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“Mum! I don’t care right now about what we’re going to serve at the wedding! I don’t want to talk about it!” She yelled as she threw down the dish towel she was holding onto the countertop. “Can we just for one moment NOT talk about it?”

Molly looked at her daughter who stood beside her at the sink. She was standing with both hands on the edge of the counter, her elbows locked and her eyes shut tight. Ginny had a look of tiredness on her face that Molly knew must be a result of a very bad week. All day, Molly noticed a combination of sadness and fatigue on her face, but hadn’t had a moment alone with her daughter to ask her about it. As Arthur was outside in his work shed, fiddling with his newest acquisition – something he was said was called a mirco-oven and James was playing in the back yard, now seemed to Molly like a good time to try to get her daughter to open up.

“Ginny dear - you know we have to talk about it. Heavens knows when Harry could come home. He’s been gone nearly three months now. He might show up on the doorstep tomorrow. It was the two of you that came up with the scheme that you’ll be married two weeks after he returns. The more you have ready – the less stressful it will be when the time comes.” She said as calm as she could. Molly could tell that Ginny’s temper was simmering just below the surface and that she would have to tread lightly.

“But Mum –" She began.

“No buts Ginerva Weasley. I know you’ve been having a bad week. Don’t try to deny it because it’s written all over you. But don’t take it out on me for trying to help you out with something. “ Molly said sternly as she placed an arm on her daughter’s shoulder. Then her tone became softer, “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No – I’d rather not.” Ginny said shortly as James bounded into the kitchen of the Burrow covered in mud and clutching a dusty old broom.

“Mummy! I want to fly!” He said, thrusting the broom at her. Ginny looked down at her son and smiled slightly.

“Quidditch-bug, I’ve already told you today that you aren’t allowed to fly yet. Now please take that broom back to the shed and put it beside the others.” She said, turning back to the dishes to pick up a dripping bowl.

Looked at his mother for a moment and then suddenly threw the dusty broom onto the floor “NO!” He yelled, “I want to fly!!”

The loudness and anger in his voice shot straight up Ginny’s spine and made her head throb. Having James act cranky was the last thing she needed at the end of this particular week. Reminding her self that he was just a little boy she set the bowl she was holding onto the counter and turned around slowly.

“Pardon me James?” She asked, looking down at him.

“I WANT TO FLY.” He shouted again, a whining quality entering his voice as he threw himself onto the floor beside the broom.

“And I’ve already told you that you can’t fly yet James. You’re not old enough yet.” She said, trying to keep her calm.

“Uncle George said he was four when he started to fly and I’m four now!” He continued, the tears welling up in his green eyes.

Molly could tell the two of them were about to lose their tempers. She was about to send the two into separate corners when Ginny lost her temper.

“James Arthur Weasley! You will return that broom to the place you found it immediately and then we’re going straight home and to bed!” She yelled her hand shaking as she pointed outside.

James chose this moment to start howling as his tears begin to fall. “NO!” He yelled back, equally as loud as he began to kick his feet.

Molly stepped between her daughter and grandson, the latter who was now pitching a tantrum of Weasley proportions on the kitchen floor. As the table began to shake from the magic emanating from the little boy she said firmly. “James please take that broom out to the shed where you found it. You are making a mess in Granmum’s clean kitchen.”

She waited as his cries subsided and he sat upright on the floor where he had just been thrashing about. Looking from his mother to his grandmother, James silently got up and picked up the broom and stomped outside.

In the ensuing silence, Molly then turned to her daughter. Ginny looked as white as a ghost and her own tears were threatening to fall.

“Mum, I just yelled at him. Mum – I never yell.” She said, her voice wavering as she looked at Molly.

“Ginny – your son has inherited at least one thing from you – your temper. It’s been quite awhile since a temper of that scale has taken place in this kitchen.” Molly said simply, and then sighed as she seen the look of guilt that was plastered on her youngest’s face.

“He hates me now Mum. He’s never acted like that before. I don’t understand.” She said, as a single fat tear rolled down her cheek.

“Dear – that little boy does not hate you. I guarantee you of that. He’s just cranky – I suspect he’s picked it up from you.” Molly drew her daughter into her arms for a quick hug. She knew how Ginny was feeling. The first time she had lost her temper with Bill; he had looked at her with his clear blue eyes glistening with tears and proceeded to throw his tantrum. It had tore her up inside as she suspected Ginny was feeling at that precise moment.

“Now why don’t you go upstairs and have a bit of quiet time? I’ll run James his bath and get him cleaned up. The two of you can stay here tonight. I think you both need some rest. You can tuck him in when he’s finished.”

Ginny stood in the comfort of her mum’s arms and laid her head on her shoulder. “Mum – are you sure?”

Molly chuckled at the insecurity in her daughter’s voice. “Yes darling. I’m sure on all accounts. By the time James has had his bath and you’ve both had a chance to let you temper recede, this feeling you’re having will go away.”

Molly sighed as she watched Ginny go upstairs and listened for the tell tale creak that signaled her daughter had entered her room. Satisfied, Molly turned to go outside to find her grandson.

She rounded the corner of the shed to find James sitting on the ground, his head on his folded arms that lay on his knees. She cleared her throat and watched as he looked up at her with tear stained cheeks and his hair sticking wildly out at all ends. Molly’s felt a little twinge in her heart as she imagined this must have been what a four-year old Harry must have looked like when he had been upset at that age.

“Granmum? Where’s Mummy?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes with grubby hands.

Molly kneeled down beside James, her knees throbbing slightly from the stiffness she was occasionally feeling in her joints these days. But she ignored it, knowing that seven children, two grandchildren and the thought of more on their way made her feel young.

“Mummy’s upstairs in her room. I thought I might come and find you myself and we could go run your bath. You and Mummy are going to stay with me and Grampie tonight. How does that sound to you?”

James sniffled as he looked into his Granmum’s eyes. “But Mummy’s mad at me. She wants to go home!” He said as his voice hitched and tears filled his bright eyes again.

Molly stood and lifted James into her arms. Moving over to where the tree swing hung, she sat down and rocked them gently. “James darling, although your Mummy lost her temper, she’s not mad at you.” She felt his little fingers gather the shoulder strap of her apron between them, so she continued to rock. “I think Mummy’s had a rough week and sometimes that happens to Mummy’s. But she’s not angry with you.” She looked down to find James’ eyes fixed on her face. Giving him a squeeze, she kissed the top of his head. “Besides I don’t think anyone could ever be angry with you. Now let’s go run that bath and get you cleaned up. Afterwards, perhaps we’ll make you some hot chocolate before bed.”

James’ eyes lit at the mention of the bedtime treat and he nodded, snaking his arms around Molly’s neck to give her a hug. “I love you Granmum.” He said, smiling up at her.


Ginny lay on the twin bed in her childhood room as thoughts from the week crashed about in her head. She was worried about Tonks and her progress, worried about Harry and worried about the wedding. She drew a few deep breaths and focused her thoughts first on Tonks.

For the past two weeks, the testers had brought up the elixir on a regular basis. The conclusion had been made that because she had been the first to respond to treatment, her dosages would be increased until her improvement stopped. But as Ginny entered her patient’s room each day, it didn’t seem like any improvement was being made.

Changes had taken place but since the first time Ginny had noticed the tiny little black cloud in the corner of the ceiling; Tonks had taken a turn in the opposite direction that Ginny had hoped she would take. At first, she spent most of the time prior to treatment, thrashing about on her bed. So much so, that she had to be restrained in fear that she might fall out of bed and hurt herself in other ways.

Then this week, Tonks had opened her eyes. Directly following her treatment, her dark eyes had flown open and met Ginny’s. There, deep in their depths, Ginny had seen the fear and confusion residing inside. Ginny had tried to soothe her. Telling her that everything was ok and that she was at St. Mungo’s being treated, but it seemed like she hadn’t heard a thing. Tonks looked from Ginny and rested her eyes on Lupin. She watched as Tonks looked at him with confusion, not recognizing the man she loved. Ginny’s heart had broken along with Lupin’s as he calmly smiled while being assured by the testers that this madness was temporary. They were quite certain that Tonks was fighting her way to the surface. The process of getting her back was going to be a painful one for all involved.

For the remainder of the week, when anyone had tried to touch Tonks or even entered her field of vision as she stared at the enchanted ceiling above her, she would start to scream. The testers and Ginny realized that when it was time for testing or any part of her daily routine, Tonks would need to be sedated, as the screams were painful to hear. They were the screams of someone that had been terrified and tortured. The only things that ever seemed to calm her down seemed to be the enchanted ceiling and the sound of Lupin’s voice – but only from a distance. The moment Tonks could sense a presence near her the cries would start, but if she could hear Lupin from across the room, she calmed. The ceiling that had once been filled with blue skies and fluffy white clouds was now filled with dark clouds and flashes of lightning.

Ginny stared at the ceiling in her old room at the Burrow, feeling a tear roll down the side of her face and fall into her hair. She wished so much to make the pain stop for her friend and patient, but at the moment she was at a loss. She felt so helpless going into the hospital room everyday and then see no positive progress. Things had to change soon – otherwise she wasn’t sure how much longer any of them could take it. Ginny and Lupin included.

Sighing, she sat up and pulled her old childhood bear into her arms. It was torn and tattered but as she hugged it to her chest, Ginny felt a bit of comfort. She felt horrible for yelling the way she did at James. Recalling the anger and surprise in her son’s face as she yelled back at him in the middle of his tantrum, she began to feel melancholy.

Ginny knew her mother was right in saying James hadn’t been permanently scarred by her temper, but it still hurt her to know she’d yelled at him the way she did. Truth be told, she’d been rather short with him all week. The outburst earlier had just been a result of the entire week building up.

Sitting up with her bear still in her arms, Ginny looked around her old bedroom. It was as if time had stopped in here. Although she had lived here up until just a few years ago – the room had stopped evolving when she had graduated Hogwarts. The old wallpaper was starting to peel and had faded to a white-yellow and the pink flowers on it were nearing translucency, but when she closed her eyes, she could see the wallpaper as it had been on the first day it had been put up. She smiled at the memory, she had wanted quidditch wallpaper so badly but Molly had insisted that she needed some “feminine” touches in her room and the yellow and pink flowered wallpaper was the first step. The Weasley boys had teased her for weeks on end once it had been hung, and Ginny would pout and tell them she was going to draw snitches, quaffles and bludgers on it because she was no girl. But when she went into her room every night she secretly admitted she liked her mother’s choice in wallpaper.

There were posters hung on the walls from the summer of Ginny’s teen years. The Weird Sisters took up one narrow wall and on another there was a poster of the Cannons that Ron had given her when he finally had run out of room on his walls for Cannons paraphernalia. The wall where her bed was nestled against was covered in photos from her Hogwarts years. Only a few existed from her first year but as the years progressed more and more were added. The very last photos on the wall were from her Hogwarts graduation.

Molly and Arthur had made such a big deal that day. Her father had strutted around the grounds of the school, prouder than a peacock, boasting how his daughter was the last of an era. Molly alternate between crying and fussing over Ginny’s graduation robes. Ginny had spent the entire day in a state of embarrassment over her parents because of the attention they were giving her. The entire family had come out for the occasion of her leaving Hogwarts and was shown by the photos on her walls. There was the entire Weasley clan posing on the lawn in front of the main doors of Hogwarts, one of just her and her parents. Hermione, Ron and Harry joined her in the next one and then just her and her brothers in the other.

In the final picture Harry and Ginny stood together. He had been so proud of her that day and she could tell by the smile he wore in the picture as she looked at it now. Although Voldemort had been defeated for nearly a year, Ginny could see the shadows under his eyes from not sleeping at night. But they had been really happy then. In the present, her fingers ran over the photo tracing Harry’s face gently.

Feeling the sudden need to be near Harry, Ginny went over to her closet and opened it. Kneeling to the floor, she threw open her old Hogwarts trunk and started to root around inside. She pushed aside her old, battered books, which were all hand-me-downs from her brothers or from the used pile at Flourish and Blotts. Old robes were piled underneath, along with numerous Gryffindor scarves. Worn down quills and crumpled bits of parchment were scattered in her trunk and Ginny chuckled as she thought of what Hermione’s reaction would be if she seen the mess.

She plunged her hand down deep into the trunk and felt around until her fingers brushed against something soft. Tugging gently, she pulled out a faded scarlet t-shirt with scrolled gold lettering proclaiming this player was property of the Gryffindor quidditch locker room. Ginny set it aside and reached back into the trunk and pulled out a pair of matching shorts and old socks covered in broomsticks.

Closing her trunk and she returned to her bed with her findings. Lifting up the shirt, she held it close to her nose and inhaled. It still smelled slightly like Harry, fresh air and broomstick polishing oil. The summer of her fifth year, when the trio had banished her from sitting with them while they discussed what she would eventually find out was their plans for their horcrux search; Ginny had snuck into Harry’s trunk. She had her suspicions that they weren’t going to return to Hogwarts, so she decided she was taking something to keep herself close to Harry. She had nicked his exercise outfit and hidden it in her trunk. Hermione had found out what she had taken but Ginny had sworn her friend to secrecy and when Harry had asked where his workout shorts had been, Ginny denied that they even existed. Harry had looked at her like she was barking mad and went to tell Ron his sister was crazy.

Ginny smiled at how simple life always was in those last days of summer. Wanting to feel the soft fabric against her skin, Ginny quickly changed and looked down at her outfit. There was a hole in the big toe of her left sock but still the broomsticks floated along happily. The shorts that had once fallen loosely off her hips, fit a bit snugger, and the shirt that had been baggy and roomy was a little tighter across her chest. Must be from having James, she thought, wrapping her arms around her mid-section. Feeling better in Harry’s clothes, Ginny left her room to find Molly and James.

As she walked in the hall outside her room, Ginny could hear Molly and James’ voices coming from the room at the bottom of the second floor landing. Going down, she found them both sitting on the bed while Molly toweled off James’ hair. She smiled as she watched Molly listen intently to James tell her about spending Friday with Mrs. Edgecombe.

Stepping in quietly, she knocked softly on the dresser to get their attention. James stopped in mid-sentence and turned to see who was there. His face lit in a smile and Ginny knew then their argument earlier was forgotten.

“Mummy!” He said, standing up on the bed and reaching for a hug from her.

Taking James in her arms, she took a deep breath and inhaled his just out of the bath scent. The simple, clean smell reminded Ginny of her own childhood. She wasn’t sure what sort of soaps Molly kept in the bath, but every one in the Weasley family had used the same soap growing up. One day Ginny had asked her mother what was in the soap that made the children smell so good, Molly just told her it wasn’t the soap Ginny smelled, but the child underneath.

“Hey Quidditch-Bug, you’re not pestering your Granmum are you?” She said, giving him a final squeeze and a kiss before letting him go and sitting on the bed.

James shook his head as Molly answered, “of course not Ginny-dear. James was telling me all about his week. We were just finishing the week.” She leaned over and smoothed down Ginny’s hair. “Feeling a bit better?” She asked.

Ginny nodded and fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt. “I’m sorry for being so cranky earlier.”

Molly tut-tutted her. “That’s fine dear; we all have a bad day and bad weeks. I’m going to go down to the kitchen and get a snack ready. I promised James some hot chocolate. Come down when you’re ready.” She said, leaning over to place a kiss on her daughter’s cheek before rising and leaving the room.

Ginny sat up against the headboard and patted the bed next to her. James took the invite and scrambled up into her arms once more. Feeling a comfort overtake her, Ginny relaxed and stroked her little boys back.

“Mummy? I’m sorry I was bad this afternoon. I just want to fly a broom.” He said quietly.

Ginny sighed deeply and gave him a little squeeze. “I know Quidditch-Bug, flying always looks like such fun doesn’t it? But you have to wait until you’re five. Maybe next year and I don’t recall stories of any of your uncles flying before they were five. You should ask Granmum. She’ll tell you.” Ginny looked down at him and tried to smooth down the jet black hair that was sticking up in all directions as it dried. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you. I want you to remember that no matter how angry Mummy may seem, I’ll always love you no matter what.”

James nodded against her and she felt his fingers start to rub the fabric of her t-shirt. “Your shirt smells good.” He said, looking up at her.

“That’s because it’s Daddy’s.” Ginny said, chuckling when his eyes lit up at the thought of Harry.

“It’s Daddy’s? It’s old.” He said, looking at the lettering on the shirt. “What does it say?” He asked.

“Well I borrowed it from Daddy a long time ago when we were in school. I missed him a bit more than usual tonight so I wore it to remind me of him.” Ginny said, “It says Property of Gryffindor quidditch locker room. Remember how I told you Daddy played quidditch at Hogwarts?”

James nodded. “Uh-huh. He was the youngest seeker in a century!” He said excitedly, scrambling out of her arms and bouncing on his knees. “Daddy could find the snitch anywhere on the pitch couldn’t he?”

Ginny nodded, feeling his excitement. “You’re right. He was the youngest seeker. I remember he caught the snitch while he was being chased by a rogue bludger. The whole house cheered so loudly when it happened. It was quite the sight!”

“Mummy – when I go to Hogwarts I want to be a seeker!” He shouted, jumping up on the bed and throwing his stuffed snitch into the air. Catching it in his arms, he fell back onto the bed in a sitting position. Ginny laughed as he giggled.

“Well darling, I am sure you will play quidditch. You do come from a long line of quidditch stars after all!” She watched him squeeze his stuffed snitch tightly; his eyes tightly shut as he held it out and made it fly through the air in his small hands.

“Mummy?” He quietly asked as he opened his eyes and scrambled back into her arms.

“Yes James?” Ginny responded, looking down at him.

“Will Daddy be back soon? I miss him.” He said simply, a hint of sadness in his young voice.

“I know you miss him Quidditch-Bug.” Ginny sighed, letting the silence envelope them for a moment. “It feels like he’s been gone awhile doesn’t it?” She felt James nod in agreement into her shoulder. “He’ll be home soon.” Ginny gave him one final hug and set him beside her. “Hey - I think Granmum might have the hot chocolate ready by now. How about we go down to the kitchen and get some before bedtime? I bet if we look hard enough we can find some pumpkin pasties to go with it!” Ginny said, laughing as James shouted in agreement and bounded downstairs to the kitchen.


Molly sat in her favorite chair, her knitting needles clacking together as she finished a row on the bottom of a tiny sweater. The bright blue ball of yarn lay at her feet, unraveling itself as the progress continued. The sweater was for Bill’s little one, the first in a large group of jumpers that Molly would have to knit this year. The fire crackled in front of her had her hands flew along, and she paused for a moment as she heard soft footsteps behind her.

“Hello darling.” She said, looking up at her husband. Arthur leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “All finished outside then?”

Arthur nodded and took a seat in the comfy chair next to his wife. “Yes – I made great progress with this mirco-oven; I’ve discovered that placing metal inside causes a great deal of sparks!” He said excitedly, gesturing with his hands while Molly’s eyes widened in the fear that she may wake up in the morning and find her husband’s experiment shed destroyed by fire. “How is your knitting coming along?” He asked, pointing at the needles in her hand.

“Wonderfully - I do hope Bill’s little one enjoys her first jumper. It’s been far too long since I’ve had the opportunity to make one this tiny.” Molly said, setting her knitting down, where the needles continued on their work.

“Molly-dear, it wasn’t that long ago that little James was that tiny.” He said, looking at his wife. “Speaking of James, where has he and Ginny gotten to?”

Molly stopped to listen and could faintly hear her daughter and grandson upstairs, preparing for bed. “They’re upstairs getting ready for bed. I suggested they stay for the night.”

“Our Ginny looked tired today didn’t she?” Arthur asked, as he fiddled with a muggle plug and stared at the fire.

Molly leaned over and stilled her husband’s hand. “She had herself a bad week Arthur. But she’s young and she’ll bounce back. She’s been through a lot worse than this.”

He looked down at their two hands in his lap. Even after all the years of marriage, her touch caused a shiver to run up his spine. Arthur rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand and then pulled it up to his lips to kiss. “I know you’re right Molly, but I still worry. She is my little girl you know.”

Molly smiled at her husband and kissed him lightly. “I know darling, but out of all of our children, Ginny is the one we need to worry about the least. She’s always been the strongest.” She stood and gave him one last kiss. “I’m going to check on them before bed. I’ll meet you upstairs in a little bit?” She asked, playfulness dancing in her eyes.

Arthur chuckled deeply in his throat and pulled her down into another kiss, this one much more passionate. “That sounds perfect Molly-Wobbles just perfect.” He responded, as he breathlessly broke the kiss.


When Molly finally broke away from Arthur’s embrace, the house was silent. She climbed the stairs with a smile on her face to find her daughter and grandson. In the extra room on the second floor, she peeked in to find James tucked under his blankets, his stuffed snitch in the crook of his arm. Closing the door quietly, she made her way to the third floor landing to find her daughter.

Ginny was sitting cross-legged on the bed when Molly found her. She was still dressed in the scarlet gym clothes and was absently running her brush through her long hair. She looked up and caught sight of her mother. “Hi Mum.” She said, setting her brush down. “Dad finally let you go?” She giggled at the shocked expression on her face. “I went down to grab a glass of milk and seen the two of you. I hope that Harry and I are like that in our golden years.”

“Ginerva Weasley! I never!” Molly blustered, even as she turned a red the shade of Ginny’s t-shirt.

“Oh Mum! Really! I’m a grown woman! And I have a child. Haven’t you noticed? I’m quite aware of what you and Dad get up to when this house is empty!” Ginny laughed as her mother sat down next to her.

Molly picked up the hair brush Ginny had abandoned and ran it through her daughter’s hair. The brush glided through her red hair smoothly. “Remember how we used to do this when you were little?” She asked, thinking back to Ginny’s childhood. Every morning when Ginny was preparing for her day Molly would brush out her hair and pin it up. Then in the evening, they would carry out the ritual again after bath time to make sure it was tangle free. It was something that each of the females in the Weasley household looked forward. Something special that only Molly could share with Ginny.

Ginny nodded. “I sure do. I used to love when you brushed my hair. Mostly at night though. I always thought that in the mornings, one of the boys would find us and tease me mercilessly.”

Molly chuckled at Ginny’s statement as she set the brush down and start to separate her daughter’s hair for braids. “I missed this so much once you went off to Hogwarts.” She said quietly, her daughter’s hair slipping through her fingers and into place. The two women sat silently as Molly finished. When she was done, she pulled Ginny back into her embrace.

“Mummy?” Ginny said in a quiet voice.

“Yes Ginny-dear?” Molly said, her hand stroking Ginny’s forehead in the same manner that she used to when Ginny was younger.

“Do you think Harry will be home soon? I just wish he was here right now.” She said, taking comfort in her Mum’s cool hand on her cheek.

“Ginny dear, Harry will come home as soon as he can. I know he will. The two of you have been through so much already. The two of you remind me a lot of myself and your father when we were younger. You have the same type of love that we share. He’ll come home for you, have no worry about that.”

Her mother’s words brought ease to Ginny’s mind. “Thanks Mum.” She said, turning in her mother’s arms to kiss her cheek. She pulled out of the embrace and stood up. “I think it’s time for me to head to bed. James won’t sleep in.” She pulled Molly off the bed and into a hug. “Goodnight Mum.”

Molly returned the hug, her chin just tucked under Ginny’s. Her daughter had always been just slightly taller than her. “Goodnight Ginny-dear.”

A/N: I know, I know! No Harry action in this chapter. I had intended to add some in, but I felt that this was the natural end. I promise he'll be in the next one! :)

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