Defying Moments
Author's Note: Originally published on March 10, 2011
A quiet Burrow seemed strangely unnerving.
But when the silence was broken by muffled shouts from the garden, joyous and carefree, it made her smile. It was the first time she had truly smiled since losing her son weeks ago.
She was so used to the grim desperation of the past years that it felt odd to smile, to feel happiness. She realized in that moment why the eerie hush affected her so deeply. It was laughter that usually filled the walls of her home, a sound which had slowly faded away as the war cast a larger shadow on their world.
That profound sense of loss hit her strongly as she recalled all of the years they had in this home, when her family had been whole. Fred and George's antics were as part of the Burrow as the very walls holding it up. It was this tragic loss of more innocent times that pained her deeply.
She was fiercely proud of Fred's sacrifice. She was proud of all of her children for standing up against evil and hatred to keep their world safe and just. Her devastated, aching heart disagreed.
As her vision clouded with tears, she couldn't help but think of how naively she'd assumed that building this home, this place of love and security, would be a symbol of her biggest personal defiance. Not only had it been a way for her to stand up to some of her well-to-do relations, who'd looked down on poor Arthur, but it'd allowed them to create something wonderful amidst the dark days of Voldemort's first reign.
Each plank of wood represented a small victory in her eyes, against the odds facing them during such a tumultuous period. They had been determined to build this home, as peculiar as it was, and to create a foundation for their lives together.
Back then, she didn't understand what real defiance and sacrifice truly meant. To lose a child was something that would leave a permanent scar on her family, but if there was any consolation, she knew Fred wouldn't have wanted it any other way. None of her brave children would stand by when their way of life was being threatened.
She heard Ginny's laugh ring out, and her stomach clenched, reliving how close she had come to never hearing it again. Everything was a blur, but Molly was certain that in killing Bellatrix, she'd gone against her core nature to love and nurture. She would do it again in a heartbeat, to protect her children from the monsters that tried to harm them.
No, taking a life and fighting the overwhelming evil they'd faced, and defeated, was now her ultimate act of defiance. It was one that she would gladly live with.
Two sides of a galleon, building and destroying, yet both done with the same purpose. Molly knew this, grateful that her moments of defiance were done to shelter and protect.
She could do no less for those she loved.