Chapter 7: Homecoming*
A few days later, the Weasley family gathered at the Burrow. Molly stood in the kitchen, her hands shaking slightly as she prepared tea. The news of Gideon's portrait had spread quickly, and today was the day they would see him again.
Arthur stood by her side, his arm around her shoulders. "It's going to be alright, Molly. He's here. And we're going to see him."
Molly nodded, wiping her eyes. "I know, Arthur. I just… I never thought I'd see him again. It feels like a miracle."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived, carrying the portrait carefully. As they set it up in the living room, the Weasleys gathered around, their faces a mix of anticipation and emotion. Ginny, George, Percy, Bill, and Charlie were all there, each of them touched by the magic of the moment.
Harry took a deep breath, then stepped back, allowing Molly to approach the portrait. She reached out, her fingers trembling, and touched the frame. The painted figure within stirred, turning to face her.
Gideon smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Molly."
Molly
's breath caught in her throat. She reached out as if to touch him, her hand stopping just short of the canvas. Tears filled her eyes as she took in the sight of her brother, alive and smiling.
"Gideon," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Is it really you?"
Gideon's smile was gentle, his eyes filled with love. "It's me, Molly. I've missed you so much."
Molly broke down in tears, and Arthur pulled her into a tight embrace, his own eyes glistening. The rest of the family crowded around, their faces filled with joy and disbelief.
George stepped forward, his voice unsteady. "Uncle Gideon… I wish Fred were here. He would have loved this."
Gideon's expression softened, and he nodded. "I know, George. I know. But he's with us, in spirit. And I'll be here, whenever you need me. For all of you."
As the Weasleys gathered around the portrait, Harry felt a profound sense of peace. They had done it. They had brought a piece of the past back, healed a wound that had lingered
for too long. And in doing so, they had proven that love, above all else, was the greatest magic of all.
The Burrow was filled with the sound of laughter, of tears, of family. And as the sun set over the rolling hills, the portrait of Gideon Prewett stood as a testament to the power of memory, of love, and of the unbreakable bonds that held them all together.