Lessons
When Percy was two, Molly had gone to the hospital and given birth to two twins, of whom she named Fred and George. Arthur hadn't been there, of course, because he was working. She had looked at her two small sons and concluded that they looked very small and precious. When Arthur had come later that day, Molly was holding one in each arm, lying on the bed, craving for a slice of cake. Arthur had taken one, and asked how in the world they would tell them apart. Molly had said that perhaps they wouldn't be identical twins and as they grew older, they would look incredibly different and all would be well. Arthur had sighed and commented that if that didn't happen, he would never be able to tell them apart and forever call them by the wrong name.
It was a bit of a nasty shock for Percy when he had to move into another room so that his two new younger brothers could sleep side by side. Molly wanted seperate cribs, but Arthur said that cribs these days were very expensive. So, Fred and George slept in the same cribs that all of their brothers (with the exception of Bill) had slept in. Bill had smiled at his two younger brothers when they came home and said that he could tell them apart already. Arthur had given a halfhearted laugh and had written "George" on one side of the crib and "Fred" on the other, so Molly would know where to put which twin so that he would know which was which. Molly had said that as a father, he should be able to tell which one was Fred and which was George and needn't label the crib. Arthur had sighed and told her to tell Percy to stop pestering Bill to read to him.
And so, after a few months of adjusting to Fred and George, things returned to almost normal because things could never really truly be normal in a Weasley household. What, with five small children and all, it's hard to be semi-normal. But, they got by. Gringott's was beginning to get to know them by their almost late payments and so was Seth, who got a letter now and then, asking for a little money for Christmas or a birthday, or for just a house payment. With Bill always trying to make his little brothers behave and his little brothers always trying to purposely defy him, things were never really at peace. Someone was always screaming, or crying or wailing or whimpering or asking for food or books or toys or a bath or a change. And just when Molly almost though to complain, she stopped herself, because she knew that she wouldn't change anything in her life for the world.
One day, Molly held little George on her lap while little Fred sat in his high chair, clanging a spoon on his tray. It was late, and suddenly Molly heard the clock chime midnight. It was customary that her two twins were up at midnight because they were always up when she needed to sleep and asleep when she needed them for a bath. Molly listened intently for the sound of the shower upstairs, but it never came. George began to feel limp in her arms and when she looked down, she saw that he had fallen asleep and so had Fred, who was slumped in his high chair. She laughed and, knowing full and well that Bill didn't sleep until he was sure his younger siblings were asleep, called for Bill. He came in and took the sleeping Fred out of his high chair and out of the room, into the crib he shared with his brother.
"Thank you." she whispered to Bill in the darkness.
Bill started to crank the small music box on the table. "Is dad home?"
"No." she sighed. "I hope he's alright."
"Maybe he's out drinking." Bill said coldly.
"Bill." she whispered. "I expect you'll be getting your Hogwart's letter soon."
"What if I don't get in?" Bill said. "What if I'm not good enough to go to Hogwart's?"
"You will get in." Molly whispered. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore won't allow one of my children not to be admitted. After all, he is the reason you're alive."
"What do you mean?" Bill said, perplexed.
"Well, don't tell any of your brothers." Molly whispered on the verge of laughter. "But Dumbledore married your father and I."
"He did?" Bill said, his blue eyes growing wider. "Wow! That's --"
Suddenly, the muggle phone that Arthur insisted they have rang and pelted through the silence of the house. Molly swept past Bill and into their kitchen. She picked up the phone and held it to her, just as Arthur had done. She wasn't quite sure how the thing worked. After a few seconds, someone started to talk out of the phone. Molly jumped.
"Mrs. Weasley." said the man. "This is Cornelius Fudge. I am the man that tutors your husband at muggle studies. I expect he's told you about me. Yes, well, I just want you to know that he's been fired from his post as Maintenance Manager."
"Fired?" Molly said incredulously.
"Yes." said Fudge. "He's been fired for a week now. Hasn't been to work at all. I'm getting to be worried about him. Someone said that they saw him at a Bar in Hogsmeade a few weeks ago. I'm worried about him. Arthur is a good man, but a bit stupid at times. Well, we're all young at a time, now aren't we?"
"What?" Molly whimpered, tears flowing from her eyes. "What's he gotten fired for?"
"Oh." said Fudge. "He didn't tell you? An Auror insulted his family. He said that Arthur was starving his children and beating his wife. Oh, I must say, I never did see a man go off as Arthur did. The man had to be rushed to St. Mungo's. He deserved it, but being an Auror, he won't receive such severe punishment as Arthur. The Minister was going to send him to prison for assault, but since Arthur had several young children, he decided to have mercy and just fire him."
Molly was silent.
"Judging by your reaction, he obviously didn't tell you." said Fudge. "My dear Mrs. Weasley, I would go and find him before it is too late. I'm very sorry for your husband and your family. I hope that somehow, you will get through this hard time. Well, I must go. I wish you well, Mrs. Weasley."
There was a click at the other end.
Molly fumbled the phone back into its cradle and rushed to get her cloak. She was suddenly glad that she hadn't gotten into her pajamas yet, she ran into Bill's room and told him to sit in the living room after getting all of his brothers up and in there as well. Molly rushed back to the phone and punched the numbers that Arthur told her to hit if she ever needed Seth. She listened to the strange ringing sound until Seth's voice finally got through. Molly told him of Arthur quickly and asked him if he could quickly come and baby-sit her children while she went and found her husband. Before she fumbled the phone back onto the cradle, Seth had appeared in the big stone fireplace. She took him into the living room, where Bill was carrying George in.
Too flushed with worry and fear, she could only smile at them before grabbing the floo powder and going to the entrance to Hogsmeade.
The night was cold and bitter and she shrugged the patched cloak around her neck and closed her eyes. Ahead of her, she saw the only Bar that was open in the middle of the night. Her patched boots clicked annoyingly at the gravel. Arthur, drunk? The very thought brought tears to her cold eyes. She thought how the fire would burn in Bill's eyes if she told him that his father had gone out and gotten drunk again. And, he had gotten fired as well! Where would their next meal come from? Christmas was just around the corner and Molly felt that her children needed wonderful presents for them to feel loved. She sighed as she reached the entrance. She could hear discourteous comments and rough language. She suddenly wished she didn't have to go in, but clasped her thin hand on the door handle and yanked it open.
The hot air of sweat and brewing alcohol blew against her cold cheeks. She searched the bar for Arthur and saw what appeared to be the back of his head, staring down at a mug at a table in the corner. She walked across the room, keeping her eyes focused at her husband. The drunken men around her made her feel very uncomfortable and awkward. She ducked past a man who was peering her with a drunken stare. It seemed ages until she finally reached him. He didn't look up, but she knew that he knew she was there. She sat across from him on the filthy wooden bench. Across the room, a man heartily offered to buy drinks for everyone, claiming he had won the lottery. Arthur looked stressed, his hair messed up and his face dirty. He did not look like the man that Molly had married and loved and cherished, yet she knew it was him.
And she was losing him.
"Were you trying to drink me away, Arthur?" she asked him. "Were you trying not to think of the responsibilities and duties we have as adults and not to mention parents?"
"I can't handle it." he shrugged. "I just can't. I can't handle being responsible for lives that aren't my own."
"So you went off and drank them away?" she said softly. "Arthur, you can't just drink away your children, your life, your job. Me."
He looked up.
"I know that things hardly ever look good for us." she said. "It looks like we'll always live in a world of bad luck. But Arthur, this is our life. This is where we belong and even if you had taken off and moved to Peru, I would still be your wife and the mother of your five children. You can't change that. I can't change that. This is your life, Arthur Weasley and I hope you realize that you can't just drink it away as if it were nothing."
Arthur looked down at his empty mug.
"Remember when you told me that you wanted to be a hero, Arthur?" she said. "The funny thing is, you are a hero. You are a hero to those five little boys who you feed and clothe and give joy to. Even though you may get so intoxicated you don't even remember them and even though you may claim you never loved them, you will always be their hero. That's not ever going to change. If you run away, they'll just want to chase after you and find you. Is that what you want, Arthur? Do you want to run away from us?"
Arthur looked at her.
"I wouldn't stop you if you did." she said. "If you wanted to get on the next train to China or Taiwan, I wouldn't. I'd let you go. I'd see you off, Arthur. I'd even pack your bags if that's what you wanted. But, if you went, I would never stop loving you. I would never stop wanting you to come back to me. I'd never stop waiting at the train station or on the last step on the front porch. I'd never stop waiting for the sound of the shower upstairs. And even if you were gone fifty years, I would still wait for you. And even now, Arthur. I won't make you come home if you don't wish to."
"What I'm trying to say," she said, forcing a shaky smile. "Is that I will always hope you will come home and I will always welcome you, no matter what stupid thing you've done. Will you come home, Arthur?"
He said nothing, but just stared at her with unreadable eyes.
At his silence, her eyes suddenly became disheartened. "So, this is how you want it?" she said sadly. "Then, all right. Good bye, Arthur."
Before he could see her cry, she rose from the bench and ran through the bar and out the front door into the biting cold. She sobbed into the cold night air, the wind knocking her red hair from her face. She thought to run to the floo entrance, but decided she would take the train. She had a few sickles in her pocket after all. But, oh how she wished that Arthur would be coming with her. She proceeded to walk through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade, the slushy snow seeping through her boots. Behind her, she heard a door open and faint voices of a Bar fill the air before they were shut out when the door was closed. Molly stopped hopefully and turned around just as a light snow began to fall.
"I couldn't." he said, his words becoming mist in the cold air. "I just couldn't. Even if I wanted to visit Paris and love some wonderful Veela, I couldn't. Do you hear me, Molly Weasley? I couldn't!"
"Oh, Arthur." she cried, embracing him.
"I would never run away." he said into her hair. "Never."
She looked up at him, the tears glistening in her eyes. "No matter how much we need you?"
"Molly!" he laughed. "That' the very reason that I can't run away! Not now, not tomorrow or ever! Oh, My Molly! I love you more then ever right now!"
He put his arm around her shoulder and they started to walk through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade to the Train Station. They passed old shops that they remembered from their school days. They passed places where they would have stopped to sit at if it wasn't snowing. The snow stuck decidedly to the ground around them (How wonderful! exclaimed Molly) and the sky above them was starless and comforting. For once, they joked around about things that seemed too immature for adults. They laughed like teenagers and forgot about all of their responsibilities and duties for a while. And for a while, it was lovely. They talked of Quidditch, of old professors , of paintings and of flowers. Sometimes, a child's name would slip into their conversation, but it never fazed them. A few blocks before they reached the train station, Molly stopped dead in her tracks. Arthur stepped back in surprise.
"Look, Arthur." she said in a soft whisper.
Arthur turned his head to see the endless hills of stones. In these stones, there would forever be etched memories of the dead for the hopes of the living. Suddenly, the old pain of Laura came back to him, as fresh and hurtful as ever. He felt tears come to his dry eyes as he remembered his first unborn daughter. He knew what row, what grave she was. He remembered her inscription. He remembered her Ribbon that was burned in the fire of their first home. The Ribbon that had encircled her cold, dead wrist. He shivered and looked to his wife, who was smiling softly at the graves. She took his hand and together, they started to walk down the endless rows of graves and tombs. They passed them like old shadows. In the silence of the snow, there seemed to be an odd symphony in the background. The songs of the dead. The hymns of the unborn. Molly turned abruptly at the thirtieth row and proceeded fourteen gravestones and then stopped.
"Oh, Arthur!" she cried, dropping to her knees in greif and sobbing into her cold hands.
He knelt beside her and wrapped his arms (which were feeling quite wobbly) around her. He buried his face in her hair as she sobbed.
He let her sob until her sobs dissolved into a soft crying. She looked up and stared at the rock with her daughters name engraved in it. She reached out and touched the same letters that would always be etched into her soul. She kissed her hand and placed it on the cold rock. Arthur sighed and stood up. He took her hand and, with some difficulty, made her stand and start to walk again. As they exited Hogsmeade, Molly sighed deeply. She took Arthur's gloved hand in her bare one and looked up to him.
"What kind of person do you think she would've been, Arthur?" she said.
"A very beautiful person. She would have had red hair." said Arthur. "And blue eyes."
Molly let out a sob as Arthur turned towards her. "After she died, I held her in my arms while you were out paying the bill. I will never forget how lifeless and how cold she felt. How her cold, dead eyes just stared at me like I was some horrible mother and it was all my fault." she sobbed.
"Molly." he sighed.
"Her eyes were gray." she said quietly. "Just like yours."
Arthur was silent.
"She would've been more like you, Arthur. Her mind would have been quick and she would've been slim and nimble."
"I don't want to talk about this." Arthur said, almost angrily.
"She would've been a hard worker." Molly said. "But most of all, she would've been loving. She would've been nothing like me, Arthur. And I think I would've loved her for that."
"She would've been reckless and stupid, like me." he scoffed. "She would've been impatient. You would love her for that?"
"Yes." Molly assured him. "I would have loved her all the more."
Arthur smiled at his wife as the train station came into view. They managed to buy their ticket and board the train just as it was pulling out of the station. The seats were like benches, lined up against the wall and facing each other. There was no one else on that train except for Arthur and Molly. Arthur took Molly's hand and went to the very end of a bench and leaned against the wall. He leaned one leg against the back of the seat and let one foot swing carelessly to the floor. Molly walked over and sat next to Arthur, looking quietly at the ground. Arthur looked around the cabin, aware that no one else was on the train except the two of them. He grabbed Molly's arm and pulled her against him. She giggled and then nestled her head against his chest.
They didn't talk at all. The snow turned into a heavy rain and it beat like a rhythm against the window. Arthur looked down at his wife and watched the reflections of the raindrops and scenery dance across her pale, porcelain skin. He didn't think of how long the train ride would take. He didn't think of how Seth would kill him as soon as he got home. He didn't think about money, or bills or where to get a job. He just thought of the rain pounding softly against the window and how strange it was that the cabin was warm. He closed his eyes and inhaled his wife's shampoo. His last thought before he fell asleep was a wonderful one, in an open field surrounded by a funny smell.
Lavender.
~-~-~-~-
"Mummy!" Percy wailed, running up to her when she opened the front door. "Mummy! Ow! Mummy!"
Molly sighed and picked Percy up, book and all and carried him into the living room with his brothers. The only three words that Percy knew were 'Mummy' , 'Dad' and 'Ow'. Molly never knew what he wanted, and always thought he was hurt when he came running up, screaming "Ow!" She heard Arthur close the door behind him. She put Percy down on the sofa and saw Bill, glaring angrily at his father. Arthur pretended not to notice his son, and sighed, running his hands through his hair. Seth walked in the room, carrying Fred in his arms as he cried. Immediately, when Fred caught sight of his father, he stopped crying and reached his hands out for him. Arthur was about to take him, when Seth turned away from him.
"Is he still drunk?" he asked Molly.
"Thank you, Seth." Molly said, taking Fred from him. "Where is George?"
"Charlie is playing with him in his room." Seth said to Molly. "Bill won't talk to me, Charlie won't talk to Bill. Fred needs a diaper change and George needs a bottle. And Percy," Seth stopped to look at Percy who was reaching up at his father, still saying 'Ow'. "God knows what Percy wants."
"Alright." Molly said, smiling. "Bill, would you please go get George and give him a bottle. Take Fred with you. Give Percy what he wants and tell Charlie that he needs to stop reading George out of those dusty books. He could get sick."
"Yes, mum." Bill said, taking Fred from his mother and taking Percy by the hand. Before he left, he glared at his father. "Bet you're still drunk."
Molly sighed as Bill started to trudge up the Burrow Stairs. Seth sighed angrily and ran his hands through his hair. Molly went into the kitchen and poured out the coffee pot that Seth had started into three chipped mugs. She brought them in on a tray and told Arthur to sit down. He did so, reluctantly, apparently afraid of what Seth had to say to him. Molly was the only one to take her coffee mug and start to sip it nervously.
"My bloody head is killing me." Arthur said. "I think I'll go take a nap."
"I don't think so." Seth said. "Sit down."
"You can't tell me --"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can." Seth said dangerously. "I took care of your children all night, Arthur. They're truly wonderful children, I must admit."
"I'm sorry, Seth." Molly said quietly. "It's just --"
"It's not your fault, Molly." Seth said. "It's your drunk husband's fault."
"I don't have to listen to this." Arthur said, standing up.
"The hell you do!" Seth yelled, standing up. "What kind of example are you setting for your children? Getting drunk in the middle of the night and going off to some bar when you're supposed to be going to work! Getting fired for fighting and then getting so intoxicated that you force your wife to go out to a dingy bar and get you? Are those the kind of people that you want your children to become?"
Arthur looked at Seth square in the eye.
"This isn't Hogwart's anymore, Arthur." said Seth. "You said so yourself. You can't just abandon your duties and then expect someone else to take care of it while you go out and have a good time! Your children count on you! They expect a father who will come home sober. They expect a good toy once in a while. They expect a hot meal three times a day! Who gave you the right to deny them that, Arthur Weasley?"
Arthur was still silent.
"I don't give a damn if you don't answer me or if you hate me, but if there's anything that I've learned from chasing down Voldemort, it's this. Life is more precious then anything. It can't be replaced. And once its ruined, it can't be fixed. And every life means something. And for you to create five lives and let them perish is inhuman." Seth said. "I thought that Laura would've taught you that."
"Fine!" Arthur yelled. "I'm a horrible excuse for a human being! I'm a horrible excuse for a father! I don't deserve a lovely wife or children! Are you happy now, Seth? I admit it! I deserve eternal damnation! Are you happy?"
"This isn't even about you or me!" Seth said. "This is about your children! This is about the life that you are leading them to! And you're not a horrible human being, Arthur, you're just a particularly stupid one! Your first home burns down and you almost lose your wife and child because you were out getting drunk. And now, you're doing it again! I know that you know what could happen, Arthur. The question is, do you even care?"
"Of course I care!" Arthur yelled. "That's why I went to work every day! That's why I came home at night! That's why I worked late at night and came in early in the mornings!"
"Then, don't tell it to me." Seth said. "Tell it to your children. Tell it to the children that you let down. Tell it to your wife who went out and looked for you in the cold bitter snow!"
Seth glanced up at the clock that was mounted on the wall. He sighed and walked over to Molly. "I've got to go, now. Take care, Molly, you too Arthur. If you ever need anything else, you know how to get me."
With that, he pulled out his wand and apparated with a small pop out of the room. Molly looked up at Arthur, who was looking dizzily at the coffee. He looked to the ceiling and then at his wife, who was looking back at him, clasping an empty mug of coffee. He gave her a smile and then retreated up the Burrow Stairs to get some rest.
~-~-~-
The next day, Molly went out to apply for a job at Honeyduke's, where they were looking for a cashier. In her best set of clothes, she entered the small shop. Honeyduke's was a poor shop, but its candy was delicious and cheap, so its most popular customers were children. Molly had loved to go there when she was in third year, and when she entered the shop, she saw that it hadn't changed in the slightest bit since she had gone in there as a third year student at Hogwart's. Honeyduke's didn't sell exotic, expensive, well known candy such as Sugar Quills and such. They only sold the best tasting, simple candy. Mostly because that's all that they could afford, but also because it was simple and delicious.
"Might I help you?" said the elderly man at the cashier. "We don't get many adult customers around here. Are you shopping for your children?"
"Oh, no." Molly smiled. "My name is Molly Weasley. I'm here for the job offer as cashier."
"I see." the man said gravely, nodding. "Did you finish school?"
"Well, no." she said slowly. "But I can count."
"Well, I'm sorry Molly Weasley, I can't give you the job if you didn't finish school. How do I know that you're smart enough to operate a cash register or count out change? How do I know that you could protect the children in the shop if someone came in and started to attack them?" he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."
He started to walk into the back room, but Molly grabbed his arm. "You don't understand, sir! I have five hungry, small boys at home and a husband that was just fired. I need this job. I didn't finish school because I was pregnant. I was married at sixteen. My first daughter died right after she was born. We never have enough money and Gringott's has lost its patience with us. Please, give me this job, sir! I love children and I've always loved coming here."
The man turned around and looked at her thoughtfully. "I'll give you one chance, Molly Weasley. If I catch you giving the wrong change to one child or sneaking one gumball for a little girl with no money, you're gone."
"Yes, sir." Molly said, gratefully. "Thank you so much! Oh, I won't let you down! I promise!"
Molly had rushed back home, through the floo entrance. Arthur was seated on the couch, surrounded by books and peculiar muggle objects. Molly disregarded it, running upstairs to tell Bill the wonderful news. He had smiled, but it was a sad smile. Molly had sat next to him and put her arm around him and asked him what was wrong.
"You'll always be at work." he said. "Dad doesn't know the first thing about taking care of us. He doesn't know what Fred and George need, or why they cry. He doesn't know how to read to Charlie about dragons. He doesn't know what Percy wants when he says 'Ow.' "
"Give him a chance, Bill." Molly said. "He might surprise you."
"I hate him." Bill said angrily. "I will always hate him. You promised you wouldn't love him or any of my brothers more then you love me."
"Bill, I love you." she said quietly. "And I love your father. I love all of your brothers. But, it's not that I love them more then you and its not that I love them differently. I love so many things about you. I love other things about your father and brothers. But, listen to me, Bill. None of your brothers or your father will ever, ever have more love then you. I know I can't promise you a wonderful house or wonderful toys at Christmas. But, I can promise you that."
"Okay." Bill smiled. "Mum, when my brothers and me go to Hogwart's, will we get teased?"
"Why on earth would get teased for?" Molly said.
"Because we're poor." said Bill. "Because all of our robes and school books will be second hand. Because we'll have the brightest red hair in all the school."
"Bill," Molly said, smiling. "I'm not asking you to be the most popular boy in school. I'm not asking you to be the smartest or the strongest. But, you must never, ever let people tell you that you can't do something. Because, my dear, there is absolutely nothing that you can't do."
"What if I became Head Boy?" Bill said. "What if I was Quidditch Captain?"
"That would be very wonderful." Molly admitted. "But, you must understand, if you were to be a complete failure at everything, I would still love you just the same because you are My Bill. No one else can be My Bill, not Charlie or Fred or George or Percy or even your father. We've survived the slimmest of odds, Bill, you and I. We've faced down You-Know-Who and lived. I am not capable of any more, I'm sure. But, you, Bill. I believe you will be someone truly great."
Bill was silent, but his eyes said all that Molly needed to know.
Molly went downstairs and sat on the bottom step, watching Arthur put together and take apart a strange muggle contraption. It was a shiny sort of thing, and he kept putting toast in it and every few seconds it would shriek and the toast would pop out. The most amazing part was that the jumping toast needed not a wand wave or an incantation, it just needed strange round cells that Arthur called batteries. He made the toast jump over and over, and every time, it became more and more black and burned.
"What are you doing?" Molly finally asked. "What are all these books for?"
"I'm going to study." said Arthur. "I'm going to major in Muggle Studies and work at the Ministry. The Minister of Magic said that if I passed the Exam with a perfect score, I could go back and work in the Muggle Studies Department. Isn't it grand?"
"Muggles?" Molly scoffed. "They're terribly boring, don't you think?"
"No!" Arthur said. "Not in the least. You'd be surprised by the number of things these muggles have invented to aid them without magic."
"Like that toast thing you're playing with?" she said.
"Yes." He nodded. "It's quite convenient. But, to learn about muggles would be truly fascinating and I think it'll be a wonderful thing to learn about things from a different point of view. You know, being the purebloods we are, Molly, we don't know a thing about muggles."
"You're right." she sighed. "I do wish that I was muggle born. It seems more lovely and dreamy like to be a muggle. To dream of magic and flying things is one thing, a truly magical thing. But, to actually live the dream, well it can get rather boring."
"Won't it be wonderful, though, that I'll have a high paying job! Our children can get toys at Christmas. Maybe I'll even set up Quidditch rings in the backyard." Arthur smiled. "Wouldn't that be wonderful?"
"That would be wonderful." Molly said thoughtfully as Arthur reloaded the silver thing. "But you know what I'd like?"
"What would you like, Molly dearest?" he said, looking at her.
She got up and caught the toast in mid-air as it jumped up. "Breakfast, my dear. Breakfast."
As she went back up the Burrow Stairs he found himself smiling a goofy sort of a smile as he thought of all the things to come. It was true, they didn't live a rich, luxurious life or a perfect one. But, it was the imperfections that made it all the better. Arthur sighed, ran his hands through his hair and turned the next page in his book.
When Percy was two, Molly had gone to the hospital and given birth to two twins, of whom she named Fred and George. Arthur hadn't been there, of course, because he was working. She had looked at her two small sons and concluded that they looked very small and precious. When Arthur had come later that day, Molly was holding one in each arm, lying on the bed, craving for a slice of cake. Arthur had taken one, and asked how in the world they would tell them apart. Molly had said that perhaps they wouldn't be identical twins and as they grew older, they would look incredibly different and all would be well. Arthur had sighed and commented that if that didn't happen, he would never be able to tell them apart and forever call them by the wrong name.
It was a bit of a nasty shock for Percy when he had to move into another room so that his two new younger brothers could sleep side by side. Molly wanted seperate cribs, but Arthur said that cribs these days were very expensive. So, Fred and George slept in the same cribs that all of their brothers (with the exception of Bill) had slept in. Bill had smiled at his two younger brothers when they came home and said that he could tell them apart already. Arthur had given a halfhearted laugh and had written "George" on one side of the crib and "Fred" on the other, so Molly would know where to put which twin so that he would know which was which. Molly had said that as a father, he should be able to tell which one was Fred and which was George and needn't label the crib. Arthur had sighed and told her to tell Percy to stop pestering Bill to read to him.
And so, after a few months of adjusting to Fred and George, things returned to almost normal because things could never really truly be normal in a Weasley household. What, with five small children and all, it's hard to be semi-normal. But, they got by. Gringott's was beginning to get to know them by their almost late payments and so was Seth, who got a letter now and then, asking for a little money for Christmas or a birthday, or for just a house payment. With Bill always trying to make his little brothers behave and his little brothers always trying to purposely defy him, things were never really at peace. Someone was always screaming, or crying or wailing or whimpering or asking for food or books or toys or a bath or a change. And just when Molly almost though to complain, she stopped herself, because she knew that she wouldn't change anything in her life for the world.
One day, Molly held little George on her lap while little Fred sat in his high chair, clanging a spoon on his tray. It was late, and suddenly Molly heard the clock chime midnight. It was customary that her two twins were up at midnight because they were always up when she needed to sleep and asleep when she needed them for a bath. Molly listened intently for the sound of the shower upstairs, but it never came. George began to feel limp in her arms and when she looked down, she saw that he had fallen asleep and so had Fred, who was slumped in his high chair. She laughed and, knowing full and well that Bill didn't sleep until he was sure his younger siblings were asleep, called for Bill. He came in and took the sleeping Fred out of his high chair and out of the room, into the crib he shared with his brother.
"Thank you." she whispered to Bill in the darkness.
Bill started to crank the small music box on the table. "Is dad home?"
"No." she sighed. "I hope he's alright."
"Maybe he's out drinking." Bill said coldly.
"Bill." she whispered. "I expect you'll be getting your Hogwart's letter soon."
"What if I don't get in?" Bill said. "What if I'm not good enough to go to Hogwart's?"
"You will get in." Molly whispered. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore won't allow one of my children not to be admitted. After all, he is the reason you're alive."
"What do you mean?" Bill said, perplexed.
"Well, don't tell any of your brothers." Molly whispered on the verge of laughter. "But Dumbledore married your father and I."
"He did?" Bill said, his blue eyes growing wider. "Wow! That's --"
Suddenly, the muggle phone that Arthur insisted they have rang and pelted through the silence of the house. Molly swept past Bill and into their kitchen. She picked up the phone and held it to her, just as Arthur had done. She wasn't quite sure how the thing worked. After a few seconds, someone started to talk out of the phone. Molly jumped.
"Mrs. Weasley." said the man. "This is Cornelius Fudge. I am the man that tutors your husband at muggle studies. I expect he's told you about me. Yes, well, I just want you to know that he's been fired from his post as Maintenance Manager."
"Fired?" Molly said incredulously.
"Yes." said Fudge. "He's been fired for a week now. Hasn't been to work at all. I'm getting to be worried about him. Someone said that they saw him at a Bar in Hogsmeade a few weeks ago. I'm worried about him. Arthur is a good man, but a bit stupid at times. Well, we're all young at a time, now aren't we?"
"What?" Molly whimpered, tears flowing from her eyes. "What's he gotten fired for?"
"Oh." said Fudge. "He didn't tell you? An Auror insulted his family. He said that Arthur was starving his children and beating his wife. Oh, I must say, I never did see a man go off as Arthur did. The man had to be rushed to St. Mungo's. He deserved it, but being an Auror, he won't receive such severe punishment as Arthur. The Minister was going to send him to prison for assault, but since Arthur had several young children, he decided to have mercy and just fire him."
Molly was silent.
"Judging by your reaction, he obviously didn't tell you." said Fudge. "My dear Mrs. Weasley, I would go and find him before it is too late. I'm very sorry for your husband and your family. I hope that somehow, you will get through this hard time. Well, I must go. I wish you well, Mrs. Weasley."
There was a click at the other end.
Molly fumbled the phone back into its cradle and rushed to get her cloak. She was suddenly glad that she hadn't gotten into her pajamas yet, she ran into Bill's room and told him to sit in the living room after getting all of his brothers up and in there as well. Molly rushed back to the phone and punched the numbers that Arthur told her to hit if she ever needed Seth. She listened to the strange ringing sound until Seth's voice finally got through. Molly told him of Arthur quickly and asked him if he could quickly come and baby-sit her children while she went and found her husband. Before she fumbled the phone back onto the cradle, Seth had appeared in the big stone fireplace. She took him into the living room, where Bill was carrying George in.
Too flushed with worry and fear, she could only smile at them before grabbing the floo powder and going to the entrance to Hogsmeade.
The night was cold and bitter and she shrugged the patched cloak around her neck and closed her eyes. Ahead of her, she saw the only Bar that was open in the middle of the night. Her patched boots clicked annoyingly at the gravel. Arthur, drunk? The very thought brought tears to her cold eyes. She thought how the fire would burn in Bill's eyes if she told him that his father had gone out and gotten drunk again. And, he had gotten fired as well! Where would their next meal come from? Christmas was just around the corner and Molly felt that her children needed wonderful presents for them to feel loved. She sighed as she reached the entrance. She could hear discourteous comments and rough language. She suddenly wished she didn't have to go in, but clasped her thin hand on the door handle and yanked it open.
The hot air of sweat and brewing alcohol blew against her cold cheeks. She searched the bar for Arthur and saw what appeared to be the back of his head, staring down at a mug at a table in the corner. She walked across the room, keeping her eyes focused at her husband. The drunken men around her made her feel very uncomfortable and awkward. She ducked past a man who was peering her with a drunken stare. It seemed ages until she finally reached him. He didn't look up, but she knew that he knew she was there. She sat across from him on the filthy wooden bench. Across the room, a man heartily offered to buy drinks for everyone, claiming he had won the lottery. Arthur looked stressed, his hair messed up and his face dirty. He did not look like the man that Molly had married and loved and cherished, yet she knew it was him.
And she was losing him.
"Were you trying to drink me away, Arthur?" she asked him. "Were you trying not to think of the responsibilities and duties we have as adults and not to mention parents?"
"I can't handle it." he shrugged. "I just can't. I can't handle being responsible for lives that aren't my own."
"So you went off and drank them away?" she said softly. "Arthur, you can't just drink away your children, your life, your job. Me."
He looked up.
"I know that things hardly ever look good for us." she said. "It looks like we'll always live in a world of bad luck. But Arthur, this is our life. This is where we belong and even if you had taken off and moved to Peru, I would still be your wife and the mother of your five children. You can't change that. I can't change that. This is your life, Arthur Weasley and I hope you realize that you can't just drink it away as if it were nothing."
Arthur looked down at his empty mug.
"Remember when you told me that you wanted to be a hero, Arthur?" she said. "The funny thing is, you are a hero. You are a hero to those five little boys who you feed and clothe and give joy to. Even though you may get so intoxicated you don't even remember them and even though you may claim you never loved them, you will always be their hero. That's not ever going to change. If you run away, they'll just want to chase after you and find you. Is that what you want, Arthur? Do you want to run away from us?"
Arthur looked at her.
"I wouldn't stop you if you did." she said. "If you wanted to get on the next train to China or Taiwan, I wouldn't. I'd let you go. I'd see you off, Arthur. I'd even pack your bags if that's what you wanted. But, if you went, I would never stop loving you. I would never stop wanting you to come back to me. I'd never stop waiting at the train station or on the last step on the front porch. I'd never stop waiting for the sound of the shower upstairs. And even if you were gone fifty years, I would still wait for you. And even now, Arthur. I won't make you come home if you don't wish to."
"What I'm trying to say," she said, forcing a shaky smile. "Is that I will always hope you will come home and I will always welcome you, no matter what stupid thing you've done. Will you come home, Arthur?"
He said nothing, but just stared at her with unreadable eyes.
At his silence, her eyes suddenly became disheartened. "So, this is how you want it?" she said sadly. "Then, all right. Good bye, Arthur."
Before he could see her cry, she rose from the bench and ran through the bar and out the front door into the biting cold. She sobbed into the cold night air, the wind knocking her red hair from her face. She thought to run to the floo entrance, but decided she would take the train. She had a few sickles in her pocket after all. But, oh how she wished that Arthur would be coming with her. She proceeded to walk through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade, the slushy snow seeping through her boots. Behind her, she heard a door open and faint voices of a Bar fill the air before they were shut out when the door was closed. Molly stopped hopefully and turned around just as a light snow began to fall.
"I couldn't." he said, his words becoming mist in the cold air. "I just couldn't. Even if I wanted to visit Paris and love some wonderful Veela, I couldn't. Do you hear me, Molly Weasley? I couldn't!"
"Oh, Arthur." she cried, embracing him.
"I would never run away." he said into her hair. "Never."
She looked up at him, the tears glistening in her eyes. "No matter how much we need you?"
"Molly!" he laughed. "That' the very reason that I can't run away! Not now, not tomorrow or ever! Oh, My Molly! I love you more then ever right now!"
He put his arm around her shoulder and they started to walk through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade to the Train Station. They passed old shops that they remembered from their school days. They passed places where they would have stopped to sit at if it wasn't snowing. The snow stuck decidedly to the ground around them (How wonderful! exclaimed Molly) and the sky above them was starless and comforting. For once, they joked around about things that seemed too immature for adults. They laughed like teenagers and forgot about all of their responsibilities and duties for a while. And for a while, it was lovely. They talked of Quidditch, of old professors , of paintings and of flowers. Sometimes, a child's name would slip into their conversation, but it never fazed them. A few blocks before they reached the train station, Molly stopped dead in her tracks. Arthur stepped back in surprise.
"Look, Arthur." she said in a soft whisper.
Arthur turned his head to see the endless hills of stones. In these stones, there would forever be etched memories of the dead for the hopes of the living. Suddenly, the old pain of Laura came back to him, as fresh and hurtful as ever. He felt tears come to his dry eyes as he remembered his first unborn daughter. He knew what row, what grave she was. He remembered her inscription. He remembered her Ribbon that was burned in the fire of their first home. The Ribbon that had encircled her cold, dead wrist. He shivered and looked to his wife, who was smiling softly at the graves. She took his hand and together, they started to walk down the endless rows of graves and tombs. They passed them like old shadows. In the silence of the snow, there seemed to be an odd symphony in the background. The songs of the dead. The hymns of the unborn. Molly turned abruptly at the thirtieth row and proceeded fourteen gravestones and then stopped.
"Oh, Arthur!" she cried, dropping to her knees in greif and sobbing into her cold hands.
He knelt beside her and wrapped his arms (which were feeling quite wobbly) around her. He buried his face in her hair as she sobbed.
He let her sob until her sobs dissolved into a soft crying. She looked up and stared at the rock with her daughters name engraved in it. She reached out and touched the same letters that would always be etched into her soul. She kissed her hand and placed it on the cold rock. Arthur sighed and stood up. He took her hand and, with some difficulty, made her stand and start to walk again. As they exited Hogsmeade, Molly sighed deeply. She took Arthur's gloved hand in her bare one and looked up to him.
"What kind of person do you think she would've been, Arthur?" she said.
"A very beautiful person. She would have had red hair." said Arthur. "And blue eyes."
Molly let out a sob as Arthur turned towards her. "After she died, I held her in my arms while you were out paying the bill. I will never forget how lifeless and how cold she felt. How her cold, dead eyes just stared at me like I was some horrible mother and it was all my fault." she sobbed.
"Molly." he sighed.
"Her eyes were gray." she said quietly. "Just like yours."
Arthur was silent.
"She would've been more like you, Arthur. Her mind would have been quick and she would've been slim and nimble."
"I don't want to talk about this." Arthur said, almost angrily.
"She would've been a hard worker." Molly said. "But most of all, she would've been loving. She would've been nothing like me, Arthur. And I think I would've loved her for that."
"She would've been reckless and stupid, like me." he scoffed. "She would've been impatient. You would love her for that?"
"Yes." Molly assured him. "I would have loved her all the more."
Arthur smiled at his wife as the train station came into view. They managed to buy their ticket and board the train just as it was pulling out of the station. The seats were like benches, lined up against the wall and facing each other. There was no one else on that train except for Arthur and Molly. Arthur took Molly's hand and went to the very end of a bench and leaned against the wall. He leaned one leg against the back of the seat and let one foot swing carelessly to the floor. Molly walked over and sat next to Arthur, looking quietly at the ground. Arthur looked around the cabin, aware that no one else was on the train except the two of them. He grabbed Molly's arm and pulled her against him. She giggled and then nestled her head against his chest.
They didn't talk at all. The snow turned into a heavy rain and it beat like a rhythm against the window. Arthur looked down at his wife and watched the reflections of the raindrops and scenery dance across her pale, porcelain skin. He didn't think of how long the train ride would take. He didn't think of how Seth would kill him as soon as he got home. He didn't think about money, or bills or where to get a job. He just thought of the rain pounding softly against the window and how strange it was that the cabin was warm. He closed his eyes and inhaled his wife's shampoo. His last thought before he fell asleep was a wonderful one, in an open field surrounded by a funny smell.
Lavender.
~-~-~-~-
"Mummy!" Percy wailed, running up to her when she opened the front door. "Mummy! Ow! Mummy!"
Molly sighed and picked Percy up, book and all and carried him into the living room with his brothers. The only three words that Percy knew were 'Mummy' , 'Dad' and 'Ow'. Molly never knew what he wanted, and always thought he was hurt when he came running up, screaming "Ow!" She heard Arthur close the door behind him. She put Percy down on the sofa and saw Bill, glaring angrily at his father. Arthur pretended not to notice his son, and sighed, running his hands through his hair. Seth walked in the room, carrying Fred in his arms as he cried. Immediately, when Fred caught sight of his father, he stopped crying and reached his hands out for him. Arthur was about to take him, when Seth turned away from him.
"Is he still drunk?" he asked Molly.
"Thank you, Seth." Molly said, taking Fred from him. "Where is George?"
"Charlie is playing with him in his room." Seth said to Molly. "Bill won't talk to me, Charlie won't talk to Bill. Fred needs a diaper change and George needs a bottle. And Percy," Seth stopped to look at Percy who was reaching up at his father, still saying 'Ow'. "God knows what Percy wants."
"Alright." Molly said, smiling. "Bill, would you please go get George and give him a bottle. Take Fred with you. Give Percy what he wants and tell Charlie that he needs to stop reading George out of those dusty books. He could get sick."
"Yes, mum." Bill said, taking Fred from his mother and taking Percy by the hand. Before he left, he glared at his father. "Bet you're still drunk."
Molly sighed as Bill started to trudge up the Burrow Stairs. Seth sighed angrily and ran his hands through his hair. Molly went into the kitchen and poured out the coffee pot that Seth had started into three chipped mugs. She brought them in on a tray and told Arthur to sit down. He did so, reluctantly, apparently afraid of what Seth had to say to him. Molly was the only one to take her coffee mug and start to sip it nervously.
"My bloody head is killing me." Arthur said. "I think I'll go take a nap."
"I don't think so." Seth said. "Sit down."
"You can't tell me --"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can." Seth said dangerously. "I took care of your children all night, Arthur. They're truly wonderful children, I must admit."
"I'm sorry, Seth." Molly said quietly. "It's just --"
"It's not your fault, Molly." Seth said. "It's your drunk husband's fault."
"I don't have to listen to this." Arthur said, standing up.
"The hell you do!" Seth yelled, standing up. "What kind of example are you setting for your children? Getting drunk in the middle of the night and going off to some bar when you're supposed to be going to work! Getting fired for fighting and then getting so intoxicated that you force your wife to go out to a dingy bar and get you? Are those the kind of people that you want your children to become?"
Arthur looked at Seth square in the eye.
"This isn't Hogwart's anymore, Arthur." said Seth. "You said so yourself. You can't just abandon your duties and then expect someone else to take care of it while you go out and have a good time! Your children count on you! They expect a father who will come home sober. They expect a good toy once in a while. They expect a hot meal three times a day! Who gave you the right to deny them that, Arthur Weasley?"
Arthur was still silent.
"I don't give a damn if you don't answer me or if you hate me, but if there's anything that I've learned from chasing down Voldemort, it's this. Life is more precious then anything. It can't be replaced. And once its ruined, it can't be fixed. And every life means something. And for you to create five lives and let them perish is inhuman." Seth said. "I thought that Laura would've taught you that."
"Fine!" Arthur yelled. "I'm a horrible excuse for a human being! I'm a horrible excuse for a father! I don't deserve a lovely wife or children! Are you happy now, Seth? I admit it! I deserve eternal damnation! Are you happy?"
"This isn't even about you or me!" Seth said. "This is about your children! This is about the life that you are leading them to! And you're not a horrible human being, Arthur, you're just a particularly stupid one! Your first home burns down and you almost lose your wife and child because you were out getting drunk. And now, you're doing it again! I know that you know what could happen, Arthur. The question is, do you even care?"
"Of course I care!" Arthur yelled. "That's why I went to work every day! That's why I came home at night! That's why I worked late at night and came in early in the mornings!"
"Then, don't tell it to me." Seth said. "Tell it to your children. Tell it to the children that you let down. Tell it to your wife who went out and looked for you in the cold bitter snow!"
Seth glanced up at the clock that was mounted on the wall. He sighed and walked over to Molly. "I've got to go, now. Take care, Molly, you too Arthur. If you ever need anything else, you know how to get me."
With that, he pulled out his wand and apparated with a small pop out of the room. Molly looked up at Arthur, who was looking dizzily at the coffee. He looked to the ceiling and then at his wife, who was looking back at him, clasping an empty mug of coffee. He gave her a smile and then retreated up the Burrow Stairs to get some rest.
~-~-~-
The next day, Molly went out to apply for a job at Honeyduke's, where they were looking for a cashier. In her best set of clothes, she entered the small shop. Honeyduke's was a poor shop, but its candy was delicious and cheap, so its most popular customers were children. Molly had loved to go there when she was in third year, and when she entered the shop, she saw that it hadn't changed in the slightest bit since she had gone in there as a third year student at Hogwart's. Honeyduke's didn't sell exotic, expensive, well known candy such as Sugar Quills and such. They only sold the best tasting, simple candy. Mostly because that's all that they could afford, but also because it was simple and delicious.
"Might I help you?" said the elderly man at the cashier. "We don't get many adult customers around here. Are you shopping for your children?"
"Oh, no." Molly smiled. "My name is Molly Weasley. I'm here for the job offer as cashier."
"I see." the man said gravely, nodding. "Did you finish school?"
"Well, no." she said slowly. "But I can count."
"Well, I'm sorry Molly Weasley, I can't give you the job if you didn't finish school. How do I know that you're smart enough to operate a cash register or count out change? How do I know that you could protect the children in the shop if someone came in and started to attack them?" he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."
He started to walk into the back room, but Molly grabbed his arm. "You don't understand, sir! I have five hungry, small boys at home and a husband that was just fired. I need this job. I didn't finish school because I was pregnant. I was married at sixteen. My first daughter died right after she was born. We never have enough money and Gringott's has lost its patience with us. Please, give me this job, sir! I love children and I've always loved coming here."
The man turned around and looked at her thoughtfully. "I'll give you one chance, Molly Weasley. If I catch you giving the wrong change to one child or sneaking one gumball for a little girl with no money, you're gone."
"Yes, sir." Molly said, gratefully. "Thank you so much! Oh, I won't let you down! I promise!"
Molly had rushed back home, through the floo entrance. Arthur was seated on the couch, surrounded by books and peculiar muggle objects. Molly disregarded it, running upstairs to tell Bill the wonderful news. He had smiled, but it was a sad smile. Molly had sat next to him and put her arm around him and asked him what was wrong.
"You'll always be at work." he said. "Dad doesn't know the first thing about taking care of us. He doesn't know what Fred and George need, or why they cry. He doesn't know how to read to Charlie about dragons. He doesn't know what Percy wants when he says 'Ow.' "
"Give him a chance, Bill." Molly said. "He might surprise you."
"I hate him." Bill said angrily. "I will always hate him. You promised you wouldn't love him or any of my brothers more then you love me."
"Bill, I love you." she said quietly. "And I love your father. I love all of your brothers. But, it's not that I love them more then you and its not that I love them differently. I love so many things about you. I love other things about your father and brothers. But, listen to me, Bill. None of your brothers or your father will ever, ever have more love then you. I know I can't promise you a wonderful house or wonderful toys at Christmas. But, I can promise you that."
"Okay." Bill smiled. "Mum, when my brothers and me go to Hogwart's, will we get teased?"
"Why on earth would get teased for?" Molly said.
"Because we're poor." said Bill. "Because all of our robes and school books will be second hand. Because we'll have the brightest red hair in all the school."
"Bill," Molly said, smiling. "I'm not asking you to be the most popular boy in school. I'm not asking you to be the smartest or the strongest. But, you must never, ever let people tell you that you can't do something. Because, my dear, there is absolutely nothing that you can't do."
"What if I became Head Boy?" Bill said. "What if I was Quidditch Captain?"
"That would be very wonderful." Molly admitted. "But, you must understand, if you were to be a complete failure at everything, I would still love you just the same because you are My Bill. No one else can be My Bill, not Charlie or Fred or George or Percy or even your father. We've survived the slimmest of odds, Bill, you and I. We've faced down You-Know-Who and lived. I am not capable of any more, I'm sure. But, you, Bill. I believe you will be someone truly great."
Bill was silent, but his eyes said all that Molly needed to know.
Molly went downstairs and sat on the bottom step, watching Arthur put together and take apart a strange muggle contraption. It was a shiny sort of thing, and he kept putting toast in it and every few seconds it would shriek and the toast would pop out. The most amazing part was that the jumping toast needed not a wand wave or an incantation, it just needed strange round cells that Arthur called batteries. He made the toast jump over and over, and every time, it became more and more black and burned.
"What are you doing?" Molly finally asked. "What are all these books for?"
"I'm going to study." said Arthur. "I'm going to major in Muggle Studies and work at the Ministry. The Minister of Magic said that if I passed the Exam with a perfect score, I could go back and work in the Muggle Studies Department. Isn't it grand?"
"Muggles?" Molly scoffed. "They're terribly boring, don't you think?"
"No!" Arthur said. "Not in the least. You'd be surprised by the number of things these muggles have invented to aid them without magic."
"Like that toast thing you're playing with?" she said.
"Yes." He nodded. "It's quite convenient. But, to learn about muggles would be truly fascinating and I think it'll be a wonderful thing to learn about things from a different point of view. You know, being the purebloods we are, Molly, we don't know a thing about muggles."
"You're right." she sighed. "I do wish that I was muggle born. It seems more lovely and dreamy like to be a muggle. To dream of magic and flying things is one thing, a truly magical thing. But, to actually live the dream, well it can get rather boring."
"Won't it be wonderful, though, that I'll have a high paying job! Our children can get toys at Christmas. Maybe I'll even set up Quidditch rings in the backyard." Arthur smiled. "Wouldn't that be wonderful?"
"That would be wonderful." Molly said thoughtfully as Arthur reloaded the silver thing. "But you know what I'd like?"
"What would you like, Molly dearest?" he said, looking at her.
She got up and caught the toast in mid-air as it jumped up. "Breakfast, my dear. Breakfast."
As she went back up the Burrow Stairs he found himself smiling a goofy sort of a smile as he thought of all the things to come. It was true, they didn't live a rich, luxurious life or a perfect one. But, it was the imperfections that made it all the better. Arthur sighed, ran his hands through his hair and turned the next page in his book.