Family Ties
By Chibi Tears of Pain
"Where do you need me, Poppy?"
The medi-witch looked up, and Molly could not help grimacing in sympathy for the hassled healer. Greying hair had slipped out of its normally loose, but effective bun until most of it draped down her neck, sticking to it with sweat. There were large shadows under her blood shot eyes and her eyelids were drooping – a sign of lack of sleep and exhaustion; she had been working non-stop probably the entire night. Poppy Pomfrey's once pristine white apron was covered in… many things which Molly could not identify and sagged against the figure it had once snugly fit.
'It seems the war has affected us all…'
"Well?" Molly prompted, startling Poppy out of her confused daze, "What do you need help with?"
Poppy sighed and Molly felt a sense of foreboding well within her gut as the healer wearily shook her head.
"It doesn't matter where you help out Molly, everyone needs it – this place it total chaos, everywhere there's someone who thinks they're the next minister, ready to lead the Wizarding people out of tragedy, and they try to organise others into groups to do this and groups to do that which ends up contradicting the previous ego-bloated asshole who tried to do the same thing – and yet none of them ever think to assign people to the hospital!" Her voice had deepened as it descended into a rant, hitting a shrill note every now and again that made Molly wince. Pausing at the end, she took a few calming breaths, forceful at first, then they came more naturally; her righteous anger was gone, leaving only a weary and exhausted school nurse. "The healers from Saint Mungo's Floo'd in some time ago and even then it was only half the staff – You-Know-Who had orchestrated multiple attacks last night and injured are pouring in over there by the dozens."
Molly watched as the tired woman turned her back to her and waddle-limped towards the nearest bed with a man who was just waking up, only to find that when he moved, he was missing one arm and merely had a stump for the other.
As Molly watched Poppy try and calm the now panicking man, she started to breath in deeply – she needed the air because it was as if some thing had been sharply and painfully torn out of her chest and her lungs felt the need to make up for the missing space. Then as she smelt the air – the smell of old blood and musky bed sheets assaulted her nose and her ribs then felt as if they were trying to squeeze all those 'needed' breaths back out - to get rid of the awful stench which permeated through the air.
She had headed here to the ever organised – yet not today, it would seem – witch so she would be able to do something constructive to help. If there was ever an action that Molly hated more than that which displays superiority is that which is useless – because if you're not helping clean up, then you're just adding to the mess.
She found herself think rapidly of the place that had the most wounded as she spun sharply on her heels, the place she could be of most assistance, a place where her contribution could truly change something…
And Molly strode out of the Hospital Wing, trying not to look up - if she did she would see someone who she could help and she would then – she wished there was a better word – waste time helping them when there were others in more life threatening situations. She was useless here.
And if there was one thing Molly hated it was feeling useless.
--
"Molly! Molly?! Boys?! Is anybody ho-"
"Dad!"
Quite suddenly Arthur found himself sitting on the welcome rug with a lapful of Percy (who could out run his brothers if need be) and the trample of booted Erumpents was rapidly closing in on them both. Looking up from the four-year-old in his lap, he took in the clearly relieved expressions of his two oldest children, and then blinked.
"What are you wearing?"
Dressed in a worn, wrinkled and obviously still damp bath towel, Bill blushed scarlet; his face tried to blend into his hair but only managed to clash with the lilac and peach striped waistcoat that looked as if it would fit Hagrid, though the design screamed Dumbledore. Then, to top it all, on his feet were Arthur's oversized and paint-stained Wellies, which he had been pretty sure he had lost to the pond mud not a month before.
There was the squeak of wet rubber bottomed shoes on dry wooden floors.
Transferring his gaze to a sheepish looking Charlie, Arthur felt like his eyebrows would threaten to rip skin should they attempt to rise any higher.
'Ah…so those were the boots lost to the mud.'
It seemed that Charlie was dressed even more outlandish than his brother. A pink woollen muffler (which he had given Molly back in seventh year) was rapped around his head like a turban, and … oh Merlin, please don't tell me that's Molly's dressing gown – but it was. The fluffy sky coloured material was secured with a single – 'no … not my duck tie' – piece of fabric tied at his waist. The dressing gown was bunched at his shoulders from him trying to pull on his own – 'thank Merlin' - rain jacket. In all, he was quite a sight to behold – the bright pink turban occasionally snuggled its self to Charlie's head, clashing horribly with his still bed matted hair, then there was what looked like the most uncomfortable jacket combination – Arthur dazedly watched cloud wander though the bunched cloth at the boys shoulder – that led to bare, skinny legs (implying Charlie didn't have anything on underneath) which were swallowed up by mud covered boots. Arthur's tie 'quacked' at him.
Looking down at his lap Arthur was comforted to see that Percy, while wearing his dungarees inside out and over his night shirt, was still relatively civilized.
"Just what have you boys been up to?!"
"Well, you see…" Only Bill never got to finish, because at that moment there was a loud metallic 'clang' that resounded through the house.
--
The sun, having sensed the violence was over, crept out from behind the clouds, its light danced over Hogwarts Castle and grounds; a sweet caress of joy and relief.
Hogwarts was masterfully built; its position and rooms perfectly placed. Some rooms were placed under certain constellations, and there is a room that always changes position so that it faces the incoming wind. Some rooms correspond to the earth, but these are all on a sub-basement level that has lost since 1602. The room that was compatible to the lake was turned into the Slytherin Common Room, and there is only one person who might know where the old dorms are located; he just killed the only person who could access them. There is no Room of Fire, because a wooden room that was always on fire was too dangerous to keep in a school, no matter how many safety charms, so feeling slighted, Godric Gryffindor built the Room of Requirement.
But the most masterly and undisputed beautiful architectural feat was the stain glass windows at the end of the great hall. They look out over the coast and when the sun rises and hits the water it reflects onto the stain glass, and the great hall glows. All shades of red, blue, green and yellow flow through the room, bathing everything in a shower of colours.
But not even the light could redeem such an ugly sight that greeted Molly when she ploughed into the hall.
--
Arthur ran into the sitting room, the boys hot on his heals. When he stopped dead, Charlie and Bill barley had time to move to stand at his sides, leaving Percy to run straight into his father's knees. Arthur barley moved from the collision, he stood stone still as he viewed the living room.
Bill decided it was time to try and salvage the situation.
"Well, you see… this day needed celebratin' and there's no better way to celebrate than the circus…" He trailed off when Arthur gave no signs of having heard.
The awkward silence continued until Arthur numbly broke it.
"…a circus?..." he ventured blindly.
This was all the encouragement Charlie needed as he began to excitedly go over their 'celebration.' "Yup! We were just feedin' Fred and George when the wireless said it was a day to be celebratin' and that You-Know ain't here no more and so last time something big happened you tooked us to the muggle circus and so this time the muggle circus came to us!"
"…is that right?" Arthur was obviously still over whelmed, he felt as if he was missing something very important that happened, and so he prompted his sons to reveal such a secret.
Taking his frozen expression as a sign he was not mad, Charlie continued. "Of course! So first we needed a magician, and that's me, and Percy is my assistant. Then we needed clowns – cause you can't have a circus without clowns, so we made Fred and George be 'em!"
Looking at the lipstick covered faces of his eldest twins who were sitting on the couch, Arthur had to agree; they had certainly made them clowns. "…And the pots?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Well, we needed a drum role for the lion tamer – that's Bill, by the way – and I couldn't do it 'cause I have to introduce him and Percy is too unin-uninpertantit, well he just wasn't right for the job so we made the twins do it." And as if to prove this, one of them started to smack the bottom of Molly's favourite cast iron pot while the other –having thrown his on the floor – looked on jealously.
--
Rows of bodies ran down the entire hall. Some were placed delicately, their limbs arranged with care – they looked as if they were sleeping peacefully. The others were strewn about as if the were roughly thrown, at interval there were two or three bodies piled on top of each other. The air was heavy – suffocating the living with the fumes of rotting flesh and still blood. And in between two rows that were the estimated center of the room was a small crowd.
'Merlin, Poppy was right,' was Molly's only thought as she viewed the chambers occupants.
There was a portly little man standing in the center of a crowd of at least sixteen self-important looking people. He was wearing a too large, yellow and red pinstriped night shirt that was sloppily held on him by a tightly buckled brown leather belt, one that threatened to give way every time the man wildly waved his arms to emphasize a point he loudly ranting upon. There was a scarlet tie around his neck - it was untied but wrinkled, as if some had tried repeatedly, and failed, to correctly tie the Windsor knot. His red face was rapidly approaching a shade of purple, but he continued to talk – or loudly spew – to the men around him.
"- and I want McGonway to gather up the people here and take them to the ministry. There is a Wizengamot meeting scheduled for three today and I refuse to let it pass unattended. Now there are serious repairs needed to council room five – that's where we'll have it held," he held his hand up in a placating motion towards his small crowd, "I know it's small and not up to the calibre of room sixteen, but we all have to make sacrifices in the immediate aftermath of the war. Now, since McGonway will be at the ministry doing repairs, Michaels, I want you to start owling the Wizengamot members – Amberstein will give you a list of all the regular attendee's and the agenda of today's session…" And as the little man spoke, his crowd nodded as if in awe and this gave the man more confidence, making his movements more exaggerated and full of enthusiasm. In his excitement, he made a large gesture that encompassed both this arms and made them follow a complex movement that threatened to topple him over. To regain his balance he took a step back, and when he placed his foot down there was a nauseating crack, quiet, but somehow it echoing through the Great hall, churning stomachs and abruptly silencing the man. It was also the sound that sealed his fate, something he didn't realise, yet such ignorance could not stop the sense of apprehension that rang through his body – something that all men felt when they saw a red faced Molly Weasley charging towards them.
--
Arthur sighed as he tried, in vain, to wipe the last of the lipstick off one of the older twins. It was hopeless, cheap as the brand maybe, it was long lasting and durable – perfect for a mother of five boys, Molly had said – and to top things off, there had been a lot put on. He pulled the boy out of the bath tub, careful to not drip any water on himself despite the child's attempts otherwise – it was a move that was fluid with the ease of much experience. Placing the boy – who he suspected was Fred – on a changing table, he went to collect George out of the tub. Both he and Molly had learned early on that the boys did not like to be separated by so much as a wall – the punishment for attempting such a separation be bleeding from the ear (while one can not yell that loud, combined they can make a screech that even the Diggory's would be able to hear, as far away as they were).
And so, washed and dressed (properly) he carried the twins into the kitchen (walking down those demanding stairs took awhile with the fussing toddlers) were he was greeted by a suitably dressed Bill and Charlie, both busy eating a sandwich, which, according to the mess of knives, jars and plates on the counters, was a mixture of peanut butter, honey, cheese and … pickles?
Arthur decided it was better if he did not ask…or wonder…or even - he cringed as Bill took a large mouth filling bite out of the…concoction – observe.
Right then, both Fred and George were given spoons and bowls of yogurt – their favourite food of the week. Percy was eating a bowl of cereal, and both Ronald and Rowland were set up with a bottle of milk. In all Arthur believed he did alright – all the boys were alive, dressed and fed.
Yet there was no Molly.
He had rushed home after battling through one of the smaller skirmishes that had taken hold of Diagon Alley – the old Weasley luck pulling him through with barley a scratch – only to find that Hogwarts had been attacked, You-Know-Who vanquished, and his wife – he strongly suspected – had gone to help 'clean-up' the remains.
She never could stand disarray, he thought pitifully as he trained his eyes onto the counter. Might as well get crackin' then, and Arthur tiredly got up to start on the chaos that had taken the kitchen counter hostage.
TBC…