you move in properly, all right?" He put the boy down, and Jacob ran to get his things.
"What just happened?" Molly wondered. "Shouldn't we be getting a warning owl about now?"
Arthur shook his head. "No, he's too little," he decided, "And they crossed us off that list long ago, remember?"
"Then how did he do it?" Molly asked in reply, still looking shocked.
"I have no idea, dear, but I'm taking that toy wand in to work to have it checked, then I'm going to talk to George. In the meantime, I think you need to keep a close eye on the boy. Something isn't right here, and he could …hurt himself," he finally added, nodding. "We…we'd best keep him for a bit, don't you think? For…ah…security reasons? What with him being an unknown? If he saw…" Arthur shook his head. "Gods, that explains a lot!"
"So you mean we can…"
"If anyone finds out about this," Arthur cut her off, "The boy would be in danger. That was just the type of thing that would be sure to bring someone …unsavory…out of the woodwork looking for him, I wonder?" He thought for a bit. "Jacob will be safest here, with us."
"Oh, Arthur!" Molly cried happily, and she embraced him, kissing him, as what had come between them in the past few days was…
…was standing in the doorway watching!
"You don't need to watch that!" Jacob declared, turning his head.
wiki/Babbitty_Rabbitty_and_her_Cackling_Stump - paraphrased. Full credit to JKR and the author of the HP wiki page. I did not come up with this bit!*
*The wall-walking sneakers/trainers are seen in the HBP (6) film.