The very first memory Percy Ignatius Weasley had of his mother, was the face of anguish. It should not be the face to greet a young child, no matter how displeased a mother was. But it was not hatred hidden under the anguish facade.
No. It was guilt.
Because Percy Ignatius Weasley should not be born when the world was not made for him.
When his world was not ready.
22 August 1976
A woman with long ginger red hair was evidently having a difficulty in breathing. Molly Weasley (née Prewett) was holding her protruding mid-section with difficulty. I'm not due in for another three weeks.
But she knew, she could feel it, her water will broke. The stress had been accumulating in her body that she couldn't stand it anymore. But however she wished to deliver, she couldn't. Her situation right now is not exactly ideal. It was far from it.
Ashes were rising from the floor. The smell of burning, and the flying dirt, were thick. The heavily pregnant witch was hiding herself in an almost crumbling building, -it was once a house, she didn't know whose, but she knew that once upon a time the house was lively with the sound of little children laughter. She could see the evident of it from many frames that consist of family portraits, in the trashed-and-burning living room she was right now. The house was once inhibited by a large family of five. But not anymore.
Yes, it was a time of war. It was unfortunate that the war started when she was four-months pregnant. And the reason she was currently residing in a dangerous place waiting to crumble, was because she was hiding.
Earlier that morning, while Arthur gone for work in the ministry, she was overcome by the feeling of tightness in her chest. She thought it must be one of her morning sickness, that came at the end of her third trimester of pregnancy. Unable to care for her two robust young children with her light-headed and the feeling of lurching her breakfast for the third time, she decided to visit her Prewett home to drop Bill, a four years old and Charlie, a two years old to their maternal grandparents.
The plan was going smoothly. She kissed her brothers Fabian and Gideon on the cheeks, and bid her children goodbye. She decided to go back the different way she came, not Floo, but traveling because suddenly she felt so full of energy. The road back home she spent on reminiscing on the memories she had growing up in her childhood village. The people in her village were friendly; occasionally trading pleasantries, asking about her due, and in general giving a warm greetings. Experiencing that, Molly patted her bulging belly warmly. She had a soft smile on her face, thinking about her third child that she would care in the same affectionate way that her parents had granted her.
She continued on her journey. There were now thick trees at the either sides of the road. The next village was in another thirty minutes. However, something... felt off. It was too.. quiet.
Fear started to lurk from the inside of her mind. She heard about the stories. She had read them from the news. Merlin, she even read about the newest attack from that morning Daily Prophet. But they shouldn't be here, her mind said. That attack.. was far from here. But her heart knew.
With a new feeling of vigilant, she cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself. She would trust her heart, she would not risk being clumsy even though she was eight months pregnant. But something popped into her mind. Bill and Charlie!
The turning of her feet was too fast, she almost stumble down. But she can't calm herself. With an energy she didn't knew she had, she started to run. But it was hard. She couldn't exactly run. The most she could do was waddling quickly. Her thought raced at alarming rate. No! Mum! Dad! Fabian! Gideon! It was weird, there was still not a single attack in her sight, but she felt danger. While continuing on going back to the Prewett house, she heard a rustling from the right side of the road.
There, the skull symbol was floating in the sky.
It was weird. It was jarring. To see the green skull in her hometown that she thought was safe. Molly stopped her track to see what was going on. From the rustling in the trees, she could finally see, in between the tree trunks, several figures donning in black cloaks.
They let out a howl. Funny now that she concentrated, the laugh was too laud. Their wands were drawn, and she could see, -with trepidation-, three people were floating above the cloaking figures. Are.. are they dea..?
The sight send shivers down her bones. Helplessly, she could only watch on, as the group of fascists past her by. Her feet felt stuck on the road, her will to run died down. Thankfully, she had the wit to cast the charm earlier, or... she didn't want to think.
Go... But however hard she will it, her feet won't moved. This fear had gripped her entire body and rendering her unable to move. She remembered the way the floating bodies were. So still and pale. Their eyes... She closed her own eyes. She remembered how the bodies' eyes were void of lives.
Molly Weasley didn't know how long she was planted on that place. But she was thankful her charm had not worn down. By the time she was able to move, she could see smoke rising from the direction of her childhood home. No...
Her spirit dying a little bit inside when she thought about what had happened.
Listlessly walking with tears streaming down on her face, she could only felt guilt building on. Why did I stop..? Why didn't I get there in time..? I could have warn them.. On and on that thought swirl in her mind. It took some times, but finally she was in front of her village gate.
And smoke continued rising to the sky. Burning houses, barns, gardens, lawns, just everywhere really; greeted her sight. There were some people sprawl on the dirt; bloodied, some with limbs awkwardly aligned, and some were even missing body parts. But one thing for sure, they were all dead.
It was scary how a hundred years place could turn into a disaster in just mere moments. But Molly urged herself to keep walking. She wanted to confirm it herself. She wanted to see her childhood home. So she walked.
Then she stopped. She stumbled. She felt down. And she cried. Long, and hard, .. and loud.
It took some time, but Molly Weasley finally stopped crying, and willed herself to rummage through the wreckage of Prewett home. Arthur must have heard about it at this time.
It was weird how calm she suddenly felt . She convinced herself that her brothers, -her twin brothers Fabian and Gideon-, were excellent wizards. They would not fall so easily.
There was a secret in the Prewett family. Prewett, -like Weasley-, was an ancient and pure-blooded family. And a family with a long standing in history, was constantly battling on how to pass down their inherited magic. The horror of pure-blood family was to see their family line died; either by death with no heir, or by time, -when magic power eventually weaken generation to generation, and slowly turning the members into Squib. The Prewett was a family with great tenacity. They had experimented with this hundreds of years ago, on how to create the most powerful heir in the family, so that their family name would continue to live on. Somehow the Prewett gained the ability to produce many offspring. And every few generation, there would be among the offspring, a member with outstanding magic.
The member with outstanding magic could be seen from their outer appearance. Like Weasley, Prewett had red hair for generations. However it was known among family members the darker the red, the more powerful their magic will be. But some heir don't show through the hair alone. Like her twin brothers, their hair were exceptionally fiery like fire, -a far difference from her own ginger hair-, but their eyes...
Molly trembled when remembering looking into her brothers' eyes. The magnificent blue.
Their blue eyes resembling that of blue jewel; Lapis Lazuli. Blue, like the color of the sky, they were deep and intense. At a glance, their eyes would seem like normal, but when your search for it, there were some golden strikes hidden in the blue irises. That color scared her somehow. They felt ancient, like a magic from the beginning of time; whirling with energy that waited to be unleash. Raw, and unforgiving.
But Molly also remembered, the words of her dad, how once upon a time there exist a person with eyes more powerful than that. His great-great-grandfather was the heir before.. and his eyes were half golden, half blue.
Perhaps because her brothers were twins, so the power split somehow. She didn't know for sure, and right now she didn't care. She just needed to find some evidence that her brothers were safe.
It was a difficult task for a heavily-pregnant woman to walk on the uneven ground. There were holes of different sizes, then some rumbles from collapsing buildings. She had to carefully wedge through, while minding her enormous stomach with difficulties. She already drenched her dress with profuse sweat when she doused the fire (with magic) from her parents' house. There were some torn in her dress when it was caught by the protruding sharp objects on the ground. Her face was already smeared with soot and dirt. It was a miracle how she could still calmly levitating things one by one to look for some clues, a message somehow, or even a sign.
More sweats drenched her back. Her right hand ached from waving the wand too much. She felt her magic straining from the overuse. Nevertheless, she bite her lips and put up with the hard work. Luckily, the house is not big. She smiled bitterly. The Prewett had lost some prestige over time. The accumulated wealth had dwindled down long ago. But still, their name carried some weight, because of how powerful some heir in the past were. And Mum and Dad thought their name would revive with the birth of the twins. Thinking about the state of her childhood home, she felt like crying again.
A few minutes in, she found the charred bodies of her parents. Even though the bodies were burnt to dark messes,-she knew, it was her dad laying protectively on her mum, -even in his last breath he would be with her-, before both crumbled together when shot with the Unforgivable curses. Her heart clenched at the sight. Her eyes stung. She felt there was something clogging the center of her throat. She then look anywhere, -but not at the sight, in order to distract herself. Taking a breath, then twos, she carried on.
Having already explored the first floor, Molly then went upstairs. The doors of the rooms were busted from the outside. Smokes still rising from the doors and walls. The interiors were all a mess. After a long time searching that she felt like giving up, she look up when her neck strained so much from looking carefully.
There, on the ceiling, were hurried scratches made by wands.
'WE HAVE B AND C'
Her feet collapsed with relief. All energy drained from her body. .. Bill.. Charlie.. Fabian.. Gideon..
SEE YOU- TREE HOUSE
.. tree house. Molly chuckled despite of the miserable situation she was in. Looking up from the sitting position, she remembered the term Tree House the Prewett family used when referring to their main ancestral house, situated in Unallocated place surrounded by thick forest. It was hard though, to gain the access for the entry. They had to go to Gringotts, then went through some procedures. Molly hadn't know the reasons her brothers to choose that place to meet. Something must befall them. She then read the last line scrabbled on the ceiling.
1 YEAR
... we will meet in 1 year? Why? Are they going into hiding?
... is everyone going into hiding?
... what's going on?
Molly Weasley (née Prewett) didn't know what's going on.
However her mind was only numb for only a minute. In next instance, she already got back on her feet. Fabian and Gideon must know what they were doing.
With a new determination, she started to move.
.
.
The fireplace was wrecked to point of no return. She had no Floo powder to use in the surrounding houses. Her magic was too strain to use Apparation. In the first place, heavily pregnant witches were advised not to use apparition for fear the child they carried could split from the inside, effectively killing both the child and mothers.
So Molly Weasley had no way but to walk back home.
It is the third village. That was the situation she was in. It was the third village; and everywhere her sight landed, disaster met her eyes. It was only now that the term war sunk into her mind.
This is not war, it's slaughter. She sobbed quietly. She couldn't be caught making a noise. She didn't know whether the follower of Dark Lord would still be near. She didn't want to be caught by the fascists that would torture or murder anyone that opposed to their ideals.
Molly was ashamed to admit this, she thought their family would be safe because they were pure-blooded. She thought only the Mud-bloods, only the Muggble-born wizards and witches would be killed without discrimination, because that was the ideology of this group of terrorists, for the world to exist only for the Pure-blooded. What Molly just realized now, any witches and wizards who don't hold the same ideology as them would also be seen as enemy. Doesn't matter if they have long standing in history of magic, any family who didn't take a stance and sided with Lord Voldemort would instantly be seen as opposing the fraction. And this group, a bunch of crazy witches and wizards would not even hesitate to use Dark Magic, Dark Artifacts and even Unforgivable Curses to torment their victims.
If only I knew. Yes, if only she knew the followers of Dark Lord would start their attack boldly in the middle of the day, at a place where lots of wizards and witches resided, throwing curses as if they didn't fear the death themselves, and using powerful magic so sudden no one had any thought to counterattack back. If only she knew how much of terrorists and fascists they were.
Molly Weasley felt so tired. The day started to get dark. A long time had passed when she last had her meal. And the fact that her mid-section continuing to send pulse of contracting every few minutes didn't help.
She knew what this meant. She already experienced it two times in the past.
Why now? With great difficulty, Molly Weasley find a shelter to prepare herself to give birth. She was not ready. Not like this. It was three weeks too early. She was alone, and her surrounding was thick with the smell of Death.
.. Rumble.. rumble..
The wall she leaned on crumbled a little bit.
This thing won't last long.. she thought. But she couldn't care much. Because something much important was happening.
... heeve..
.. hoo.
.. heeve.
She tried breathing carefully. Taking a big breath .. heeve.. and let it out .. hoo. The dust around her flying around forming a suffocating cloud. A wave of pain kept assaulting her middle; working to push something out of her body. Muscles cramping and trusting. Legs wide apart to give an opening. Hip bones felt like breaking,
.. he's coming..!
She knew what she need to do. Silencio, she muttered, as she pointed her wand to herself. And then she pushed. Yes, she pushed.
...!
There was no one besides her. No one even knew what's happening to her right now.
...!
She pushed again.
...!
It was tiring. She could feel the energy for pushing draining her life away. And yet, the muscles continued to push.
...!
She was alone giving birth in the dark. Surrounded by crumbled walls, and the suffocating smell of Death. Ashes were rising from the ground. The feeling of hysterical was starting to make an appearance.
Why.
Why.
Why.
Why.
Why. She sobbed.
And then she could feel it. The crown of the head. So she steadied the wand again in her sweaty shaky hand. Breaking herself from her own spell. And casted,
.. Silencio.
Without anyone knowing of the baby's existence aside from his mother, he was born in a dark. It was cold. It was dingy. It was filled with soot and dust. And there was a feeling of high tension in the air.
She sobbed for the fate of her child. Percy Weasley was born in a way no baby should be born.
He was born silently.
18 October 1976
Molly Weasley felt guilty. She felt like there was something wrong with their bond as parent and child, when she rarely heard him cry.
"Hush baby, hush... don't you cry.."
"Everything is alright.."
"Mummy is here for you.."
She tried shushing the little baby in her arms, even when he was still sleeping peacefully. But it had become like a lullaby to him. He continued to sleep.
"Hush baby, hush..."
When their hiding was found, she needed to run again. She needed to be quiet. She needed her child to be quiet.
"Hush.."
When the fighting was required in life threatening situation, she needed to place him somewhere safe so he won't be discovered.
"Hush baby, hush... don't you cry.. Mummy is here for you.. mummy is here.."
She repeated the words to her babe, like a mantra that would keep him safe.
".. mummy is here.. hush, baby"
But it seemed like the mantra work so well.
".. hush, baby.."
Percy Weasley was never fussy when he needed be. He was a well-behaved child. He never act in a way that would cause anyone to worry.
".. it's alright"
Not even when the sound of something exploding was near. Or the sound of someone screaming in anguish was heard. Or the sound of someone laughed and shout in all sense of craziness; would be able to stir the quiet baby.
"... mummy is here.. mummy is here.. "
Percy Weasley was a perfect child to have, when you were on the run with your life hanging on the thread. He never cause a case to worry. And because of that, Molly Weasley worried.
"... ooh Merlin.."
"oooh. ..I'm sorry.."
"I'm so sorry Percy dear.."
In a world where she was unable to hear her baby's voice, it was a world of silent for the sake of survival; she knew it was not ideal to have a new addition in her family during the time of fighting and running.
Yet all she could do was hope that her baby could survive. Thus she repeated again,
"Hush baby, hush.. don't cry.."
"...mummy is here for you.."
She rarely heard his voice. And she was sorry for the life she gave him.