Word count: 421
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: History of Magic Assignment #9 – Time Period Task - Write story taking place during Voldemort's first reign of terror.
Ultimate Chocolate Frog Card Club: (Gold) Molly Weasley – Write about Molly Weasley.
"Mummy," a little red-headed boy sauntered down the stairs of the Burrow and stopped right in front of his mother, who was still cleaning up the dishes, "is Daddy home yet?"
"No, Bill, he's still at work," Molly answered, glancing at the clock that still had one of its hour hands on the little 'Work' sign. "You should go back to your room and sleep; I promise you that he'll be back by morning."
"But what if he gets captured by those… bad guys? With the black cloaks and scary masks, I mean," Bill said, worry evident in his tone. "I don't want Daddy to die."
"He won't die," Molly shook her head, cradling the seven-year-old boy in her arms after stopping the running water of the sink. "Death Eaters wouldn't attack us."
"Why wouldn't they? Uncle Gideon told me that they'd do anything to stop our kind," Bill argued.
"Because…" Molly trailed off. She could never be sure that Arthur wouldn't get attacked, not at times like this, not in the middle of a war, but she would go to greater lengths to convince her children that everything's going to be alright. They needed more protection than she did; they didn't need to know about how hopeless the future seemed for wizardkind. "Because they attack non-magic folks. They think that we, wizards and witches are better because we have magic, but of course, they're wrong."
"So we're safe because we can do magic?" Bill furrowed his eyebrows. "But that doesn't make sense. Aren't muggles supposed to be the same as us, just without magic?"
"Yes, they are," Molly nodded, a small smile playing on her lips, which morphed into a much more serious expression a moment later, "but some people think otherwise. And that's what your Uncle Gideon, among others, is fighting against."
"Doesn't that make them targets, though?" Bill asked. "The bad guys would surely want to hurt whoever's against them, right?"
"They can defend themselves; you shouldn't worry about it, dear," Molly soothed the boy. "Now go and sleep, okay?"
Bill sighed. "Okay… But promise me that Daddy will be fine, okay?"
"I promise," Molly said, putting her son down the floor. Soon, the boy was out of her sight, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom.
She glanced at the magical clock again, which still had one of its hands pointed at the 'Work' sign. She sighed exasperatedly, turning back to the sink to continue washing up. It was going to a long night, she supposed.