A Wizard's Debt

A/N: this chapter is a bit of a personal challenge, bear with me on this – I’ve never written anything like this chapter before, and it is a combination of my Grandma Mary (who is sadly no longer with us), My Grandma Amy, and my Mum. I present: my take on Molly Weasley.





Molly



For our thirtieth wedding anniversary, Arthur saved and saved to buy me a wrist-watch version of my family clock; I keep looking at the hands – Fred’s pointing to deceased. One day I’ll take the watch to the jewellers where Arthur bought it and ask them to take the hand off… but I’m not ready to do that yet.



Another glance shows that Hermione is ‘upset’. I’ve kept my eye on my watch while they were on their quest – I’ve seen Ron, Harry and Hermione’s hands point so often at ‘mortal danger’ and ‘hungry’ than I care to mention. While she’s been on these evenings out with suitors I’ve kept glancing at my watch – not once has it said ‘content’ or ‘happy’.



“Oh dear.” I muttered to Arthur, showing him the watch and pointing a badly broken fingernail at her hand.



“Well, he’s the first one to actually upset her.” Arthur replied, taking off his spectacles and cleaning them on his shirt.



“Give them here – you’ve just smudged the fingerprints all over them!” I said, slightly exasperated, Arthur has an inability to master the spectacle cleaning charm!



“I can’t get that charm right, can I?” he said, smiling at me cheekily.



“I think it’s a man-thing. Harry can’t do it either!” I chuckled. Goodness knows how many times I’ve cleaned that lad’s spectacles!



“You know, not long ago the watch said she was ‘travelling’ – do you think he took her somewhere else? Or has she come back here?” I asked Arthur; many people are still living at Hogwarts, helping with the cleanup of the castle and waiting as their homes are repaired. The Burrow was hit with some very nasty curses and practically raised to the ground. It will be easier to finish the job the Death Eaters started and completely re-build than to even think about repairing. I’ll miss the rickety place, our wedding reception was there; all my babies were conceived and born there; Bill was married there; Harry found a place he could call home there… so many memories happened within those creaking walls… and now its gone. It’s going to cost a fortune to re-build; a fortune we don’t have – and despite what the children have said, Arthur and I won’t take their hard earned money from them. We’ll manage some how, we always do.



“Ask Harry and Ron – they seem to know where absolutely everyone is in this castle!” he said, squinting – a sure sign he’s thinking. And that usually isn’t a good thing… I love him entirely, but sometimes I just want to hit him over the head with my dishcloth.



“Harry, dear, do you know where Hermione is?” I asked, interrupting his close conversation with Ginny. He’s a good lad, a bit lost in the world; but has a lot to give to a marriage. He has a few problems – who doesn’t, but with a family who loves him, and he will be proper family when he and Ginny are wed, he’ll recover and come into himself. He’s smiling so much now, he’s more confident and Ginny has him firmly wrapped around her little finger – as every wife should do with her husband. Even Witch Weekly says so! Keep ‘em on a tight rein and have them firmly under your thumb at all times.



“Erm… why would I know that?” he stuttered slightly, looking defensive. He’s up to something.



“You and Ron always seem to know where anyone is while in the castle.” I said, looking at him.



“Oh – erm… it’s a bit of a secret how I know that. Give me a minute.” He said. Rummaging in his backpack for a piece of parchment before wandering off to a secluded area. Well, everyone has secrets. Not that I like my boys having secrets.



“She’s with Snape in his private lab.” He said, puzzled, tugging at his rapidly growing hair. It looks quite fetching long, actually lying flat; but it’s starting to cover those lovely emerald eyes.



“She’s spent a lot of time with him recently. She likes talking to him and working on potions for Poppy.” Arthur supplied, squinting.



“Its not right, though.” Ron said, joining in what looked like a family debate. Oh, the discussions we’ve had around that worn kitchen table at the Burrow! The family’s discussed everything from killing Droxys to Dark Lords! But we haven’t got the time to indulge in one now! One of the adopted brood needs me!



“No. Its not right that she’s upset and doesn’t come to us! I’m going to find the girl and see what I can do.” I said, rolling up my sleeves before moving out of the Ravenclaw common room to the dungeons. Even after all these years I still know my way, its quite scary really.



“We’ll come too!” Harry and Ron said simultaneously – you’d think I’d had two sets of twins with those two.



“No boys, this needs a woman’s touch.” I said, patting their heads as I left the room to find Hermione.



***



“Its alright.” Severus whispered into her mass of curls. I think I tried seven potions from Witch Weekly to tame her hair – and none of them made any difference; though potions were never my strong point. I can prepare a full four course meal with complex ingredients and awkward preparation styles, but can’t brew quite a few potions. I have the same trouble with my own hair, though it isn’t nearly as thick… I have a very slight suspicion that the cosmetic potions in the magazine might not work.



“Its not. Not really.” She sobbed, burying her face in his chest as his arms tightened around her. I’ve never seen a situation so striking but so sad.



“What’s the matter, dear?” I asked, moving over and rubbing her back and pulling her into my bosom as she turned into me.



“Its hopeless.” She whimpered, crying quietly into my shoulder. One thing about this girl, she’s ever so quiet when she’s emotional. You can tell something’s wrong if she’s quiet. Even when she’s reading and lost in a book she makes little noises, like mouse squeaks almost.



“What is? Did the evening out with the prospective husband go badly?”



“That’s an understatement.” She said, rummaging in her robes for a hanky.



“Here, dear. Its one of Arthur’s, but its clean.” I said, handing over the red and green chequered fabric. It was actually once one of Arthur’s favourite shirts. I’m no fashion queen, but it looked awful on him. I couldn’t wait to cut it up into cleaning rags, but it was so soft that it became hankies.



“Its awful, Molly.” She smiled slightly at the hideous fabric before wiping her face and nose.



“I know, and I tell him frequently. He doesn’t like white ones – he think’s he’s blowing his nose on his shirt!” I smiled at the memory of Arthur actually mistaking his shirttails for a hanky and blowing his nose on it. Its one reason that I shorten his shirts so he can’t pull them through the holes in his robes. Robes have holes in them to get to pockets, otherwise you’d have to undress to get to things. A clever idea, but Arthur does get his hankies and shirts confused every so often. Its one of the reason I want to hit him with my dishrag sometimes.



“What happened, dear?” I asked, noting how she was calming down and breathing easier.



“Don’t ask. It wasn’t nice.” She shivered, pulling her cape on.



“Ah. Well, who’s next on the maybe list?” I asked, trying to bring something good to such a bad situation. The Ministry are going about this the wrong way in my opinion. Yes, I have a large family; and there were jokes made that I was permanently pregnant and the Burrow was so named due to various rabbit references… but the truth is that Arthur and I wanted a large family and love each other and every one of them – even the adopted ones: Harry, Hermione, Luna and Neville. Those four need a Mother figure. But having witches and wizards so young marrying and having babies won’t turn out well – mark my words, this will be a disaster! Too soon, too young, too inexperienced.



“That was the last of the maybes, Molly.” She whispered, looking up from under a cloud of curls with heavily blood-shot eyes.



“Ah.” I said, thinking how I can make this better.



“There is one option left, and I’m more than a bit reluctant to take it – but I’m running out of time and out of choices too.” She said, hanging her head.



“Who, dear?” I asked, pulling out a bench for us to sit on.



“Severus.” She whispered, looking at him with a mixed expression of fear, hope and something I can’t work out.



“Well… erm… he’s certainly a good man – a bit lost along the way, but a good man; a smart man too, you’d need a smart man; I can cope with one that’s not the shiniest cauldron in the cupboard – but you couldn’t… but society wouldn’t like it one bit.” I said honestly, don’t mice your words with this one; she’s too smart for that.



“Society doesn’t like anything that isn’t Vogue.” Severus grumbled, “Society are sheep that can’t form their own opinions. If society does not approve, then I would take that as a good thing.”



“Do you know, Severus, Hermione said the same thing to me not so long ago… extraordinary.”



“It is true!” they both said, at the same time. There’s hope with this match.



“Well, if you ask me – and I know you haven’t, but I shall tell you anyway – if you go into this marriage with respect and then gain each other’s trust then it will survive through time. You don’t love each other, and it would be silly to say so; but you are very similar but different enough that you won’t drive each other mad. Yes, there is an age gap, but Severus, you aren’t an old man yet – you could easily reach two-hundred! And you’re what? Forty?”



“Thirty-nine.” He hissed. Oh dear, what is it with men and the big four-oh? It’s just a number. Once they hit the fifties then its all alright again, but the forties are an odd one with the fellas.



“Thirty-nine,” I mocked slightly, “I say get the ring, get married sharp-ish before the ‘sheep’ get nasty with you and have a go at being happy together.”



“What do you think?” Hermione asked Severus.



“As a last resort, it isn’t the worst option.” He replied, rubbing his forehead.



“I was thinking along the same lines.” She looked between us, “Would Arthur give me away?” she said quietly.



“I don’t think you’d even have to ask him. You’ve been an honorary Weasley for a long time – and though I’m a little sad that you won’t become an actual Weasley, I want you to be happy, and that man standing there is your best option.”



“Thank-you for your opinion, Molly. It matters quite a bit to me.” She said, moving to stand next to Severus, looking into his obsidian eyes.



“Oooh – and talking of actual Weasleys!” I said, bouncing slightly with the good news, “George has asked the Ministry for permission to Marry Luna! Couldn’t get a better combination than those two! Perfect for each other! And she’s making him smile – I haven’t seen him smile since Fred… well, since it happened. And Ron has met a lovely lady from Dumstrang! I didn’t think Dumstrang taught girls, but since what’s-his-name, him who used to be headmaster? Well, whatever-he’s-called left and Dumstrang opened its doors to girls too!” I said, ever so excited about all of my babies getting married – think of all the grandbabies to fuss over! “Its early days, but I think it will last – they’re so similar and she keeps him calm.”



“That’s wonderful!” Hermione said, hugging me. She’s still too thin, stress does horrible things to the digestive system; maybe with this marriage law sorted part-way for her will help her gain the weight she lost. I might have to fatten up Severus too, he’s like a mouse – picking at his food.



“Now – I’ll leave you two alone and explain to the others.” I looked at Severus for a moment, contemplating the reactions of the family, “Put some good wards on your rooms, there might be a bit of an outcry at the news.” Perhaps there’d be a bit more of an outcry… couldn’t always tell with the Weasley men, they are rather protective over their ladies – and Hermione is considered one of them.



“I wouldn’t dare not ward my rooms, Molly.” Severus chuckled, no doubt imagining the ruckus this will cause. “Though, if you will give me a moment – I had better do this properly. Starting on the right foot, and all that.”



He walked through the door to his rooms and returned a moment later with a beautifully carved wooden box, the grey wood inlayed with little wisps of silver. He placed the small box next to his cauldron and carefully eased the creaking lid open, carefully easing out grey, velvet-lined compartments and boxes.



“This is all I have of my Mother’s – my Father never knew of this and would have sold it if he had.” He carefully opened compartments looking at the items of jewellery, obviously searching for something.



“They need a bit of a polish – the metals are tarnished.” Hermione whispered, carefully holding a string of small pink pearls and peering into the box. She ran her finger gently over the runes on the top of the box. “Interesting, it’s a spell…”



“I’ve only ever been through this box once, I just left it in the back of my wardrobe until recently, I really don’t know what’s in…” his words cut off as a secret compartment folded out revealing a single piece of very thin parchment.



“That confirms it – I just thought the words of the spell and it opened.” Hermione said.



Severus very carefully opened the letter and read it quickly, black eyes darting quickly over the words. “To summarise, Mother was telling me to give the jewellery to my wife, and to take care of her like she was the most precious jewel in existence.” He opened another box and was presented with five rings; he took a lengthy glance at Hermione before deciding on one, carefully packing the compartments away and folding the letter into his robe inner pocket.



“Hermione Granger, even if this marriage of last resort is not the circumstance that my Mother would wish for her jewellery to be used; would you do me the honour of being my wife?” he asked, holding a wide silver band with many tiny gem flowers inlayed into it. Diamonds formed the centres, and the six petals of each flower were constructed from different coloured stones. Such a beautiful piece of jewellery, and so unique – just like the young woman who was looking at him with wide eyes.



“If I can’t manage to find you a garden to tend to straight away, you can at least wear one.” He said, bringing Hermione’s attention back to him and his proposal. I watched, my presence forgotten for the moment.



“Yes, Severus Snape, I’ll marry you.” She said, watching as the tiny ring expanded by another two different coloured flowers to accommodate her larger finger.



“I’ll go spread the word.” I said, realising Hermione still had Arthur’s hankie when I realised a few little tears of joy had escaped. Looking down at my watch, Hermione’s hand was pointing to: ‘Content’.