Mother to the power of two
Author’s Note: This is the direct sequel to Luna Lovegood and the Dark Portrait Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, J.K. Rowling and Joss Whedon do. Thanks very much to my Beta, Letomo, but all mistakes are still mine. The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. Speech:
“Who’s on first.” Thought:
*What’s on second.
#I-don’t-know’s on third.# Many thanks to my reviewers, it is much appreciated and as you know, inspiring. Chapter 4 Mother to the power of two
The fireplace in the Headmaster’s office burst into green flames and Dumbledore looked up from his writing, disturbed. “Can I help you?”
“You can let us through, Headmaster.” Molly said firmly.
“Mrs. Weasley? What ever is the matter?” Dumbledore rose and went to the floo to receive his guests, waving to remove the ward that kept it blocked except for calls.
“You know very well what is the matter Albus Dumbledore! A Dementor got at the children.” Molly said as she stepped through, wiping off the soot with flick of her wand and reaching out to steady Jean as she followed, flicking her clean as well “And we are here to see them.”
“Mrs. Weasley, it’s against school rules to…” Albus Dumbledore suddenly blinked and tried to focus on the tip of the wand that was a bare inch from his nose and about an inch more from his twinkly blue eyes.
“And it’s not against school rules to hire a child rapist? You had better not get in my way, Albus, or I’ll withdraw every one of my children from this school and send them to Beauxbatons, and get all my friends to do the same.”
Jean nodded. “At least they’ll learn one foreign language. Really, the curriculum here is dreadfully bare.”
Albus moved slightly, the wand moved with him. “Err…Molly?”
“Yes, Albus?” Molly said sweetly.
“There really is no need for threats. I was going to say that I was going to make an exception.” He looked keenly at the two women. “I’d invite the Dursleys if I thought it would not make matters worse. I was writing you a letter.” He waved a hand and a parchment flew from his desk into it. He shook his head. “I must admit I never imagined you showing up without an invitation. Which is actually rather silly of me.” He mused, thoughtfully.
Molly smiled. “Maybe a little. I assume they are all in the Common Rooms?”
Dumbledore coughed, amused. “I believe that Hermione is in the Library and that Ron and Harry are, err…out and about? And I think Ginny is moping slightly in the common room, yes.” He twinkled. “Now, Molly I know you occasionally look after Rook House when Xeno is away and before I send an owl to Moscow, could you tell me if he is home?”
Molly nodded her head. “He’s sitting at home, looking at a picture of Soleil, Luna and himself that Arthur took for them. He did that for a week last year and I only found out after two days. The man would have starved if I hadn’t fed him.”
Albus Dumbledore nodded, sadly. “Yes. I see. Well, I’m sure your children will be delighted to see you.” He squared his shoulders. “I have to write a letter to Augusta Longbottom.”
Molly put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be relatively understanding, Albus. Now, we’ll go and see to children.”
Jean followed Molly out of the Headmaster’s office, down the stairs and into the corridors of Hogwarts. Molly set of at a brisk walk, then suddenly came to a stop.
Luna looked up from the book she was reading while walking along the corridor. Myrtle looked relieved at the distraction. “Oh, hello Mrs. Weasley.” Luna replied rather vaguely. Then she returned to her book and wandered off.
Myrtle floated to Molly. “Mrs. Weasley? I-I realize it is a lot to ask, but could you talk to Luna? She’s been different ever since the train and she, well, she’s too cheerful.”
Molly scowled. “No trouble at all dear. Did she say anything about what the Dementor did?”
Myrtle leaned in to whisper. “She had a nightmare after the feast. She kept calling out for her Maman.”
Molly shook her head. “Merlin, the poor girl. Go after her, would you, dear? We’ll go and talk to Ron, Ginny and Hermione and pick up Harry as well. Xeno should be here soon and maybe even Augusta Longbottom.”
“Oh, good!” Myrtle waved and floated quickly after the distraught blond.
“Her mother?” Jean asked, as they walked on.
“Soleil died while experimenting with a new spell, or researching an old one, the Ministry never published its report. Luna…was there.”
Jean put a hand to her mouth, horrified. “The poor girl, how horrible!”
“Yes. I just hope that Xeno will be able to get through to her.”
Ginny scowled at the image she saw in the bathroom mirror, her hair hung lank and uninteresting around her face, unlike the strands of pale gold that seemed to flow around Luna’s and that held Harry so captivated.
“Ginny? What are you doing?”
Ginny spun around, her eyes wide at her mother’s voice. “Mum?” She ducked into her mother’s arms and then stiffened. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Molly sighed. “No, you didn’t. Except you still don’t listen. That seems to be a family trait however. I’m not here to punish you, lovey, just to comfort.” She drew her daughter close and ran a hand over the girl’s hair. “And trust me; hair dyeing spells are not a good idea.”
Ginny blushed looking up. “You tried it?”
“I thought your father might prefer blondes.” Molly’s mouth quirked. “I was wrong, he preferred her broomstick.”
Ginny giggled, then sobered again. “I think Harry’s in love with Luna.”
Molly blinked. “Really? What makes you think that?”
“He tried to make a toothpick out of one of his hairs for her.” Ginny said, downcast.
Molly raised an eyebrow. “I think you may be overreacting. Now come on, I want to talk to Ron as well.”
Ginny nodded. “Hermione cried last night, Lavender told Parvati and I overheard. M-maybe…”
“Mrs. Granger is here too, we came together. The Headmaster has sent for Mrs. Longbottom and Mr. Lovegood as well. But it’s very good of you to think about it.” Molly warmly complimented her daughter.
“Aren’t you still angry with me?” Ginny asked in a tiny voice.
“No. I’ve been worried about you, slightly annoyed and exasperated, but not angry, not since you all got out of the hospital.”
“But you had me do chores every
summer!” Ginny pointed out as her mother led her out of the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.
“No, I told you to keep the garden free of Gnomes to an acceptable level. I also told you, twice, to ask Fred and George to teach you how.”
Ginny glared at her mother. “They would have pulled pranks!”
“And you’d have gotten back at them. Instead you went to your father, who I love dearly, but who can’t de-gnome a garden any more than he can bake blackberry muffins.” Molly pointed out dryly. “Which meant that a simple, bi-weekly chore became a great battle between you and the Gnomes.” Molly paused a beat. “You lost, by the way.”
“Mum!” Ginny whined. Then her face became thoughtful. “Why didn’t you tell me this summer? That you weren’t angry?”
“I did. I also thought all the hugs and kisses might make it clear. But your father pointed out that the sort of thrall cast by a…thing…like that Diary would not be easy to throw off.” Molly pulled her daughter closer. “Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick spent days casting spells to find out if there was a part of it in you, if you were still under his influence.” Molly stopped in the hallway between the bath- and common rooms and hugged Ginny.
“I-I should have told…”
“You were scared and lonely and uncertain. The only time you could have told us was right after you found out, before he first got his claws into you. After that it was a wonder you were able to even dare and try to get free.”
“Ron almost got killed because of me. And the people who were petrified...”
“Ginny, you’re twelve. People much more powerful and older than you were brought under his thrall. You were anxious and upset and an easy target.” Molly ruffled Ginny’s dark red hair. “And if you ever do anything like that again, I will make what I did to Fred after he gave Ron Acid Pops look like a day at the Quidditch match, understood?” Her voice was severe and without any trace of humour.
Ginny swallowed. “Yes, Mum.” All the Weasley children remembered the punishment meted out that day. The bristles of Molly’s broomstick had been eyed with great fear from that day on, but never had one Weasley intentionally hurt another after that.
Molly put an arm around Ginny. “Let’s go find your brother and Harry.”
The Library door opened and a strange woman in Muggle clothing came in, drawing gasps from the pupils in the room. Hermione did not look up, concentrated as she was on her work.
Jean Granger smiled a little at the sight of her daughter engrossed in her reading and studies. She pushed the spectacles further up her nose, reminding herself to thank Luna and her father again, and walked up to the table, gently reached out and picked up one of the books.
“Hey! I’m reading that! Honestly, that’s just so rude…” Hermione had gone into full indignant flow before she saw who had taken the book. She gulped, dropped her quill and was in Jean’s arms faster than anyone watching thought possible.
“Mum.” She whispered. “Is Dad here too?”
“No, apparently someone has a difficult filling.”
Hermione grinned. ‘A difficult filling’ was dad-speak for ‘my girls need some time alone.’ Iphigenia had told her that her Uncle Kyle was exactly the same.
Madam Pince coughed and Hermione nodded, leading her mother from the room. “C’mon Mum, we’ll let them study in peace.”
Harry and Ron were flying low and passing a ball between them, to sharpen their flying skills and Ron’s keeping abilities. The sudden appearance of Mrs. Weasley by the side of the pitch halted the game.
“Ronald Bilius Weasley! That is no way to fly a broom!”
Ron winced and drew himself upright, landing beside his mother, his face burning scarlet in mortification.
Molly took the broom from him and Ron cringed as Malfoy snickered. “Not old enough to go out flying, Weasley?”
Molly eyed the young Malfoy and she sniffed. “No young man, he’s old enough to learn how to fly properly
.” She held her hand above the ground and the broom hovered obediently. Tucking her skirts around her, Molly mount, clinched her ankles around the shaft just above the bristles, seized the handle, took off at an angle of about seventy degrees, made a hairpin turn about three meters up, swung the broom upside down with a deft flick of her foot and with one hand outstretched roared past Malfoy, grabbing the practice bat from a surprised Goyle and swung upright again, flew straight at Ron, pulled up just in time, the bristles ruffling his hair, made a half loop and a corkscrew, flew back and came to sedate stop two feet away from her open mouthed children.
is how you fly a broom. See that you do it properly next time, Ron.”
She handed the broom back to him and Ron looked between it and his mother as if he’d just seen water burn without magic. “Where did you learn to do that?” Ron finally managed to ask.
“Doing shopping for one absentminded husband and seven children, dropping the occasional item and having to dive for it.” Molly replied, smiling. Then she winked. “And I tried out for Chaser in School, but when your father nearly fainted during the trials, I gave up on it.”
Fred and George, who’d run up to the field with half the school behind them, grinned. “Nevertheless,”
“Some awesome flying.”
“Indeed. It was a great disappointment to me when you decided that keeping Arthur’s palpitations under control was more important than the Cup. Hello Molly.” Professor McGonagall said.
Molly turned around and smiled at Minerva. “Hello Minerva. I hope you are well?”
“Quite well, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’ll take you to my sitting room and go for a walk while you talk with the children.”
Molly nodded. “Why thank you, Minerva.” She walked back to the castle, followed by her offspring. She cast a wandless Silencio
and looked at Minerva askance. “What happened to no visits from parents during the year?”
year.” Minerva replied dryly. “I’ll advise Albus to set aside some rooms for parents to meet their children. Possibly arrange for weekend leave for special occasions.” She sighed. “It will differentiate between the wizards and the –“
“Normal-born.” Molly said firmly.
Minerva’s mouth quirked. “Normal-born, whose parents can’t apparate.”
“Hmmm. Maybe we could set up some sort of rotating schedule…” Molly mused.
Minerva smiled. “What did you say to Albus by the way? He’s been writing letters to all the parents about the Dementors and that he will do his utmost to keep the pupils safe. And he wrote Augusta Longbottom.”
Molly winced. “I may have rather strongly told him that if he ever again allowed any of my children be in such danger without full disclosure, I would…remove certain parts of his anatomy.”
Minerva let out a laugh. “Well, you certainly got his attention. And high time too. Even a few parents’ weekends would ease the strain, and on the Faculty too.”
Molly smiled. “I’m glad you approve.”
Luna Lovegood saw the cavalcade of Weasleys enter the school again from the high window where she sat. She saw Harry being dragged in by Mrs. Weasley, She heard the greeting of Mrs. Granger. She saw the upright form of Mrs. Longbottom crossing the bridge after apparating in near the outer gates. She wasn’t sure if Neville would be pleased or not. She sniffled a little, wiping away her tears quickly, before Myrtle saw them and reported to Professor Flitwick or Madam Pomfrey, or Merlin forbid, Mr. Portrait.
“So sad, Daughter of my Sun?” A warm voice asked gently.
Luna spun round, almost falling from the window seat. Her father was standing behind her, having walked up on his soft shoes, the same way he could sneak up on even the most wary of wild creatures.
“Hello Luna.” Xenophilius extended his arms and Luna jumped into them. He caught her and swung her round, her head pressed into his shoulder, soothing her sobs. “I know little one, I know. I miss her too.”
“Aren’t you going to see your mother?” Penelope asked as Percy ushered a frightened first year into the Great Hall.
“I have responsibilities, Penelope.” Percy replied seriously.
Penelope rolled her eyes. “Going to your Mum and giving her a hug and a kiss is not going to cut that desperately into your time that you can’t be back here in time to help the entire
staff keep an eye on them, Percy.”
“Nevertheless, I feel my place is here.”
“Right. Your place is here. Well, excuse me then, while I go greet your mother.” Penelope stalked off, leaving Percy to stare after her in bewilderment.