When The Clock Strikes 'Home'

Molly Weasley

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Unfortunately.

This is my entry for youcanreachthestars' 'Emotion Challenge'. The emotions I had were 'bitterness', 'hostility' and 'relief'. Enjoy!

It was winter and Christmas was soon approaching. Snow was settling gently over the English countryside, and there was no exception in Ottery St. Catchpole.

Molly Weasley was sat at the kitchen table of the Burrow, staring blankly into a lukewarm cup of tea, her eyes worn and wide with anxiety. She had been like this everyday since the end of the Wizarding War, spending her days worrying when her family was out, wondering if this would be the day when they wouldn't come back.

Every few minutes, she would turn and stare at her magic clock, that she had kept by her side continuously out of habit, just to check that her family was safe in their respective places. She would gently touch the face of each loved one, hoping she would see their live face again.

First Arthur, her husband - she stroked his face, and smiled adoringly at his goofy smile and receding hairline. His clock hand was pointed toward 'Work', and she knew he was safe. But she would not feel truly happy until he was home and in her arms. Only a little while until he left…

Then she looked to the hand that rested next to Arthur's, also pointed at 'Work'. It was Bill, her eldest son, and although he lived with his wife Fleur in Shell Cottage, she still wanted to feel the relief of seeing his name point to 'Home', even if he didn't call the Burrow home anymore. She looked lovingly at his absurd hair (that she had told him a hundred times to get cut) and remembered the vicious scars that now ran down his face. She drowned out that memory by staring at the clean-shaven, unscarred face in his picture, and filled her mind with memories of him like that instead. It wasn't that she couldn't stand the sight of his marred face, but it was the idea that it had happened due to war and hardship that she couldn't face. She was unable to protect her own son from the awful werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. Just the thought of him caused waves of hostility and anger to course through her body, and she would have liked nothing more to have killed the beast. She clenched her cup in anger, and she had to stop the rising hostile emotions inside her.

So she turned to the next hand. Like Bill's and Arthur's, the next one rested on 'Work' also, and was filled with the face of her second eldest son, Charlie. Looking at his grinning face caused her anger to subside a little, to rest as a throbbing ball of irritation in the depths of her mind. Although she rarely saw him these days as his work kept him in Romania a lot of the time, she still felt as much love for him as she did the rest of her children. She still felt happy when she saw his clock hand move to the 'Home' position and she knew he was okay for another day.

Smiling, she went to the next hand, which was resting directly underneath Charlie's. She smiled and pushed Charlie's hand a little to the left, and stared instead at her next eldest son, Percy. He was wearing a very corporate expression and she felt pride that he had managed to achieve his grand dreams of rising to a high position within the Ministry. There was still an nagging feeling in the back of her mind that would not let her forget that he had turned his back on his family in favour of Cornelius Fudge a few years back, and part of her feared that he may still cut himself away from them again someday. But she loved him no less than the others, and she wanted him home all the same.

She realised, with a strange feeling, that her children were all growing up so fast as she looked at her next eldest son, George, who was also pointed at 'Work'. It was strange to see him with both ears intact - she was now used to the oddly lopsided head of her son. She smiled sadly, and she wished that she could feel anger at the man that had harmed her son, Severus Snape, but upon knowing the reasons behind Severus' actions, she just could not feel much hostility towards the now deceased man. She was proud of George, who had managed to carry on despite his losses.

Feeling sad then, she moved onto the next segment of the clock, labelled 'School'. Her two youngest children, Ron and Ginny, were due back from Hogwarts today, and she wanted nothing more than to see their clock hands point to 'Home'.

Ginny was her only daughter, and although a strong girl, Molly still worried about her the most. But she knew that Ginny had the protection of her friends and her new boyfriend, Harry, so she realised that of course her daughter was in safe hands. But still, she could not rest until she was home in Molly's company.

She looked then at Ron's clock hand. Although Ron had left school in his seventh year in order to help Harry defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, he had returned after the War ended in order to finish his final year and get his NEWTs. Molly was proud that he hadn't decided to just give up his education, which, although she'd never admit it, she had expected him to do. It had been awful when he was off with Harry and Hermione, and not even her magic clock could tell her where he was. She had hated how his hand was always pointed at 'Lost' and her anxiety for his safety almost caused her to breakdown.

And then, without wanting to, her eyes flitted over to the 'Lost' segment, and her heart ached fiercely. For there was the final hand of her magic clock. The hand that represented her last son, Fred. But he wasn't missing, alone in the countryside, wondering through endless forests or sailing empty seas.

No, he was dead. Dead and gone.

Molly supposed that the clock just labelled him as 'Lost' as it couldn't detect his whereabouts in the world. And in a way, he was lost…just not in a sense that the clock could identify with. She remembered when Percy had reached the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Fred limp in his arms, and then her angry screams.

But then the mocking face of Bellatrix Lestrange floated into her mind, chanting mockingly: "What will happen to your children when I've killed you? When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?" But Molly had killed Bellatrix…there was no-one left to direct her hostility at. Instead, she felt a bitterness that corrupted and blackened the back of her mind causing dark, twisted thoughts to snake their way into her dreams. But she couldn't let this bitterness affect her relationships with her remaining family members - she knew that Fred, being the happy, lovable man he was, would not want her to sink into a depression and would want her to keep her family locked inside her hom forever, protecting them from the evils of the world.

So, with that thought in mind, she suppressed her bitterness and breathed deeply. Molly closed her eyes, ignoring Bellatrix's mocking cry in her mind, and instead she thought of Fred's laughing face, identical to George's. It was a face that she hadn't seen in a long time. Though she still had George (who was a mirror image of Fred), he hadn't worn that expression of pure joy since his twin's death. It was like the light that had been lit by Fred was extinguished in George, leaving him an empty shell of a man. They had all been affected by Fred's premature death, but none felt it as badly as George.

Molly felt the bitterness rise again, like bile in her throat, and she choked it back with the tears that threatened to spill. It would do no good to cry and simmer over useless emotions.

Just then, she heard a tick, and Ron and Ginny's clock hands moved to 'Travelling'. The same happened with Bill, Charlie and George's, and Molly looked up at the door, waiting for the arrival of some of her children. Bill and Charlie's hands ticked again and they were pointing to 'Home'. Relief surged through Molly, and although they weren't with her, she knew that Bill was being greeted by his loving, pregnant wife, and that Charlie was welcoming his empty apartment with the attitude of the happiest of bachelors. She smiled to herself then, and waited for the inevitably loud arrival of Ron, George and Ginny.

And then they returned, three ticks of the clock and three loud cracks outside the back door.

She jumped up as George emerged through the door, looking sad but with a ghost of a smile of his lips. Molly embraced him, relishing his identical looks with that of Fred, and inside, she greeted Fred home too. She knew that if she lost George, then Fred was gone forever. But until that time, she could see him in everything George said and did. That made her feel happy, despite the aching in her chest.

Then Ginny and Ron entered, pushing each other childishly. They paused when the saw George, almost as though they were double-taking for a second, thinking it was Fred. But they recovered quickly and went to Molly, hugging her warmly, and in Ron's case, batting her gently away as she tried to wipe dirt of his face. She was happy then, and the relief she felt at her children's safety filled her up, almost obliterating the bitterness and hostility that had consumed her when she was alone.

But she had not forgotten that Arthur and Percy still needed to return from the Ministry. She looked at the clock again, and saw that in the chaos of her three youngest children's arrival, both of their hands had moved into the 'Travelling' segment. She hoped they would not be long.

She was not disappointed. Another two cracks sounded outside the door, and a moment later the two emerged, deep in debate about some Ministry matter. Arthur walked up to Molly and kissed her on the cheek, but continued his conversation with Percy. Percy himself stopped and glanced at George, where an awkward look passed between them. Percy had been there when Fred had died, and he was the one that had carried his body down to the Great Hall, and Molly believed that he felt a bit guilty about Fred's death. But no-one blamed him. George least of all.

Molly's smile stretched across her face as she looked at her magic clock. All the hands of her living family members were pointed at 'Home', and the relief that flooded her threatened to sweep her up and drown her in tears of joy. But she would not let that happen, as she knew that they would all go again tomorrow, and the worry and clock-watching will begin again.

But there was one hand she would never have to watch again. It was always certain that Fred would be 'Lost'. She didn't need to worry about him anymore…He was gone, safe from all the dangers of the world, and in a way, that relieved Molly a little.

For he would always be the one constant in her life, the one that kept her rational. Through his braveness and sacrifice, though causing bitterness now, he would always keep her sane as she worried incessantly about the rest of her family. Though he would never know it, his memory was one of the only things that kept her from breaking down and making her family stay at home all the time. He would have wanted them all to be happy, and live their lives as intended. And she would not stop his wishes from coming true, however much it killed her every morning to let them go.

She was Molly Weasley, and she would always work hard to make sure her family was safe and happy, for herself, and for Fred, the son who would always remain 'Lost' to the world, but not lost in their hearts...