Chapter 14 Happy Christmas For All
Another chapter so soon! But this one will have to last for a bit because I'm revising the new original work this summer. And then typesetting at least one other one so I can put out a print edition.
But I do have to some more chapters in first draft zone. I'll have to do another NaNoWriMo off my outline for this…
Thank you so much, Bluewater5 for being such a helpful beta!
The Burrow rang with the sounds of Christmas cheer. Bill Weasley didn't want to stand in for his father but knew was necessary. Mum needed him to be strong today. He hoped she would take him aside in private sometime and let him howl if he wanted to. Funny how someone over a foot shorter than he was turned out to be stronger. He caught the glint of moisture in everyone's eyes as they played their parts.
Every once in a while, they forgot to mourn and simply enjoyed the moments, only to remember a second later. Everyone roared with laughter when Percy somehow pranked both the twins at the same time with their own Canary Creams. I'll have to take him out to a pub without Charlie around to blow his top. And do the same for Charlie, without Percy. I was old enough when Percy came not to mind so much, since I'd already been displaced by Charlie. But Charlie was the baby for several years. He vaguely remembered Mum being sick and weepy a few times before Percy arrived, but decided he never wanted the details of why.
Charlie never quite forgave Percy for showing up at all. And then Percy was shoved aside by the twins, Ron, and Ginny. He was made to mind them more often than he should have been. Bill was glad he was old enough to go to primary school by then, and Charlie not long after.
Bill knew that he needed to have talks with Ron and Harry. Maybe even with Ginny. He was glad Ron had someone on his side now. Ginny always had Mum, and the twins learned fast not to try anything on her. But Ron was always the twins' practice dummy till they went to Hogwarts. He hopes the twins didn't keep that up now that Harry and Miss Granger were on his brother's side.
The pudding came in. His mother automatically cut the right number of pieces plus one. Bill decided not to say anything. She would realize her mistake soon enough. Or maybe it wasn't a mistake. Old Nanny Ogg took me aside and told me not to make a fuss. She would honor the year for Dad, but after it would be free to do what she wanted. "Make sure anyone new respects the family, but don't drive him off," the old bat had said. "Your mum would follow your wishes, but she'd hate you for making her choose. Do you want her unhappy?"
"No, Nanny," he'd said. The hat she wore had a dozen or more pins in it, and Bill was certain he would feel all of them in the worst places if he argued. Well, Mum had good taste and probably wouldn't bring someone home they would hate anyway.
Besides, Mum probably cut a piece for Dad. Or maybe even Miss Granger. They didn't fight so much after last summer when she was sick, and Mum could feed her up. Ron needs someone like that to look after him. I should play chess with him and let him take me to the cleaners. I need to do something special with all of them, really.
Molly handed out the pudding. This year she'd taken things out of the Monopoly game, so every slice had something in it and not just the usual. She smiled to herself as she remembered how much Arthur enjoyed the muggle game and was so happy when he talked the children into playing it. Oh, if only Arthur was home, she'd make sure he got the anchor to make him stick close to home, she thought. Now she had no idea who would get what. Maybe that was for the best.
So far she'd kept from weeping. With all the children here, she'd kept a brave face, and if she had to run to the kitchen to check on a goose which was already on the table, only the sink would know her grief.
She ate a bite of the pudding and pronounced it good. The brandy in it warmed her heart and so did the cherries which had soaked in it as well. Perhaps she'd sleep well tonight for a change instead of longing for the touch she'd never feel again. With Bill in the house, she could drop some of her burden on him. Molly made a mental note to see each one of her children where they could mourn out loud for a bit with nobody else the wiser. Sitting in Arthur's seat and having him carve was a bit much to ask, but he was the eldest.
She saw the glint of silver peeking out from her crumbs and pulled it out. "Aha, the cat! Sounds like I'll be snug at home curled up in a chair." Applause went around the table.
The others searched for their token. Ron ended up with the hat. "But I'm already well dressed," he said.
"I know," she said softly. "No more hand-me-downs, ever."
Harry looked sober when he found the Sickle. "This family is all the riches I ever wanted."
Always remember you are one of us now," Percy said, but in a kind way, not a condescending one.
Too bad the goblins never hired him, Molly thought. Load his desk with a dozen ledgers and he'd be as happy as the pigs with a new trough of feed.
Bill smiled when he found the button. "No wedding bells for me this year. Just as well, the goblins want me to be a journeyman first." Molly wasn't worried. Love would catch up to him one of these days.
Percy held up a pewter Scottie dog. "I told you I was loyal."
"Ruin all our fun—" said Fred, who grimaced at his thimble. "Does this mean I have to take up sewing?"
"—Wouldn't hurt if you did. Katie won't have time this year, not at her camp." George grinned. "Look, a wishbone! Time to bet on the pools again."
"Like you ever stopped!" His twin laughed.
Ginny squealed when she found the broom. "Ron, you have to let me play Seeker more often!"
Charlie didn't look happy when he found the anchor. Molly leaned over to him. "I know your home is with the dragons now," she said.
Everyone looked at the uneaten piece, which had to contain the ring. "I'll lay that one on your father's grave with you watching, if you like," she said.
Her second son sighed, while Bill had a funny look on his face. She'd find out what worried them before they left. Later on, she'd visit Arthur by herself. For now it was enough to have the rest all around this table.
Late that night, once she was sure everyone was down if not asleep, she crept to the back of the garden with the remaining piece. It was clear where Arthur lay even without a headstone. The ground sagged just a bit there, outlined by frost.
A good thing she had her winter coat with several Warming Charms on it. One would think her blubber would do the trick without them. Poppy had told her once that her body ran cooler than most and would for several more years yet. Then the mediwitch warned her that she would look back on this as paradise once her body began to run both cold and hot. "I lived on Cooling Charms for years till that time finally faded. Up here I only needed to open a window and hope the patients don't freeze. Poor Severus had the sweats happen to him once with the potions the Swiss are giving him, and I tried so hard not to laugh…" her friend had said.
Molly let herself return to the present while tears rolled down her face. Arthur would have teased her. It was a running joke about how he claimed he wore socks to bed to protect himself against the blocks of ice she put in bed next to him.
It had been a joke. That part was over now, perhaps forever. She longed for him next to her at night in ways her children probably didn't want to know.
She set the plate with the pudding on his grave. "Arthur, this is a pledge from me. There will never be anyone like you in my life. I wish I could promise to be loyal lifelong, but…even the Muggles have 'til death do us part'. You will have your year, my beloved. Maybe past that. But you called me 'my dirty mare' for a reason. Maybe my heels won't be so round since I'm older…oh, Arthur my King, I miss you so!"
Molly burst into sobs. That empty bed would be so hard! It was a good thing Nanny Ogg told her about her own experiences. "You're lucky this place has that tradition, darling," the old woman had said. "A few times I had men sniffing after me when the last one was barely cold. I didn't always turn them down. Sometimes it worked out all right, but mostly it caused more trouble than I wanted. Think hot thoughts all you want and use your hands."
That had made her laugh at the time, and she'd told Nanny about the special shower that Poppy had in her quarters.
The old woman's eyes had gone wide. "Will wonders never cease? You should put one in here, love, and people won't mind you being clean!"
"Not just yet. With the children here, there's barely enough water for the pigs. Maybe later…"
Molly sighed in the darkness and the cold by her husband's grave. "Oh, Arthur! Bill tries so hard to be in your place. I know his heart is breaking, too. I must go back to the house and make enough noise to scare anyone sneaking into the kitchen—but the ring in this pudding is yours. And always will be, even if I put on another someday."
She slowly stood and turned away. It wrenched her heart to do so. She had a living family to watch over at least till Christmas was done.
"I wonder why I got this catalog? It's all potions' ingredients. Maybe I should leave it in the potions room for Snape," Harry said.
"Let me have a look," Ron said. "Maybe the three of us can save some if we pool our money and get our stuff here for the next couple of years." Both were up in the room after dinner, admiring their presents and trying not to go to sleep right away.
Harry was glad everyone seemed happy with what they got from him this year. Mrs.—Mum had loved the blue and white cushion for her rocking chair, Ron had whooped out loud when he saw the Keeper's mask and the lettering on it, while Ginny had rubbed the gloves up against her face as if they were kittens. He looked at the present he'd gotten by owl from Hermione. He could think of lots of things to do with that board on wheels, and so could Ron. Both knew they didn't dare try any of them out here, though.
He'd laughed along with everyone else when Percy had pranked the twins with the Creams he'd been given. The twins had been good sports about it and cleaned up the extra feathers once they'd turned human again. He knew who the twins had wanted Percy to prank at the Ministry, too. Harry wondered if food coloring in the mix for the Creams would work on a certain toad, and decided he'd better ask before trying it himself.
Then Ron whistled out loud. "Oh, Harry! You have to go down to the Chamber again and see if anything's left! Anything made from dead basilisk goes for the moon and ten percent."
Harry looked over the pricelist and his own eyes went wide. "But it says they have to be 'properly prepared' and I don't know what that means."
Ron grimaced. "We could bribe a couple of the Ravenclaws if Hermione can't do it," he said.
Harry thought about that. "We'd have to find out exactly what the catalog people want. And we would have to take their word for it what prices are fair for them to pay us. Hermione's not supposed to take anything extra on this year."
His friend's face fell as he clearly realized just what Harry had. "If all three of us did the work while the greasy git told us what to do, and he talked to them about prices for us…"
"He'd still want part of it for that much work," Harry said. "He would have to swear he was being fair, or something. We'll have to tell the Headmaster, too. But Snape couldn't go down there without me opening the door anyway. Maybe I can leave Winky a note and ask her to give it to him?" He looked at Ron. "You know any money from this is going to go here, right? I never would have noticed the basilisk stuff without you. And…if we keep this money out of Gringotts then nobody can say the family is leaning on me for it. This is even better than paying the twins too much because people like the Toad might find out. You should get a share too, since you'll be cutting up horrible things along with me."
Ron shrugged. "I still think I should get a job after this year is over. My OWLs weren't that bad. I'll have to work for someone besides my brothers because they won't pay family as much as they would anyone else."
"Let's see how much this turns out to be first," Harry said. "Besides, who's going to warn me about spiders the next time we get chased out into the Forest? We're a team. Maybe Snakeface will get it this summer, but maybe not."
Ron looked thoughtful then. "Yeah, there's always that. I just hope Hermione is better by the time he tries to come after us again. I'm pretty happy to be Keeper while you're Seeker. Both of us can watch the whole field if we like."
"It'd be just our luck to have something happen while I'm after the Snitch and you're trying to grab the Quaffle, though." Harry snorted.
"What else is new?" Ron put down the catalog and picked up the new mask. "Have to thank you again for this one. Nothing like a stray Bludger or Quaffle gone wrong to make the old trout at the infirmary look at me like I'm an idiot…"
"She doesn't even try with me any more."
"Yeah, we need to move your dorm bed in there," his friend said with a laugh. "But think of me having to be Snape's assistant once we're back! It'll be permanent detention!"
"Like that's different from all the other times?"
"But that's your job!"
They both laughed.
Molly spread her talks out so she didn't just have everyone lined up at her sewing-room door. Charlie had to go back first, so on Boxing Day he sat gingerly on the couch while she was in her rocking chair. The cushion—how did Harry know which colors Arthur liked so much? But it eased her back and rear better than the old, worn one.
"Charlie, love, would you rather go on a walk with me? I know it's cold, but we can wrap up," she said. "You look like I was going to tell you off for fighting again," she said.
"I wouldn't mind that," he said, with a look of relief on his face.
Well, if he bawled like a calf being weaned, he could do it where nobody could hear. She stood up and threw on her winter coat, along with a heavy scarf and the barn boots. Charlie hit himself with a Warming charm, and then, his face looking sad, he gave her one as well. "I, I can't be Dad, but I remember he always did that for you…" His voice was already breaking.
She gave him a quick hug before they left the room. "And it's a good thing, since I feel the cold more than anyone here."
They went outside towards the barn with the pigs. A couple of paths were already tramped into the few inches of snow which had fallen the night before. "How cold is it in Romania, Charlie? The only time we've gone has been in summer."
"A lot colder than this, except when you get near the dragons," he said. "Their breath keeps most of the yards warm. You wouldn't believe how big Hagrid's dragon, Norberta, is getting! Why, she'd swallow down all the pigs here at once if she could. The older ones don't have her appetite unless they're about to lay eggs, but the growing ones would keep even you on your toes in their kitchen. Mostly it's paid for by the scales they shed in springtime, and even by their toenails. Snape would go spare at what we throw away, to be honest…" He looked thoughtful.
"I think it would be awfully nice if you packed up some of that and sent it to the school," Molly said. "I've always thought it was him who came up with the potions that finally helped your father when that awful serpent bit him and it took so long for him to heal. I'm no expert, but if you're tossing it out anyway…"
"Huh. I only paid attention then when Bill made me, but you're probably right. Snape yelled at me the way you sometimes do when I'm about to do something really stupid. Made me feel right at home," he said with a short laugh. "Bill had some fun ideas when some older Gryffindors told him about the pranks that got pulled on Snape while he was a student, but I think Dad pulled him aside and told him to not even think about doing anything. And a couple of people tried, but he had eyes in the back of the head like you do. Made me glad I never did anything!"
"You need to know something about one the promises your father made him," Molly said as they wandered around the property. "It's about some of the Snakes who are even in more danger than we are. If Snape dies, we might have a few houseguests you won't like."
His face twisted. "If there's one thing Percy was right about, it's keeping open house for the world. One of the things I like about Romania is that I have my own place I don't have to share with anyone."
"I know, love, and I'm sorry," Molly said. "But just think of young Malfoy having to feed the pigs. It'll be good for him, don't you think?"
He laughed out loud then. "I wouldn't mind seeing that! Make sure he gets Kelly, she likes to dump on your shoe if she thinks you're not paying attention. But it's hard to think of those Snakes needing any help."
"Love, if you knew I had to go see You-Know-Who every few weeks and I might not come back any of those times, wouldn't you worry a bit?"
"Oh." He kicked at some snow. "Yeah, I can see that. Even that rotten bunch probably cares about their parents some. Makes a person wonder if Lord Thingy hates them, too, from what I hear he puts his followers through."
"That's not the silliest thing I've ever heard," Molly said. She should write that one down. "Maybe he didn't have a good time when he was in Slytherin and decided to pay back everyone."
"Maybe it's a bad idea for any of ours to beat up on them," Charlie said. "It was fun knowing the Headmaster hates them, too." He looked thoughtful. "And maybe I'm going to be happy to be in Romania. No matter what happens, there'll be at least me left to start things over again." Then his face crumpled and then he did howl in anguish. "Oh, Mum, who's going to die next?"
"I don't know," she said quietly, and hugged him. "I don't know. But you could bring Norberta back to see old friends someday, right?"
He swallowed hard. "How am I to know in time? Dragons don't do Floos or Portkeys."
"No, I imagine not," she said, still holding him. "And he won't send out invitations with fancy printing on them, either. How long does it take to fly a dragon this far?"
"Almost a week. I'll have to think about this," he said.
"So will I," she said wryly. He put his finger right on it, though—if things go bad, he'll still be alive. And how will I shove Ginny into the Floo for Lancre? She won't go any more than I would.
They hugged like that for a while, a warm embrace against the cold around them. Then Charlie abruptly moved out of it. "Mum, you're to tell me if you need help. I know Bill worked out the figures and he would tell me if you did. But don't stop buying anything for yourself, all right? A few dragon scales could go missing and nobody would know but me. I'd only send you the ones which were going to be thrown out anyway."
"There's a good lad," she said as they began to go back to the house. "I know you have to go back, but you can yell at me through the Floo more often than you do. It's not like I can't bear it, lad, and you have to get it out somehow. I'm the first one to blow my top anyway."
"I know. Dad could always get us both calmed down better than anyone, but you, you understand. I have to be calm around the dragons, they pick up whatever we feel, but some days…"
"Oh, yes, I know all about those days! Now, just imagine me letting those little Slytherins have it…"
He grinned. "That's the one thing that makes it all right for me. And don't forget about the pigs!"
"I never do, lad, I never do." They went back to the house. Later that day she saw him off, but not without a hamper of something to eat that smelled like home.
Then it was Bill's turn. She had him come into the office to look at the books for her one more time and to make sure she understood what she could spend and what she couldn't. Then she put up a Silencio that would hide the noise of a volcano. The ratty old couch in there nearly bowed with both their weight on it, and then she said, "Bill, you had to be in his place all this week. Let it down for a bit. I'm still your mum, and if you can't cry on my shoulder, where can you?"
It took him a moment to completely understand what she was saying, and another moment before the tears came. The weight of his head on her was heavy, but not more than she could bear. "It's not right!" he cried once he could form words again. "It's too soon…I mean, in my head I thought he might die before you did, but not now. I can pretend everything is all right at work, but at the table—at the table, I had to keep up a good face, but…" Then he blubbered some more.
Once he was cried out, he had a handkerchief of his own to mop up. "Oh, mum. Even the goblins are nicer to me, sort of, since he died. I mean, as nice as goblins ever get. I almost had to yell at them to give me something hard to do to keep my mind off things. And they smiled! That was just scary. Turned out I guessed the one thing that they do when they grieve. I was paid back for that by the tomb I did late last month. I had to do two weeks' worth of showers after that one. But I made it through and if I blasted things a bit harder than usual, well, the manticore never saw it coming anyway." He laughed.
"And between your lists and mine, I've done up a paper that shows everything owed, even the house payment. I had a bit of bonus coming after the manticore, and I've set it aside just in case something happens that's not on it. You will tell me if you need it, right?" he said.
"Of course, dear." And if she crossed her fingers, she hoped he didn't see it.
That session was a bit shorter, as they both took refuge in the numbers. She really did have enough and more to carry her before Arthur's pension would start coming in, and her payment book to record anything going out against it. She almost blessed that manticore for being there for Bill to blast; she was sure that helped a lot. I wonder what I can find to blast?
She told him about Arthur's promise to Snape, and he didn't look happy either. "I wish Father hadn't made that promise," he said honestly.
Molly told him about the time they'd found Snape on their front step. "He dances with death to keep us safe," she said. "Should we back off at having a few of theirs here? Charlie thought the idea of young Malfoy feeding the pigs was worth it just for that."
Bill snorted. "Even that doesn't cheer me up. But if they're here, that means the professor is dead and that's going to be a bad day for the Order. Even Moody's finally agreed with that part."
"And we may end up having Order meetings here if the other house fails. Up to being Secret Keeper?"
"Maybe my being out of the country so much won't be such a bad idea then," he said. "Why not Dumbledore?"
"He's over a hundred if he's a day. About time some of the burden landed on younger bones."
He grimaced. "True. First they would have to find me. But I'm in a dangerous line of work. Maybe you should do it instead. I never heard of anything that said a person couldn't keep it for their own place. I'm willing for people to think it's me, though."
"Oh, that's not a good idea, love," Molly said. "That was tried in the last war and didn't work out so well. But let's hope Grimmauld Place stays intact first. Harry will be old enough to be Master in his own right this summer, and then we'll see."
On that bleak note they hugged once more before Bill had to leave.
A day or so later, she had the twins together on the couch in the sewing room. In a turn of events, she quizzed them about their finances. From what she heard from them, their records were mostly on little bits of paper literally floating around their shop. "You'd do better to have Bill or even Percy put them in one place," she said. "It's a sad day when my playing the pools can be read easier."
They both looked like whipped dogs, instead of protesting what she said. Then she said, "Make a space between you for me, lads." They complied and she sat between them. "I know it's hard," she said. "Now cry yourselves out and blow your noses after. You're not too big for that, I hope."
Old habits died hard and they did as she said. The effect was like that stereo thing little Hermione talked about sometimes, and that Arthur had learned how to do with a charm.
Of course, their hearts were broken no matter how little they showed it or covered it with their japes. There was a streak of cruelty in them which she wished she could kiss away, and hoped they didn't inflict on others in their sorrow. I wish I had been able to stop them before they killed Ron's pet, terrified him or burned a hole in his tongue, she thought. Whipping them got their attention, but Arthur and decided from then on that only Scabbers, who seemed able to survive them, would be the only pet. Although I suppose the ghoul is one, too. At least they have to climb all those stairs to try anything on it. I don't think I'll tell them about Arthur's promise. They would only want to know when those students were here to lay traps for them. I wish they weren't like that, but they are. "I want just one promise from you, lads," she said.
"Yes, Mum," they both said at the same time.
"Before you pull a prank on someone, think about how many people they will tell to stay away from your shop. And ask me if you think it's worth it. I won't mind some of the things you do and I could help with it. Your father had a sense of humor too. Ask yourself if he would do it. I want to be proud of you two, and not be embarrassed." She kept her voice soft and sad. That might get through when yelling clearly didn't.
They looked sober for once. She added one last thing. "And bring me all those pieces of paper. It'll be good practice for me to add things up and find out if you're actually making money."
They seemed intrigued by that. "We thought we were making enough to have both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, but we aren't," Fred said. "We found out we'd have to hire too many people during the busy season. So we're keeping the Diagon Alley shop and doing owl-order for the school. We might set up a stall during Hogsmeade weekends, but most of the school sales come during the times when they're free to go to the Alley anyway."
"Well, see? You have learned what to do there. But I would like to see those pieces of paper. It's that or I'll send Percy over to clean up your books," she said, only half-joking. "Now we know he's truly ours you can trust him."
George sighed and rolled his eyes. "Can we still yell at him?"
"Only if he deserves it. Remember, he's quicker witted than you think him, unless you let him get you with those Creams."
They both sighed, like leaking tires. "He's learning way too much from You-Know-Who—"
"—And probably from Snape. We never could get past him—"
"—Charlie said we were stupid to try—"
"—And Bill just smiled.—"
"See? You both learned from that. Now learn from Percy."
They both laughed, and so did she. Molly made a mental note to drop by their shop in the Alley and make good on her promise to look after those bits of paper.
Later during the holidays, she made a trip to the Ministry, ostensibly to pick up everything from Arthur's old office, but made a side trip. She first had a cuppa with Dolly, who seemed glad to lay down her Minister face for a bit. "Your son is everything I could ask for," she said, as she glanced at a small vase with flowers. "He's a dear boy and I don't know what I would do without him to organize my notes. Chasing after him is important—how he managed to get his people inside here needs to be looked at—but there's the rest of what we do, too. The Aurors' office has reactivated so many people into their organization that the rest of us are doing double or triple duty. You wouldn't believe what people have tried with imports thinking we don't have enough people to manage."
"I'm sure overcharging for goods that aren't actually there is just part of it," Molly said, who had heard some of the concerns already.
"Not half of it!" the other woman said. "We now have to test all of the shipment, not just samples, and that uses up more time we don't have. Meanwhile, things come in we don't even see till it's too late. We still haven't hired anyone to replace Arthur—" her voice caught. "The Muggles are just going to have to look after themselves till we do, and who knows what things are getting out of our control. There are rumors some of them are ending up on auction sites as joke products. We have a Muggleborn here who says he has to monitor sales, but I think he's just using it as an excuse to help his wife out with a new baby. He only come in for a few hours each day."
"Maybe he has to go to the auctions to find out what they're selling once he hears something," Molly said. "If he has to Apparate around Britain all day, he's likely knackered out."
"True. He doesn't seem well rested when he does come in," Dolly said. "But here I am talking your ear off when you really want to check on your boy. It's close enough to his lunch anyway. Don't even try to tell me you didn't bring any food." She managed an actual smile.
"How well you know me! I'll be along then. Sure you don't want some of it?"
"I would," her friend said wistfully. "It will just go to my hips, my waist, you name it."
"What? Why, you and I are just as thin as we were at Hogwarts!" Molly said. "I've heard my lads have come up with something called a Puking Pastille that'll take care of that."
Dolly made a face. "When I asked the healer about losing weight, she warned me against using them," she said. "No, you go along and feed that great lad. I'm on a potion now so I don't want to eat that much, though whatever you have smells wonderful."
Molly nodded. She didn't want to eat that much herself these days. Everything just tasted so dry. She liked soups more than solid food and knew some of her clothes felt looser than they used to be. Just as well she still had three of her lot at home to cook for, but that wouldn't last long.
Percy was glad to see her, and even happier that he could show it. After she put up a good Silencio, he told her he wouldn't lose anything with the other side either. "They somehow have the idea that I've fooled you all and now you'll tell me anything you know."
For a moment his face went still, like he remembered something painful. "I hope that didn't cost you too much, love," she said, sitting down across his desk from him.
"Just one bad evening and a lot of people laughing at me," her son said, his eyes bright again. "It was worth it to be a member of the family again."
"How did you manage to prank both twins at the same time?" she asked.
"I passed them the potatoes. There was only enough for the two of them left and they cleaned out the serving bowl."
"Well, that sounds simple enough," she said. "I brought some real food for you. Arthur's told me…well, he told me what the food in the canteen here is like. And I put up a strong Silencio, so you can have your own opinions."
His face screwed like he wanted to cry, but thought he was too old for it. "I have to walk past his office every day," Percy said in a whisper. "I can't stop looking in, just in case. I'll help you clean it out. Maybe then it won't be so bad."
"Oh, sweetheart, I never thought of that!" Molly said. "I couldn't face it either, that's why it's taken me so long to do it. But you have something to eat first. I know what kind of suppers people have in a flat by themselves, a pan of soup and some old bread for the sandwich."
"Moody comes over once a week, so there's more than that then," Percy said. "But I do more takeaway than is good for me, I suppose." He dove into the lunch his mother had made, kept piping hot by one of her spells. They both ignored the tears which ran down both their faces as they ate.
Her son seemed surprised by the empty plates. "I'm glad you ate well, too, Mum. I wish I could come over more often, but the Ministry and some other people keep me busy. Until recently I'd have some explaining to do, too."
"You are always welcome when you do," she said. "Charlie's already left, so if you want to drop by to let Ron whip you at chess, there won't be that problem."
"Thank you," he said, and then wiped his face. "Hogwarts starts up soon, so I'd better do it in the next few days."
Molly wishes he would weep on her shoulder the way the other boys had so far, but this was probably a bad place for it. Maybe when he stopped by to be with Ron and Harry, he could have his cry out then. She canceled her spell and packed up the lunch gear. Then they went to Arthur's office and picked up his office things. His desk was full of surprises, including a big envelopment with a big 'M' on it. She threw it in with the rest—if it belonged to the Ministry, she would have to know what it was to bring it back to the right department. Dolly Umbridge had enough on her desk to sink one of the boats that took the first years to Hogwarts. It was only right to take some of that burden off.
Percy's eyes leaked all the way through, as did hers as they picked up the things that were Arthur's out of the office. Her son asked in a wavering voice, "May I keep this?" It was a little yellow toy duck with a mustache drawn on it in dark ink.
"Of course," she said, and swallowed back a few tears of her own.
At last the packing was done and she levitated the box in front of her as she waved a temporary farewell to the Minister. Her son embraced her right in the middle of the hall and murmured a promise to visit while the youngest were still there.
As soon as she was home, she shoved the box into a closet because she couldn't look at it just now. Now she had three more to speak with. But not tonight. She was knackered out and barely had enough willpower to throw some more food on the table for the rest. Young appetites continued on through fire and blood, and there were still a few leftovers that didn't take much time to deal with.
Molly slept uneasily that night. Something told her she ought to go through the box sooner rather than later, but she would rather wait till the kiddies were back at Hogwarts. She knew she would have good reason to weep her way through it, and she didn't want to make the children feel they had to comfort her.
Hermione stood uneasily on the skateboard and held onto her ski poles. I was bad on the baby slopes, but I became better, she reminded herself. The floor still wasn't as hard as some of the ice patches she'd fallen on.
Then she realized she was an idiot. A few months ago, she'd received a letter from the Ministry which congratulated her on her 17th birthday sent by her most unfavorite Ministry official. She grinned to herself as she wondered who had to hold a wand on the toad to sign it! She remembered the paragraph on the bottom of it.
"Now that you are an adult, you may do magic outside of school. Please be responsible in that use and remember the Statute of Secrecy." That part had been followed by bureaucratic boilerplate of neutronium-level density. Hermione had read it with great interest in all the details but had been pleasantly surprised not to find any restrictions against 'dirty Mudbloods' or any possible equivalent.
Well. She took out her wand and cast a Cushioning Charm along her back and head. Hermione had been horrified by what she'd seen of Montague last year. Next time I won't ask if I see something that is wrong, she thought to herself. The Wizarding World will get tired of hating Slytherin eventually, and Gryffindor is likely to get the backlash five minutes after the Headmaster dies. Professor McGonagall was scary enough to be my Boggart, but I suspect that she won't frighten that many people without Dumbledore to back her.
She went back to balancing on the skateboard and thought wistfully of the soaring experts who had paraded outside the store. It was only a matter of time, though. She was good at skiing now but hadn't been when she started. Nothing like today to start.
Hermione became weary of just standing on it and pushed herself along on it on the carpet. She could always Reparo the ruts before her parents came home. She was aware of how her feet slid on the board, which made her anxious. A Sticking Charm might not let her maneuver as much as she would like. But all she really had to do was to pick the right pair of shoes, preferably trainers with good tread. Not everything had to be magical.
She stepped down, fixed the carpet, and then put the ski poles away. Maybe she should take some martial arts where she would learn how to fall right? Being dumped down the trap door into the Devil's Snare had been terrifying. To be honest, she was glad she'd been too Petrified to slide down into the Chamber of Secrets and didn't like the thought of having a vault that she had to ride down several floors to visit.
Hermione decided to think about that later. Perhaps she could manage the martial arts this summer, that is, if Voldemort and his minions didn't try to slice them up again. She still tired much more easily than she had in past years from what happened to her last spring. She loaded up a plate of leftovers from the refrigerator and sat down with a new book. It was nice to know she could sink into it for several hours and not have anyone bother her, not even Madam Pince. Her parents were out to a late dinner and dancing and might not return till midnight.
Out of impulse, she looked at the skateboard which she'd left near the chair. What could she do with it at Hogwarts? It would take only a few trips down the halls to get it on the banned list, but…there were so many empty ones to practice in. Outside had cobblestones, which she could see would be troublesome. She smiled and held out her hand. In a firm voice, she said, "Up."
It didn't work, of course. But neither had her broom at first. She planned to keep on working on it, just like finding her balance on it. We'll see who wins this time.
Hermione sat back and opened the volume. She had been quite pleased to find something right for her parents. It should have been called Wizarding 101 For Muggles, though the actual title was something ghastly in Latin instead. No doubt it gave away far too many state secrets for the Ministry's comfort. If she had no way to copy it otherwise, the machine in her parents' office should manage nicely. Besides, she wanted to add notes in ink about things the book got wrong or weren't true now.
Tomorrow night she would be the one to go out with a couple of her Muggle friends she hadn't lost track of over the years. Riding her broom made her want to dance, though she knew that gravity was not her friend when off it. She smiled to herself. I might drink a bit too much, too. I'll carry my wand where I can reach it easily, though. A bouncing Muggle club might prove too much temptation for stray Death Eaters to ignore.
But one of the gifts she wanted to give her parents was to be a Muggle girl, if only for a couple of weeks. She would have half a week to recover if she overdid things on New Year's Eve anyway. By the time she returned to Hogwarts, her parents would be able to complain to the others about listening to Green Day over and over again, just like their friends.
Several days later, Hermione had to admit to herself that she was terrible at being a party girl. She had enjoyed the drinking and dancing and occasional snogs in dark corners, but really hated the throwing up. Or being called on the carpet for same. She still had a reservation for New Year's Eve—if nothing else, if the Death Eaters decided to celebrate by attacking a club she was at, she could work off some feelings of her own with a few hexes—and really, one more night with Margie and Annabella wouldn't hurt. She would have only a few days after that before she returned to Hogwarts. I'll need to recover from this last party, she realized. I'm still not up to speed from before the Ministry fight. Mum almost saw my scar the other night when I came home drunk. If they ever find out what's really going on, they'll take me out of there and we won't be a Trio any more.
But she needed to stay home till then, if only so she could have more fun when she was out that one last night. While up in her room, she tried to make some statistical comparisons. The magical Ministry was much larger in percentage compared to the population in the Wizarding world than she thought the Muggle ministry was. She knew that her estimates were based on figures that she had no idea were true or not on the Wizarding side, and she wasn't terribly sure of her numbers on the Muggle side, either—an encyclopedia from 1990 didn't cover any changes in the years since. Plus, official numbers weren't always correct in the first place.
Still, she tried her best with what she had on both sides. Once out of Hogwarts, a witch or wizard could work for the Ministry, St. Mungo's or at Hogwarts. She wasn't sure how much of the population was engaged in commerce of any kind. Surely there had to be some behind the scenes people dealing with agriculture or industry. Unless the magical world is a parasite on the Muggle one, which is also possible, she thought. She also wondered how larger estates were hidden from the Muggle authorities. They could just be registered and taxed under a Muggle shell company. Of course, what wizards called large estates could actually be the size of a postage stamp as far as she knew. I wonder what the real population of the magical world is? And how has it changed in the past few decades? The infirmary is called the Hospital Wing when it's really rather small. There are a lot of abandoned classrooms at Hogwarts. The 1918 flu epidemic was devastating to the Muggle population here, but how bad was it for witches or wizards? Just from gossip, some of the families that used to be big don't even seem to have people going to Hogwarts now. She thought of something she could use to check. If there were yearbooks in the library at her school, she could glance through them and discover the sizes of classes over the years, maybe even centuries.
How has the secret been kept for so long? It's hard to believe that no families of the Muggleborn have ever gone to the Sun or other tabloid. Creevy's already sent home some of his moving photos. Surely, he's not the only one.
As she thumbed through some of the science magazines her parents subscribed to, she also wondered how well magic kept satellites from spotting Hogwarts or the prison even further north. People looking for oil in the North Sea might well run into it. She shuddered at the possibility that Dementors could hitchhike onto drilling platforms if they were too close. And given that British surveys were so meticulous, it would be interesting to find out what they'd put down for areas which supposedly repelled all Muggles.
How long would Hogwarts remain undiscovered? She'd found herself that electronic devices could be charmed to work there. There was a rumor that a first year Hufflepuff had brought her Gameboy and had tried to find a way to get it to play there. It was probably only a matter of time till the child succeeded, or the wiring fried.
She herself had made her skateboard rise an inch or so after hours of nagging at it, though she hadn't tried to stand on it yet while it was off the floor. Hermione had also seen small devices called 'mobiles' mentioned in magazines, though none of her Muggle friends had them yet. Wouldn't those be handy? Of course, she had been ready to strangle Harry when she'd found out about the mirrors. She might not be sick half the time if he'd just opened his godfather's gift. But if one person like Sirius Black could put together a spell like that, the three of them could, too. I will have to do some research and find a set of three, she thought.
Hermione sighed and made more notes. She loved magic and never wanted to do without it, but if they had to hide in the Muggle world for some reason, at least she should know her way around it. Muggles had universities and far more opportunities than the magical one did. I'll have to claim I was raised on a hippie commune and do my A and O levels the hard way.
Oh, wait, the war—well, never mind.
What did the magical world do when there wasn't a war?
Monica and Wendell Granger had decided to stay in for New Year's Eve. They had already enjoyed a few parties themselves and so were more than happy to be home for the night. They had already made a bet at what time Hermione would finally come home—of course, they had the unspoken dread that their daughter wouldn't, but all parents had that one.
"I thought we were going to skip this phase," Wendell said.
Monica shook her head. "I know this sounds odd, but I'm glad she's having it. I already had a little chat with her about protection, and I'm sure you don't want to hear the rest of it," she said with a laugh.
Wendell vigorously shook his head. "The less I know, the happier I am."
She smiled. He was such a typical father—willing to give his life for his daughter, but preferring to pretend she was still only eight years old. "You will be happy to know that she and her friends do watch out for each other and won't let anyone be separated," she said. "I know she will always be our little girl, but she is growing up." She was happy that Hermione was testing her boundaries here at home and not where she had less protection. Also, it was good her daughter was looking over others and not quite ready to join the hive mind of the Weasley family. She's not told us half of what's going on. I don't like invading her privacy, but I'd like to know how she acquired the scar she covered up so quickly. That one year when she wasn't answering letters let me know the administration feels no obligation to tell Muggles anything. I do wish I had some magical truth potion.
She didn't mind letting Wendell read some of the book that Hermione had told them was a good guide to the magical world, even though it was decades old. Monica had an odd feeling that very little changed there, and suspected her daughter would become bored with that once she was done with her studies.
The next time they received an edition of the magical world's newspaper, she was going to read it thoroughly, including the ads. She had some experience reading news from countries where it was managed by the powers in charge. Something always slipped through, if only in the agony column and the personal ads. The Prophet also seemed fairly small in comparison to city newspapers. In fact, she'd seen village broadsheets which were larger, though those often published just once a week.
She decided to look through the issues stacked in her daughter's room and sneak a few away in the guise of helping with cleaning.
Monica decided to do it right now. Hermione might come home early, after all. Knowledge might not be power, but it was only right for her and Wendell to understand more about the world they were going to lose their daughter to.
Only Ron, Harry and Ginny were in the house a couple of days after Christmas, and they still had about a week left before they had to return to school. Molly finally had her talks with Harry and Ginny. As usual, she'd left Ronald for last.
One afternoon she called Harry to her. She was happy her new son finally felt safe enough to break down. As they sat in her sewing room on the couch she said, "It will be days before anyone outside of this house will see you, Harry. Your eyes can be as red as his and nobody will say a word."
The boy crumpled like a used napkin, and she was there to catch him. "Oh, Harry, Harry," she'd murmured while both were on the couch.
That didn't last long enough, though. All too soon he forced himself upright and began the process of putting up his walls.
"I know why you must do this," she said, facing him and handing him a handkerchief to dry his face. She knew that he wouldn't let her do it—at least not for now. "I hope the day will come when you can just be you. Even if it's years from now, this couch will still be here and so will I, I hope. Just think of this piece of furniture as the place where you can be Harry."
He looked around as he struggled to put his face back in order. "Oh, M- Mum!" he cried out loud and patted the tatty arm of the sofa.
"You have all of us now and not just your friends," Molly said.
"But Mr.—I mean, Dad was killed because of me!"
Oh, dear. "Harry, he died fighting You-Know-Who. Arthur would have done that whether you were with us or not. We are grownups and we choose for ourselves. I don't like children in wars, Harry. But all of mine are, in one way or another, and I wish they weren't. That includes you. I will always miss him…" Her own voice caught then. "But if I had been asked to go see to that dreadful shop on Knockturn Alley I would have been with him."
"No! I couldn't bear it if you were gone too!" Harry howled. The lamps shook.
"I didn't go and I'm still here," she said, hugging the boy to her. "See, there's no doubting the weight of me! Rage all you like, sweetheart, I don't blame you a bit!" She let herself be like a muffler against the cold for the powerful young man. I should take him out to the woods like I did Charlie, she thought. The force of his anger shook her a bit, too.
He calmed down and looked around the room. "The last time I was this angry I nearly wrecked everything in the Headmaster's office."
"And from what I heard, the old man deserved it, too. Now, lad, I have too much glassware here, but I have plenty of wood to split. Charlie didn't get it all." She rose then, made sure he had his cloak on, and took him to the woodpile. "See, all those logs? Blast them into kindling if you like. If you can do it without your wand, so much the better. Come back in and I'll have hot chocolate waiting for you. I know better than to push you about eating." She wanted to hex the Dursleys so much for starving the boy but had learned that piling his plate too high just made him not want to eat at all. That didn't stop her from making sure his tea had more sugar in it than everyone else, though. Some people just couldn't eat that much but could manage drinking things better. Poppy had said the same thing about Snape a few times.
He looked at the pile with an eager grin and went towards it. She could hear the wood cracking from the kitchen as she made up the chocolate for everyone. Soon she'd have enough kindling for the rest of the winter. Yes, the Burrow had magic to keep it warm, but there was something about a real fire that comforted people more.
Once he returned, he looked and felt better. Everyone came down as they smelled the chocolate, and it was good for her to see the small group all sitting together at the table supporting each other.
Later that day, she found Ginny in the barn feeding the pigs. "Dear, that's my job," Molly said.
"But I can snivel here all I want," her daughter had said.
"The couch is just as good for that, love."
"But I can scream here, too. The pigs don't seem to mind that much," her daughter said. "And I can think of things to do to the scum who killed Dad."
"You and I should make a list," Molly said, who was only half-joking. "I know some old curses from Lancre that nobody teaches here. You aren't the only one who wants vengeance." Anger of her own welled up inside her.
"I wish…I wish that girls could ride dragons."
"Why can't they? That little Fleur had to be in the Tournament with a dragon, didn't she?" Molly knew that it was mostly men who worked with them but hadn't heard they were banned or anything like that.
"Charlie says they don't have any there in Romania." Ginny frowned.
"So, they don't have dragons anywhere else in the world?"
"I don't know."
"Well, I don't either. I might send a note to your Magical Creatures teacher to find out."
"Better not a note! I'll just ask him. Professor Hagrid has things just as dangerous. Maybe he'll come up with a Blast-Ended Screwt which can fly." Her daughter looked as if she was intrigued by the thought.
Molly was horrified. What was Rubeus doing there at the school? "Now, I know you want to try out for the Harpies when the time comes…"
"Not if the war is still going on," Ginny said.
"Ah, and you'd prefer a broom which can breathe fire and lay waste," Molly said.
"Yes!"
"Well, then, you'd best keep your grades up and stay in school," the older woman said. "The more spells you learn the better. The Bat-Bogey hex is enough to slow someone down but won't put anyone out of action for long. Doing well in the OWL classes will let you choose the NEWTs which will make you more dangerous. People laugh at Charms, but that little professor of yours is known as a champion duelist for a reason. And in a real war, you need to learn to work as a team. From what I heard of the Ministry raid, neither side could organize Christmas dinner."
Ginny glumly nodded. "I heard a rumor that one of the first years thinks there should be a healer right there with the fighters to fix things on the spot and let them push back in while the battle is still going."
"That's not the stupidest idea I've heard," Molly said. At last, something they might let me do! "And that healer better have a guard to keep from getting hexed in the middle of her work, too." She had another thought. "In that library there, Madam Pince should have books on how to fight wars."
Ginny screwed up her face. "Binns is always nattering on about the goblin wars and putting us all to sleep."
"Maybe you'd better take good notes," Molly said. "Something we did back then might work again. Or look harder at the book and ask to find out more about the battles if there isn't much in there. I'll tell Ronald the same. Chess is a battle on the board and though I can't do it, seeing more than one move ahead can mean a lot. Find out if anyone has written anything about battles the first time You-Know-Who went after the rest of us. Ronald's friend can probably find it for you if nobody else can."
Her daughter sighed. "Even war has homework!"
"If you want to live through it."
Ginny had no answer for that. Then she sat down on a bench and burst into tears. Molly comforted her then, as she had her other children.
Now Molly Weasley sat up to watch the New Year in. Arthur had teased her about how difficult she found it to stay up later, and then had shown her a good way to stay awake. Her cheeks burned with those memories of how they used to ring the old year out and the new one in.
Only Ron, Harry and Ginny were in the house now, and they still had a few days left before they had to return. She'd left them enough sweets laid out in their rooms to gorge themselves into a coma, the way she'd done with the older boys till they could find their own way to celebrate.
She listened to the music and chatter of the Ministry party on the wireless. She'd received an invitation, of course, but had no heart to go on her own. That reminded her of the box she still had untouched from Arthur's office. His keys could still be in there. I wonder why his killers would leave those and not his wand. She couldn't remember now if they'd been in his trousers or not when she'd brought him home.
She thought of other New Year's Eves, those spent with Arthur. Molly poured herself a cup of leftover Christmas punch. I wonder what the Order is doing? No doubt they left a load of dirty dishes and didn't clear the table. At least I left cleaning supplies for Kreacher and hid enough food for him if they eat the rest of the larder bare.
It was nice not to hear of any new atrocities on the wireless news once an hour or in the last Prophet of the year. She could stand a bit of hushing up just now. It would be a bad sign if things were going on behind Snape's back, though, since that could mean You-Know-Who didn't trust him any more.
We need more than one spy. I wish Percy wasn't one of them! Yes, he said that he'd taken care of us still loving him with the other side, but I've heard that from my lads before. I need to talk to Moody and tell him he can't use Percy the way Snape has been. We all need to learn that Occu-thing, too, not just Harry. I don't want to put up walls like my poor son has to, but maybe it's a good idea anyway.
Oh, who am I fooling? We're all at risk. All the hands on the clock but Arthur's are at Mortal Danger, even mine.
She looked up and Ronald stood before her. "Mum, I know you want to be alone tonight, but I need to tell you something. The Headmaster had an idea of me being an assistant to Snape, er, Professor Snape, this winter when there's no Quidditch. I don't know what I'm supposed to do to help him."
Molly welcomed this distraction. She moved over to the parlor sofa and patted the seat next to her. "I'm sure he'll have something for you to do. What does he tell you when you have detentions?"
"Horrible things with ingredients," he said with a shudder and sat down next to her. Oh, my, he was nearly a foot taller than she was these days, and him not finished with his growth yet! He was the opposite of Harry—when he felt poorly, he ate more. Molly understood that one! He put it all into muscle and bone for now, but later in life he might fatten up. But she was never going to stint any child at her table. Now, Ginny was more like Charlie and the other Prewetts—both burned so fiercely anything they ate went up in smoke, so to speak. That was the only explanation she had for the amount either one could eat and still have bones showing.
Ron continued speaking. "And lines. Lots of lines. He says he keeps hoping he can read my writing someday. I've been printing lately, and now he just marks me off for what I get wrong."
"Well, I hope that's an improvement," she said, as she put one arm around his shoulder, though she had to reach up. "You might be able to help when he's not well, though."
"Winky is there for most of that, I've heard. You should see her, Mum! She looks like a little house elf princess in the coat Snape has her wear."
She'd give a Galleon or two to see that! "I'm sure she does a lot for him. She might have other duties, though. Your professor might appreciate a fresh cuppa while she's at them. If he's laid up, you can play chess to keep him in bed and not up before he should be. Poppy is forever complaining he won't rest as much as he should." She remembered the things he'd said to her when he burned with fever, and how she'd had to stop in the shower after.
Molly fanned herself as if the heat from the fireplace had put the red spots in her cheeks.
Ronald sighed. "I still want to quit school and get a real job so I can help out."
She had to stop that talk right now. "Your brother Bill and I went through the books while he was here. He will help if need be, and so will the twins and even Percy. I spent less on Christmas than I could have. This Easter, once the pension starts, you and I and Ginny will go to the shops to buy both of you new clothing, in cash and not on tick." Debt was the real killer, even back in Lancre. It had taken a while to dig themselves out. Oh, what a fool she'd been to buy all those ridiculous books by Lockhart!
"I suppose," her son said reluctantly. Then his face brightened. "Harry and I might have a surprise at school. There really is a dead basilisk at Hogwarts. We have a catalog that says how much the parts are worth. Since I'll be working for Snape anyway, they can be properly prepared the way the catalog people want. Harry can still open the door if he wants. There should be plenty to share out once the bits are sold."
She was glad she wasn't going to be there—parts of Grimmauld Place were bad enough. "Just a thought. If you soak two small pieces of rag in peppermint oil and put them in your nose, it might be easier to work down there."
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."
"Your brother Bill sometimes goes into a tomb that's had the damp go at it, and that's what he uses," she said. "And I want you to finish school. I will be all right. I eat with the Order half the time and the pigs won't starve over the winter till they can graze. And the slowest one can be on our table for Easter."
"Oh, Mum, I just want to take care of you the way you've taken care of us," he said, and leaned into her.
"We have enough put by to see you for the rest of Hogwarts for both you and Ginny," she said, mentally crossing her fingers. Besides, Poppy said she needed part-time help and had finally gotten Albus to agree to put something in the budget for it. St. Mungo's was always short-handed, and more so as the war went on. Besides, it'd give her something to do.
Molly knew another reason both her children should stay in school besides their futures after the war but wanted her son to think of it himself. "And what would you do if you quit?"
Ron said, "I'd work in a shop if nothing else, but not for the twins. They won't pay me the same as they would anyone else. I could move back in and help around here, too."
And eat his weight in whatever he made in pay, Molly thought, but wouldn't say it. "Let's see what that basilisk brings in first," she said. "I'll walk you through the house books, too, so you can see for yourself that I'm all right. Oh, lad, you don't have to carry all that. I'm strong enough.
"But you shouldn't have to be," he cried. Then tears ran down his face. "I'm big and strong and shouldn't be just a kid any more."
"You haven't been that since your first year there," she said, as she pulled his head to her shoulders. "I know all about that horrid chess game and you only in your first year." Maybe that might make him think what, and who else would be at Hogwarts.
"I've been a fool!" he said flatly. "Of course, I can't leave. Both my friends would think I was a coward…"
"Lad, you've never been that!" Though she wasn't that fond of the Granger lass, she'd resigned herself to having the bossy girl in the family. At least Hermione had been allowed to fight. Molly still resented that, while she was constantly told her role was to cook, clean and comfort. She understood Charlie, Harry and Ginny all too well. All this sitting and waiting for the other side to do something drove her mad sometimes.
"Oh, Ronald, I understand your impatience, believe me," she murmured. Then she realized her boy had fallen asleep.
Maybe nothing will get done until I do it. If only I knew what it was! She carefully laid her son down on the couch while easing herself out from under him, went back to her chair and drained the rest of her cup of punch. Tomorrow, she told herself. I'll make a list tomorrow.