The sun was setting and a light mist was gently rolling in over the sleepy little town of Ottery St. Catchpole. Inside the Burrow, Molly sat quietly at the end of a very long table, watching her family finish the remains of their Christmas feast, and laughing occasionally as they shared tales and memories of the past few years. Suddenly, a loud burst of raucous laughter ensued from the other end of the table. Ron, Harry, and Arthur each had their fists in their mouths and were shaking with laughter while Charlie had clearly succumbed to a fit of silent giggles.
"Ho! I say, that's very good, Dad!" Percy mused. "A might improper but amusing nonetheless."
Whatever elicited such an amused response from her third child piqued Molly's curiosity.
"Do tell, Arthur. What's so hilarious at that end of the table?"
"Oh, erm. Nothing, Molls. It's, it's nothing, dear. Holiday joke." Her husband mumbled. Ron snorted into his mead. Hermione elbowed him, which caused Harry to grin, which caused Ginny to roll her eyes. Really, Molly thought. I don't know what else I was expecting with this lot. She smiled despite herself. She watched as Harry leaned close to the blue haired boy beside him and whispered something in his ear. Teddy grinned and nodded. He squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. Everyone turned toward him. Slowly but surely, Teddy's nose began to take on a very pig-like shape.
Ginny and Hermione both laughed gleefully and everyone applauded.
"I'm learning how to do more than my hair and eyes and stuff now." He explained, shyly. "Uncle Harry said my mum used to do her nose for Aunt Ginny and Hermione."
"She did," agreed Ginny, nodding. "Most every dinner that we had with her. Made me laugh every time. In fact, there was a time or two Hermione and I got in trouble for being too rowdy at the table, and I blame it all on your mother!" she recalled, glancing at Molly.
"Yeah, I remember that." Ron chimed in. "Mum kind of lost it on you a few times. Back at Sirius'."
He stopped, glancing at Harry. Although many years had passed and many lives were lost, Molly knew that Harry would always carry the guilt of Sirius' death.
"It's okay, mate," said Harry with a smile. "And I do remember those dinners."
"You're doing very well, Teddy!" Hermione declared. The pig snout was definitely my favorite." She added with a wink. The rest of the table murmured their agreement. Teddy beamed.
"That was really funny!" Giggled Victoire from across the table. She tossed her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and leaned forward slightly. "Can you do it again?"
Teddy blushed but obliged. Victoire squealed with glee and clapped her delicate hands. Victoire's delight only made Teddy blush a deeper shade of pink. Molly did a double take. Yes, the roots of his hair were also turning a dark shade of magenta. She supposed she'd better do something to shift the focus off the poor boy before his whole head sprouted tulips or something.
"Let's make a toast, shall we?" Molly proposed, standing up and raising her glass of pumpkin juice. The rest of the adults followed suit.
"To family," toasted Molly. "In all shapes and sizes, ages and colors, here or there, in the present or in memory. To love."
"To love!" Was echoed around the table. Hermione raised her wand and golden droplets of light rained down upon them all. She caught Harry's eye from across the table.
"To the ones that love us..." She began.
"But never really leave us." Harry finished.
It wasn't until everyone settled back into their chairs and quieted down again that Albus' absence was noticed.
"When was the last time you saw him?" Ginny asked Harry.
"He was right next to me when Teddy was doing his nose!" Replied Harry. Ginny stood up.
"He can't have gone too far." She said. "I'll go look for him."
"It's okay, Ginny," Harry said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'll go look."
"Are you mad?" Exclaimed Ron, getting to his feet. "We'll all have a look."
"Alright!" said Molly, holding up her hands for the second time that evening. "Arthur, Bill, Charlie, you take the garage and the shed. Percy, search the garden (no Freddie you may not play with the gnomes right now) Ron- the attic please. Hermione- first floor. George, Angelina, and I will help Ginny and Harry with the bedrooms. Fleur and Audrey can attend to the children." And with a determined look on her face, she marched up the very crooked staircase to search for her grandson.
Molly was slightly worried, but she tried not to show it as they combed the Burrow. This wasn't the first time little Al had wandered off on his own. He was a rather unusual child, in Molly's opinion. Quiet. At times, withdrawn. Very bright, but quiet. She often wondered how on Earth two such outgoing people as her daughter and Harry Potter managed to have such a mild tempered child. James was certainly outgoing. Reminiscent of his namesake, that one. Much like little Freddie is. Lily is starting to come out of her shell now as well. But little Al. Little Al, with his guarded, painful eyes. Little Al, who Molly wanted to hug the lonely out of.
"Ginny!" George's voice. Molly hastened down the hall. George was standing in the doorway of his old bedroom. The one he'd shared with his twin for almost 17 years of his life. There, in the middle of the small, dark room, sat little Al. Cross-legged and calm as could be. Ginny and Harry soon appeared behind Molly.
"Al! There you are!" Sighed Ginny with relief. "What are you doing up here?"
Albus gave himself a little shake and looked up at his mother. "Just talking to Fred," he answered.
"I'm right here, silly!" came Freddie's little voice as he peered around his father's leg to look at his cousin.
"Freddie has been downstairs, Al," Harry told him.
Albus gave his father an exasperated look. "Not that Fred," he explained. "The one that looks like Uncle George. But with both ears."