ICN: I'm not sure but I think Molly ends up being Minister for Magic in the future. Actually... I'm pretty damn sure.
HAIR: red.
EYES: blue.
WAND: ebony, dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches.
Molly Weasley pushed her glasses up her freckled nose as she gazed around the Great Hall with interest. She had been watching, constantly watching, from the moment she had extricated herself from her parents' arms on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Drawing herself up in front of her impossibly proud father, the short but fearless little girl had saluted him solemnly, receiving an equally solemn response before he had caught her up in a tight hug.
"Learn lots, Molly, and be good," he had whispered into her mop of short, thick hair, before passing her to the rather tearful woman next to him. Molly had hugged her mother and her silent, pixie-like little sister with real affection, but that didn't mean she couldn't wait to get onto the train.
She'd sat with Victoire and poor, shy Abigail Dursley for the train journey. Abby was a bit like Molly, plain and not generally liked or included by other children. However, where Molly was energetic and decisive, Abby was quiet and lacked confidence. None of Molly's family except Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny and their children had met the Dursley girl before Abigail had received her Hogwarts letter out of the blue, but Uncle Harry was keen for them all to welcome his cousin's daughter into the fold. Molly had heard her parents discussing the situation; apparently, Abby's Dad Dudley was a muggle and he'd married a squib, Gloria, whom he'd met whilst staying with Uncle Harry and visiting Diagon Alley. No one had expected Dudley and Gloria's child to be magical, so the Hogwarts letter had been a shock for everyone. Molly thought that Abby might look a bit happier about it; at least she didn't have to attend a boring muggle high school.
The trip across the lake had been fantastic, like something out of a Beedle the Bard story, although some irritating boy by the name of Finnigan had kept leaving scorch marks on the bench with his wand and teasing her when she huffed in disapproval. Molly had promised herself that she would practice her hexing skills on him once she knew some good ones.
She tore her eyes away from the runes carved into the stone mantelpiece of the fireplace nearby, suddenly aware that there were only two people left waiting in front of her. Glancing out across the four house tables, Molly's eyes fell upon the Gryffindor table. Abby had been Sorted into that house but she'd looked so pale and sick that Madam Pomfrey had taken her into an antechamber to lie down until Sorting was finished. Molly couldn't understand how the Hat had mistaken her for a lion. She had no idea what the silly girl was so frightened of anyway, but Vic had glared at her when she'd said so out loud on the train. Victoire and Teddy were sitting next to each other at the Hufflepuff table. Teddy might have had neon pink hair but Vic was even more luminous, her childhood prettiness transforming slowly into an otherworldly loveliness as she floated through her fourteenth year.
An article had been published over the summer which claimed that Teddy and Victoire had been kissing a lot at the Quidditch World Cup. Molly hadn't been there but she'd asked Victoire if the article's claims were true and Vic had looked mortified, instantly denying that anything was going on between her and her best friend. Molly sniffed in disapproval. That Rita Skeeter lady was a liar and lying was simply wrong. Besides, the article had caused a tension between Vic and Teddy which was awkward to behold. Vic was playing with her hair, frowning, and Teddy appeared intensely focused upon chatting flirtatiously with a giggling brunette on his other side, his Prefect badge sloppily pinned sideways to his robes. Molly narrowed her eyes. If she were ever lucky enough to be made Prefect, she would keep her badge polished and straight all the time; Daddy would be so proud.
She scowled as she watched Vic absentmindedly plaiting her shimmering hair. She was a rather plain girl herself and mostly this didn't bother her, but she always got a little bit jealous looking at her beautiful part-Veela cousins. Even her own spindly little sister was a pretty thing, just like their mother with soft blonde hair and wide, dark green eyes; but that wasn't so bad because Lucy was annoying and generally rather weird, in Molly's opinion. If only Vic were easier to dislike. At that moment, Victoire looked up and gave a beatific smile as she saw that Molly was second in line to be Sorted; dropping the plait, she gave a double thumbs-up to her younger cousin before nudging Teddy and muttering something to him. He looked up and beamed at Molly, echoing the thumbs-up gesture. The little girl grinned despite herself and looked back at the Hat as the girl in front of her, Esmeralda Warrington, strode forward. There was a moment of hesitation before the Hat decided on Slytherin. The girl grinned and hopped off, practically skipping to her cheering table.
Molly started as 'Weasley, Molly' was called and she stepped forward, staring reverently at the old hat Professor Vector was holding. It hung limply from her light grip, looking deceptively inanimate. Molly smirked to herself as she slid onto the stool; she knew for a fact that she was going into Ravenclaw. She was clever and curious. Hufflepuff simply wasn't an option, she was sure that she was too much of a Weasley for Slytherin, and as for Gryffindor… well, she wasn't enough of a Weasley for Gryffindor.
She thrummed with confidence as the Hat was dropped onto her head, waiting for the ancient artefact to pronounce her a Ravenclaw through and through. Her mouth dropped open as the Hat's equally confident voice rang out:
"GRYFFINDOR!"