The Little Things

Summary: When his children were young Arthur Weasley expected to get little drawings or clay sculpture's for Father's Day. As his children grew he got less and less of what he expected. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related. I really wish I did though!

Author's Note: This is set during 5th year and please bear with my other dates. I think Hogwarts students take their OWL's in May and Fred and George left at the end of April…

I'm also sorry for the possible change of tense halfway through the story. I stopped for an hour to watch TV and then when I returned I completely forgot what tense I was supposed to be writing in!


This story has been edited on the 26th March 2008 because my usual four-dash scene divider no longer works.


Arthur Weasley sighed sadly as the last of the morning owls arrived with letters from his children. None of his 7 children were currently at home, two were currently at school (with two supposed to be at school), one no longer talking with him, one in Romania and one in Egypt, and he was slightly depressed with the gift-less letters that they had sent him.

Not that Arthur Weasley was a selfish man. Even though he knew that his job didn't pay much and that his family were only a short jump away from poverty it didn't phase him in the least. He loved the somewhat simple life he led, he loved his home with all it's quirks and he loved his family with all of his heart.

But he missed the little things.

The loving father made his way upstairs to the bedroom that he shared with his beloved wife and bent down next to his side of the bed, reaching underneath it. He pulled out a box and opened it as he sat on the bed.

Inside were little trinkets that he had collected over the years. Pieces of paper with childish drawings dabbed onto them, small clay models that looked like little blobs of rocks instead of the magnificent creatures that were envisioned in his children's minds.

Every Christmas the old lady who lived at the end of their road gave each of his children a clay set as a present, and his children loved them.

So, as a result, in the box there were various little clay models, all varying in shape and size.

Bill had made a rather-large "Goblin" for his father when he was 6. Every time Bill remembers it now he says it looks more like a post-box with legs than a Goblin.

Arthur gingerly picked out a small blob that had obvious hands, feet and something sticking out of its' back. Even though it wasn't labelled Arthur knew whom it belonged too. 5-year-old Charlie Weasley had made a dragon with his clay set and had given it to his father (at his mother's insistence) for Father's Day. The current Charlie, who is 22 and works with dragons in Romania, bashfully ignores that he made something so childish, but inside he treasures it just as much as his father.

Percy stopped modelling when he was 4, and ever since then he's only written formal letters. Even though his first attempts didn't sound too formal.

The models the twins made were always the same, but different in a way only a parent could tell. But the twins soon got bored of model-making and went about a different way of celebrating Father's Day, usually by causing as much havoc as possible.

There was only one model each for Ron and Ginny, as the lady at the end of the road died the year after Ginny was born. Both models were plate-shaped with little handprints embedded into the clay. Their names were scratched carefully into the bottom by Molly.

Instead the rest of their gifts, and the rest of his children's, consisted of drawings doodled in their spare time. Most were done obviously for Father's Day, as they had the most care taken into doing them. But some were just done for the fun of it, since they tended to be the most hastily drawn one's.

The drawings consisted of simple animal drawings to objects, to stick figures to random blobs of colour. The last drawing ever drawn for him was a joint effort by Ron and Ginny. The drawing was based on 'Life at The Burrow' and had the random snippets of things that made their house a home. It was dated the Father's Day before Ron left for Hogwarts. The next year Ginny had only got him flowers.

Arthur smiled sadly as he replaced the lid on the box and returned it to the place at the bottom of his bed. He closed his eyes in thought, but a tapping at the window startled him out of his daze.

He was quite surprised to see the mass of white feathers that was Hedwig sitting serenely on the windowsill, waiting to be let in. He opened the window and Hedwig lifted her leg obediently. Arthur removed her letter and watched her for a moment as she flew off.

Arthur looked at the letter, which was simply labelled 'Dad'. He was slightly confused, seeing as though Hedwig was Harry Potter's owl. But he unfolded it nevertheless.

It read:

'Dear Dad.

Happy Father's Day! Again.

Sorry for the second letter but we'd just sent off Pig when we realised we'd forgotten something, so we borrowed Hedwig (just don't tell Harry, he doesn't know!)-

Arthur readjusted his hold on the letter as he made a mental note to reprimand his youngest for borrowing without permission, when two sheets of parchment fell to the floor from behind the letter.

Arthur bent down to pick them up when his heart caught in his throat. One sheet of parchment was a hand-made card, drawings and everything and the other was a picture of his two youngest, both were smiling and waving happily. On the back was written 'Ginny and Ron, 1996' in Ginny's neat handwriting.

-What bugs me is that we've never thought of this before! When Hermione asked if we've done this before I could have smacked myself! I know that we usually don't get together for a photograph and that we haven't had a recent photo in years so we (as in me and Ron) decided to rectify that!

I hope you like it, and we're looking forward to the holidays! (Schoolwork is BORING!).

Lots of Love,

Ginny and Ron.'

Arthur smiled happily as he held the photograph close.

So when Molly returned from her trip to the local grocery store she swore that there was a picture on the mantelpiece that wasn't there before.