Written for the Modly Comp at the HPFC!
House: Gryffindor
Round: 4
Wand: N/A
Task: Option C: "You fail miserably, and manage to accidentally cast an Incendio charm, setting Professor Allie's hair on fire. She's mad, your classmates are mad, and you're disappointed. Your first day in class, the new kid, and you've already managed to mess up! Your Task: Write an angst fic. As long as it's angsty angst angst, anything goes. Stipulation: If choosing this option, PM Professor Allie for prompts so that you can clean up the mess you made! You will receive five prompts and must use three of them."
prompts: time, forget, stranger.
Words: 1406
Score: Please PM me with a score for each category.
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She is Roxanne Weasley, caramel-haired and copper-skinned, her eyes like molten chocolate. When she sits down on the rickety old stool, her eyes shine with excitement, rather than the nervousness that everyone else's hold.
Roxanne's every moment is spent looking for the rolling hills, vast oceans with the wavering ships that sailed their waters, and the knight clad in shining armor; the things of stories so often told she could recite them by heart. So convinced of their unquestionable existence, Roxanne bristles when one of her cousins challenges them. Her defence never wavers from its riled stance: "You're magical, you're the pinnacle of myths, you're related to the very man who defied death itself, yet you refuse to believe that there are such things as pirates and happily ever after?"
No one is surprised at the great hat's decision. It opens its lips, nothing but a tear in the fabric, and screams for even those as far as the great bronze doors to hear, "GRYFFINDOR!"
.
She is Molly Weasley, clumsy and awkward, thin and scrawny like a withered bird. Her mousy brown hair falls in her eyes and over her gawky glasses. Always tucked away in an abandoned corner of the library, nose stuck in a book and toes gripping the seat of the chair. No one speaks to her much, and that is how she likes it. She has been quiet and reserved since the very second her eyes fluttered open.
Every moment is spent with a book in one hand and a quill and parchment in the other. Molly cautiously obeys her father and the words that he fall from his thin lips with a tone like rope pulled too tight. Her expression appeared blank and she seemed lost for words whenever someone did make the effort to coax some words out of her. They never came and eventually everyone gave up.
Except for Roxanne.
Her soft tones would guide her hand across the page and slow her erratic breathing whenever she became overwhelmed. Her hand slipped into Molly's for comfort. Roxanne was never the one who needed it.
Roxanne stood up when the Hat called out her House, beaming and clapping enthusiastically with the rest of the them. Molly let out a gasping breath that everyone mistook for joy.
"RAVENCLAW!"
When Molly began trembling and her breath tumbled past her lips, she didn't feel the warmth of Roxanne's hand in hers or the gentle sounds of her nameless song. Even as all of the students, clad in blue and silver and glowing smiles, welcome her with open arms, Molly has never felt so alone in her life.
.
In the years to follow, Molly becomes a stranger to her own family as they find their own. Some follow the tradition and don scarlet and gold. Whistles sound throughout the hall. Proud smiles greet those who sit at the spot where their mothers and fathers had sat before them. Others garner gasps and stunned silence as they join the sea of silver and green and some skitter over to the mass of gold and black with averted gazes and masks of happiness. A few students give them reassuring pats on the back and comforting smiles, and whisper words into their ears that Molly could never know.
Molly stands up with the others when those who have proven themselves to be of Ravenclaw material join the ranks of all the rest. The others, her supposed family, stand with straight backs and rigid smiles as they greet the newcomers. Molly only sighs and issues them a bored, "Welcome."
She doesn't catch the grins that the honey-filled Gryffindor sends her from across the Hall. The distance between them might as well be an ocean, but Molly still feels the warmth of her soft gaze and glowing smile. Even time could not shatter their bond.
.
After years of shutting herself away, Molly finally gets her wish. Everyone leaves her to the scratches of her quill against the parchment. To the shadowy corners that only she knows of. To her books and lonely words that comfort her.
The only one that doesn't abandon her is Roxanne. The sweet sound of her voice dances in the air with the scratches. Her fingers taps on the wooden surface of the table. It burrows under her skin and crawls underneath her flesh, sending shivers down her spine. Still, she says nothing.
The smile that crosses her lips isn't missed.
.
They've been through exams, boys, more exams, and skepticism from those of their Houses about their friendship but still they are, as their Grandmother puts it, close as a needle and thread. Roxanne still laces their fingers together when everyone is looking and when everyone is not. Molly lets her.
Even when she leans over to her during study hall and whispers sweet melodies of myths and monsters slayed by the heroes. Or maybe it is a story, and every word that falls from her lips sounds like those of a song. Molly cares of neither. All she pays mind to is the way her lips press flush against her cheek after the very last word and the hands that slips into hers as Roxanne turns back to her homework.
.
It rains on the day of their leaving. The grass is slick with wetness and the lake looks like a raging sea, but Roxanne still manages to coax Molly outside. She stands knee deep in the water with the hem of her skirt brushing the surface. Her head is tilted toward the sky and her arms are held away from her sides like a bird about to take flight. Molly stands awkwardly on the edge of the water, squinting to even make out her figure.
When arms wrap around her waist and there is a warmness ghosting across her lips, Molly isn't hesitant to react. The warmth of Roxanne's lips spread throughout her body. Molly feels it from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. The rain is no longer cold and the water falls still around her calves.
She feels the tickle in her stomach and that is when Roxanne pulls away.
.
It is years after that day when Molly finally sees Roxanne again.
The flat feels damp and cold with the first rainstorm in weeks pounding against the windows. Rose had moved out the past week and found a place with Scorpius. Lily moved out a few days after that. The flat is oddly empty without them there, and Molly is reminded of how much she enjoyed their company.
When the knock comes at the door, Molly is hesitant to answer it. The blankets are wrapped snug around her and a book sits in her lap. With a sigh, she untangles herself and heads for the door. The final lock opens with a click and the knob turns with a great creak. The door swings open with a sharp squeak to reveal a drenched Roxanne. Her hair falls limp around her shoulders and her clothes cling to her skin. She is shivering like a leaf in the wind.
Without a second thought, Molly ushers her in.
Roxanne slumps in the kitchen chair as Molly readies some tea. She wraps a blanket around her shuddering shoulders before the scream reverberates through the air. A sigh tumbles past Roxanne's lips when Molly hands her the cup.
When she is finally able to speak without her teeth chattering uncontrollably, Roxanne tells Molly the story. Of smacks and punches given to her by her boyfriend. Jeering and laughs when he did it in front of his friends. And how she could never tell the family for fear of them laughing at her, too.
Throughout the story Molly's vision begins to blur. The watery-blue irises glisten with tears that swiftly run down her cheeks. While the last words of how Roxanne finally decided to come to her talks past her lips, Molly embraces her, caring little about how wet and cold she is.
Roxanne melts into the hug and they sit there for what feels like several hundred years. Molly finally pulls away and wipes away her own tears in addition to the ones that roll down Roxanne's face. This time, she is the one to comfort Roxanne.
The kiss is like a defibrillator to her life since Roxanne left and Molly forgets how to breathe.
She doesn't mind all that much.