3Another little fic inspired by the HBP film, which I saw a second time today. Or would that be yesterday? This scene was heart-wrenching when I saw Molly Weasley's face, and I had to write a Movieverse moment on it.
What is it that I feel coursing through my veins? Is it anger? Is it hope?
No. I'm simply mourning. I feel as if a piece of me, of my family, has been taken away and killed. This is exactly what I had feared all along. This is exactly why I hadn't wanted Ron and Ginny to return to Hogwarts, because I had foolishly thought they'd be in danger.
If anything, they're more in danger at home than at school.
It's a hard, cold fact that is slamming me hard in the face. Because building this family and this home is what I have worked for my whole life. It has been taken completely from me, all in a matter of seconds, in the flick of a wand, and through two bursts of flames that my house has been destroyed. And if my children -at Christmastime for Christ's sake!- can't be safe just sitting in their own home (my home!) then what kind of a mother does that make me?
I can't protect them any longer. I saw it in Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and now, Ginny. It hurts that my little girl has grown up. Even more, that she would run off so carelessly through the fire. It hurts because I didn't go after her, and also because I know that she loves Harry.
That knowledge doesn't hurt, really. But it only adds to the pain of watching all of them leave home.
Or what used to be home.
I can only stare open-mouthed at the flames emerging from our bedroom window - Arthur's and mine. I can hear things crashing from within and only wonder whether it's the pans that I left out for drying. The strength in my knees is weak, and distantly, I hear Ginny sniffling and trying to hide it. She's always been strong like that.
"Aguamenti!" Multiple people are beginning to shout.
I finally became aware that Arthur was one of them, and he's still standing right next to me, his arm circled around my shoulders as comforting as he can be. I'm coming out of my stupor now.
"Aguamenti," I cried with a shaking voice.
Wisps of smoke begin to rise into the air as the fire is being extinguished. After some more charms and spells are cast, I walk forward tentatively through the front door. Fred and George are right behind me, grim expressions of both sorrow and anger on their faces. I'm not sure what my own face looks like right now, but I think that I've gone very pale, which is rare. This is just so terrible, I can't help but still be shocked.
The furniture was still smoking and the things that I had left enchanted in the kitchen made shuffling noises. Half of the staircase had been burned to pieces, as well as, the dining set and a bit of the first floor.
My heart ached as I caught a glimpse of our clock - it was charred on the outside, and the faces were panicky with relief. They were all pointing toward "mortal danger."
It was when I came face-to-face with our Christmas tree that the tears finally came. It had been reduced to mere cinders, the decorations melted and disfigured into the strangest shapes. It was almost as if they had been in pain.
Both Fred and George, loyal and dependable as they were, came to my side to sit me down on the frayed couch, patting my back.
"Mum, it'll be okay," George said first.
"We'll repair it," Fred followed.
My face was in my hands, and I nodded. Yes, we'd repair things, but they would never be the same. Just as we might talk to Percy again, but the familiarity and love would always be altered. And yes, I would continue on caring for my children, but they would move on to other things that I wouldn't be a part of.
This was all a horrible metaphor for the permanent changes that were occurring. My daughter was falling in love for the first (and probably only ever) time. My youngest son was maturing, and he too was beginning to fall for a girl who was his best friend. The boy that I had considered a son for the past five or so years was becoming a man and he had a responsibility to save Wizardkind.
But most importantly, nothing and no one was safe anymore, especially with insane Death Eaters running amuck. The worst, most horrible part was that there was nothing I could do to stop any of these changes. Love was a power over which I had no control, and Harry was almost predestined to carry out Dumbledore's work. And, try as I might, I couldn't protect and shelter my family any longer. Tonight had proved that.
"Mrs. Weasley. . . I'm so, so, sorry. It's all my fault - they must have known I was here, I-"
"Don't be silly, Harry. It's not your fault for existing. It's those bloody Death Eaters."
They were coming back in. I heard Tonks and Remus offer to stay for the night and help clean the place up, yet Arthur politely refused. Regardless, they continued to insist on helping us. I could hear them bustling about, and I knew that I, of all people, should be working full force to restore my home.
It was all so hopeless.
"Mum, how to we clean this off?" Seconds passed as Ron's question went through my ears, but somehow couldn't reach my brain.
"Mum?" He repeated his calling twice.
"Give her some time, Ron. Just use Tergeo."
No one bothered me for a while after that. On the ravaged sofa, I sat staring blankly at the nothingness inside the fireplace. I thought more about the present, and I tried to think of something positive. I had learned long ago that dwelling on subjects otherwise never gave anyone much enlightenment.
I tried to observe all these changes as if weren't bad in all the ways I thought they were. If I tried, I could see them in a better light.
Maybe, the new love that floated in the air symbolized the beginning of something better, something good and pure and innocent. I remembered back to when Arthur and I had been younger and carefree. We were the beginning of another generation then as the children are now. Bill and Charlie had been born during the War. They had distracted me and gladdened me in the time that I had mourned for Fabian and Gideon.
Now I could consider Ginny's love for Harry as something as bright and positive as my children were to me.
Just as I could look towards the future, I could consider my home as the floor plan for a new life. By rebuilding and repairing, it's another new start.
And you know what? I don't think I might a new start. Because, honestly, things were never completed the first time around. This is both the end of the beginning and the beginning of the end. We've all been sucked into this thing that's going to take our life by the reigns.
The road ahead is going to be filled with more turmoil and grief. Tonight is proof that everyone I hold dear will be endangered.
But I must have enough faith to keep on protecting them. Even if my worst fears come true, like tonight, I've got to look at Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, and remember that there's always going to be someone who needs me.
For the sake of change, that thought is what will keep me fighting. And I vow to whatever power or magic there is that I will fight with a vengeance.
So, too strange? Please review and tell me your thoughts of why/why not.