Glass Onion
Title: Glass Onion
Author: Becca / das_kabinett
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Prompt: This for tellmeakiss
Warnings: Kissing and Children
Length: 1,600
Summary: Molly Weasley has a lot of men in her life.
A/N: Be forewarned; this fic is from Molly’s POV. And the title comes from one of my favorite Beatles songs.
Little Molly Weasley used to have six sons, a husband and two brothers. Her parents had died years ago and had been buried in a sweet little funeral smelling of orchids and pigs in a blanket. She missed her mother with every new birth and she thought that the woman would have loved little Ron, with his little grasping fingers and big eyes.
He was a lovely baby. His uncles loved him. His uncles had loved him, because as of this month, Little Molly Weasley was left with her six sons and the husband. She no longer had any brothers. In the moments after they told her, the moments where she forgot how to cry, she thought that she was spoiled for choice. With so many red-headed men surrounding her, she shouldn’t mourn about the loss of these two.
Then she cried and grieved. It had to happen eventually, but it couldn’t happen for too long. Her son Ronald was less than a year and the twins were two and devious. Everything was swirling and golden in her home, despite the lack of her brothers. And even though they weren’t there, even if she knew that, she kept on expecting them to walk around the corner. She kept on seeing Fab’s shock of orange hair - so much more violent then her own-turning the corner and stealing her food, tackling Bill or being the only individual capable of entertaining the Twins without destruction. She kept on imagine Gideon in the corner, plucking at his guitar and entrancing Arthur.
Arthur had loved her brothers. He was being very supportive to her, but she could see his sadness. She was six times a mother now; her husband couldn’t hope to keep anything from her. So she made him his favorites and kept him close, allowed him to feel the comfort without having to be comforted.
She knew how to deal with men. Molly had been dealing with men all her life.
Arthur had adored Gideon, in particular, Gideon and his odd Muggle-y ways. Molly remembered finding them nestled together on the couch within hours of meeting, at a party that was supposed to be for their engagement, Gideon leaning forward and sketching the outline of an electric guitar.
It was their funeral today. The music was terrible and both brothers would have been utterly appalled. Gideon loved most music, but Fabian was just getting out of his punk phase when he had died. His hair had been charmed back to its usual red for the open coffin and Molly hated that, no matter how much she despised the black hair when he was alive.
He would have wanted to die with his hair black or he wouldn’t have dyed it that way in the first place.
Sirius loved Fabian. He was always popping over for tea and food, trekking grease into her home and swinging her around the kitchen. He was always a bit wild and she never liked to keep him alone with her children. If he had Remus with him, however, he was a fine babysitter.
Fabian had taught Sirius to care for that infernal bike and there Sirius was, sitting crouched in a corner with Remus and James. Lily was at home, the baby was sick, and James was obviously itching to leave.
Molly made her way over, offering guests tea and water as she went. She may no longer have brothers, but she still remembered how to be a proper hostess. Her mother had taught her well, in their time together.
“You can go home, James,” Molly said, watching his eyes meet hers anxiously, “I mean it. Check on the baby.”
James obviously began to decline, so Molly interrupted him, “I mean it, James. Please?”
He shut his mouth and nodded slowly, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. Leaning forward, he hugged her. Molly noticed that he smelled like Lily’s perfume; it smelled of spices and sandalwood.
“Thank you,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said briskly, releasing him, “Babies will be babies, believe me.”
“No, I mean for, well.”
She paused and averted her eyes, following the line of the carpet in order to gain control of herself, “Oh. Well, thank you then, James. I appreciate you coming.”
“You are both family and friends to me, Molly, don’t ever forget it,” James said, kissing her whisper-soft on the cheek before apparating away. James was related to her and Sirius was related to Arthur. They were all so close to each other.
“And where is your other friend, the Peter bloke?”
Remus shrugged, “He sends his condolences, but he couldn’t make it. He’s been working non-stop at the Ministry, I bet you can imagine the chaos.”
Sirius snorted, “I work there! I can imagine the chaos and I cannot believe he couldn’t manage to get a day off.”
Remus shot him a sharp look.
“Fabs would hate this music,” Sirius said to Molly and she found herself blinking excessively.
“Yes, he would.”
“Remind me to bring you over some records,” Sirius continued, not looking at her, “He left some at my place.”
Molly grabbed a tray of food from a passing waiter (Dumbledore had paid for the funeral; she and Arthur would never be able to afford this without him) and pressed it into Remus’ hands.
“Eat up,” she said, “You’re so skinny.”
---
The next day, Remus showed up with a bouquet and Sirius with a the White Album tucked underneath his arm. It was made of lilies and she smiled, asking them if they had delivered them to perhaps the wrong redhead.
Remus had flushed and Sirius had blinked and Molly forced them both to eat.
(After Sirius took off his boots, which were, of course, utterly filthy.)
They sat around the kitchen table, Sirius and Remus smiling and laughing and two more men to add to her collection, when she heard a shriek from another room.
“Oh no!” she said, a weary sort of irritation in her voice and got to her feet. She pushed Ron into Remus’ hands, cataloging his terrified expression for future laughter, and rushed to the rescue.
Sirius’ laughter followed her out as she resolved a violent quarrel over a small toy broomstick between Percy and the twins. The two year olds were already able to manipulate the older boy; she shuddered to think of the trouble they would get into when they were older.
Crisis averted, she checked on Bill and Charlie (who were playing together moderately peacefully outside; at this point, she classified wrestling matches as peaceful) and returned the kitchen.
Remus cheeks were flushed and Ron was trying to stick his chubby little fingers up his nose. Sirius wasn’t laughing any more, but he was leaned back in his chair and smiling softly at Remus.
She froze in the doorway, watching them and feeling oddly like she was violating something sacrosanct. Molly Weasley had dealt with many men, but she hasn’t had to deal with this before.
---
Sirius and Remus visited again in about a week, bringing kisses and a cake that Remus had tried to bake. It was hard and burnt, with uneven melted icing spread uneasily around it.
“I just thought you might like it,” he said, uncertain but trying not to flush. She smiled broadly and put it on a prominent point on counter.
“I’m sure that the boys will love it,” she said, and she was right. They were hardly picky in what they ate, though Percy might not eat it. Percy had better taste than the rest of the boys; he was the only one that she could count on not to eat any worms, straight up to age eleven.
Sirius smiled in a way that made him think that he was the type to eat worms too, until she remembered how he grew up. There was no dirt in the childhood of a Black, Arthur had explained that quite clearly.
This time she set them to de-gnoming the garden, laughing as she did so.
“If you must hang around, then you will be useful!” she said, wiping off the counter. Sirius and Remus meekly complied; they seemed quite used to being ordered about. She imagined that Lily would be quite demanding; Molly was quite fond of her.
Midway through cooking dinner, she heard raised voices. Pausing for a moment, with a careful ear, she realized that it wasn’t any of her children. Little Ron was burbling happily in his crib, balanced in the corner of the kitchen and the twins were playing with spoons. Charlie and Bill were somewhere, not screaming though, and Percy never screamed.
But what could Sirius and Remus be shouting at each other about? She wiped her hands on the towel and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the whispy bits. She walked out to the garden and gasped.
Sirius had pressed Remus against the fence and seemed to be kissing him thoroughly. Remus’ hands were tangled in Sirius’ black hair and Sirius had pressed his leg in-between Remus’.
It was quite the kiss.
She closed the screen-door and went inside and fixed herself a cup of tea.
---
A few days after, they came again. Remus clutched a newspaper in his hand and he said, the moment he saw her.
“John Lennon’s been killed!”
“Gideon loved John Lennon,” Molly said.
She then laughed until tears ran down her face and kept on laughing past.
Author: Becca / das_kabinett
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Prompt: This for tellmeakiss
Warnings: Kissing and Children
Length: 1,600
Summary: Molly Weasley has a lot of men in her life.
A/N: Be forewarned; this fic is from Molly’s POV. And the title comes from one of my favorite Beatles songs.
Little Molly Weasley used to have six sons, a husband and two brothers. Her parents had died years ago and had been buried in a sweet little funeral smelling of orchids and pigs in a blanket. She missed her mother with every new birth and she thought that the woman would have loved little Ron, with his little grasping fingers and big eyes.
He was a lovely baby. His uncles loved him. His uncles had loved him, because as of this month, Little Molly Weasley was left with her six sons and the husband. She no longer had any brothers. In the moments after they told her, the moments where she forgot how to cry, she thought that she was spoiled for choice. With so many red-headed men surrounding her, she shouldn’t mourn about the loss of these two.
Then she cried and grieved. It had to happen eventually, but it couldn’t happen for too long. Her son Ronald was less than a year and the twins were two and devious. Everything was swirling and golden in her home, despite the lack of her brothers. And even though they weren’t there, even if she knew that, she kept on expecting them to walk around the corner. She kept on seeing Fab’s shock of orange hair - so much more violent then her own-turning the corner and stealing her food, tackling Bill or being the only individual capable of entertaining the Twins without destruction. She kept on imagine Gideon in the corner, plucking at his guitar and entrancing Arthur.
Arthur had loved her brothers. He was being very supportive to her, but she could see his sadness. She was six times a mother now; her husband couldn’t hope to keep anything from her. So she made him his favorites and kept him close, allowed him to feel the comfort without having to be comforted.
She knew how to deal with men. Molly had been dealing with men all her life.
Arthur had adored Gideon, in particular, Gideon and his odd Muggle-y ways. Molly remembered finding them nestled together on the couch within hours of meeting, at a party that was supposed to be for their engagement, Gideon leaning forward and sketching the outline of an electric guitar.
It was their funeral today. The music was terrible and both brothers would have been utterly appalled. Gideon loved most music, but Fabian was just getting out of his punk phase when he had died. His hair had been charmed back to its usual red for the open coffin and Molly hated that, no matter how much she despised the black hair when he was alive.
He would have wanted to die with his hair black or he wouldn’t have dyed it that way in the first place.
Sirius loved Fabian. He was always popping over for tea and food, trekking grease into her home and swinging her around the kitchen. He was always a bit wild and she never liked to keep him alone with her children. If he had Remus with him, however, he was a fine babysitter.
Fabian had taught Sirius to care for that infernal bike and there Sirius was, sitting crouched in a corner with Remus and James. Lily was at home, the baby was sick, and James was obviously itching to leave.
Molly made her way over, offering guests tea and water as she went. She may no longer have brothers, but she still remembered how to be a proper hostess. Her mother had taught her well, in their time together.
“You can go home, James,” Molly said, watching his eyes meet hers anxiously, “I mean it. Check on the baby.”
James obviously began to decline, so Molly interrupted him, “I mean it, James. Please?”
He shut his mouth and nodded slowly, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. Leaning forward, he hugged her. Molly noticed that he smelled like Lily’s perfume; it smelled of spices and sandalwood.
“Thank you,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said briskly, releasing him, “Babies will be babies, believe me.”
“No, I mean for, well.”
She paused and averted her eyes, following the line of the carpet in order to gain control of herself, “Oh. Well, thank you then, James. I appreciate you coming.”
“You are both family and friends to me, Molly, don’t ever forget it,” James said, kissing her whisper-soft on the cheek before apparating away. James was related to her and Sirius was related to Arthur. They were all so close to each other.
“And where is your other friend, the Peter bloke?”
Remus shrugged, “He sends his condolences, but he couldn’t make it. He’s been working non-stop at the Ministry, I bet you can imagine the chaos.”
Sirius snorted, “I work there! I can imagine the chaos and I cannot believe he couldn’t manage to get a day off.”
Remus shot him a sharp look.
“Fabs would hate this music,” Sirius said to Molly and she found herself blinking excessively.
“Yes, he would.”
“Remind me to bring you over some records,” Sirius continued, not looking at her, “He left some at my place.”
Molly grabbed a tray of food from a passing waiter (Dumbledore had paid for the funeral; she and Arthur would never be able to afford this without him) and pressed it into Remus’ hands.
“Eat up,” she said, “You’re so skinny.”
---
The next day, Remus showed up with a bouquet and Sirius with a the White Album tucked underneath his arm. It was made of lilies and she smiled, asking them if they had delivered them to perhaps the wrong redhead.
Remus had flushed and Sirius had blinked and Molly forced them both to eat.
(After Sirius took off his boots, which were, of course, utterly filthy.)
They sat around the kitchen table, Sirius and Remus smiling and laughing and two more men to add to her collection, when she heard a shriek from another room.
“Oh no!” she said, a weary sort of irritation in her voice and got to her feet. She pushed Ron into Remus’ hands, cataloging his terrified expression for future laughter, and rushed to the rescue.
Sirius’ laughter followed her out as she resolved a violent quarrel over a small toy broomstick between Percy and the twins. The two year olds were already able to manipulate the older boy; she shuddered to think of the trouble they would get into when they were older.
Crisis averted, she checked on Bill and Charlie (who were playing together moderately peacefully outside; at this point, she classified wrestling matches as peaceful) and returned the kitchen.
Remus cheeks were flushed and Ron was trying to stick his chubby little fingers up his nose. Sirius wasn’t laughing any more, but he was leaned back in his chair and smiling softly at Remus.
She froze in the doorway, watching them and feeling oddly like she was violating something sacrosanct. Molly Weasley had dealt with many men, but she hasn’t had to deal with this before.
---
Sirius and Remus visited again in about a week, bringing kisses and a cake that Remus had tried to bake. It was hard and burnt, with uneven melted icing spread uneasily around it.
“I just thought you might like it,” he said, uncertain but trying not to flush. She smiled broadly and put it on a prominent point on counter.
“I’m sure that the boys will love it,” she said, and she was right. They were hardly picky in what they ate, though Percy might not eat it. Percy had better taste than the rest of the boys; he was the only one that she could count on not to eat any worms, straight up to age eleven.
Sirius smiled in a way that made him think that he was the type to eat worms too, until she remembered how he grew up. There was no dirt in the childhood of a Black, Arthur had explained that quite clearly.
This time she set them to de-gnoming the garden, laughing as she did so.
“If you must hang around, then you will be useful!” she said, wiping off the counter. Sirius and Remus meekly complied; they seemed quite used to being ordered about. She imagined that Lily would be quite demanding; Molly was quite fond of her.
Midway through cooking dinner, she heard raised voices. Pausing for a moment, with a careful ear, she realized that it wasn’t any of her children. Little Ron was burbling happily in his crib, balanced in the corner of the kitchen and the twins were playing with spoons. Charlie and Bill were somewhere, not screaming though, and Percy never screamed.
But what could Sirius and Remus be shouting at each other about? She wiped her hands on the towel and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the whispy bits. She walked out to the garden and gasped.
Sirius had pressed Remus against the fence and seemed to be kissing him thoroughly. Remus’ hands were tangled in Sirius’ black hair and Sirius had pressed his leg in-between Remus’.
It was quite the kiss.
She closed the screen-door and went inside and fixed herself a cup of tea.
---
A few days after, they came again. Remus clutched a newspaper in his hand and he said, the moment he saw her.
“John Lennon’s been killed!”
“Gideon loved John Lennon,” Molly said.
She then laughed until tears ran down her face and kept on laughing past.