Molly Weasley (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} motherhen) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} rent_asunder,@ 2008-03-15 22:54:00 |
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WHO: Molly and Draco
WHAT: Conversation
WHEN: 15 March, during the wedding reception.
WHERE: The kitchen
RATING: PGish
Log started, continuing in comments.
Draco hated leaving his room and did so as little as possible. If it wasn't for Minerva bringing him a meal now and again, Draco might have even starved. As it was, he had only a slight appetite and barely ate the food he was offered. Part of the issue was his stomach was used to little food, but most of it was his nerves. He wasn't comfortable in the house at all. Sure, he rather enjoyed Anthony and appreciated Remus and Minerva's kindness, but it was clear most were unhappy with his presence. Especially his 'cousin' Tonks. While he didn't blame her for the ill will, he did believe she was acting unfairly. He had not disowned her or killed her parents. Besides, anyone who saw Draco had to see he was little more than a kicked puppy. He didn't wish to be best mates, but he had hoped she wouldn't consider him a murderer waiting to kill Remus.
Still, he had to go to the bathroom once in awhile and so ventured to do so late Saturday evening. He knew Tonks and Remus were marrying in the Outside Room and avoided the area. He was not insulted by the lack of invite; he hadn't expected it. Of course, he hadn't expected the affair to be rubbed in his face either. Trying to put Tonks' words out of his mind, he quickly finished up in the loo and walked quietly downstairs to fetch a bit of water. He took the pitcher from the fridge and started to pour himself a glass, oblivious to approaching footsteps.
Molly Weasley wasn't a fool. Draco Malfoy had been living at Headquarters for near a week now, and he hadn't once been down for meals. Minerva had brought him plates of food, of course, but Molly hadn't seen the boy herself, not even once. She'd been wary at first, of course, of Draco's presence in their home, their sanctuary, but Remus was an excellent judge of character, as was Anthony Goldstein, the dear boy. And it was through their collective acceptance of Draco that Molly had decided that perhaps the poor dear deserved a chance. He was only a child, after all, and Molly had vowed long ago never to leave a child needing.
Remus and Tonks' wedding had been beautiful, and there were still celebrations going on in the Outside Room, but Molly excused herself, padding down the stairs toward the kitchen. A happy occasion, to be sure, but one that made her miss Arthur something dreadful. She had intended to make herself a cup of chamomile tea and head off to bed, but the sight of Draco standing in front of the ice box made her pause.
The boy was simply scrawny. He'd long ago surpassed simply "thin," and Molly had the incredible urge to gather him up into a proper hug and not let go for a long while. She didn't think he would much appreciate that, though, so she only cleared her throat gently. "Would you like something to eat, dear?"
Draco startled at the interrupting. Spinning around, his eyes took in the sight of Molly Weasley. Draco had only seen the woman at the train and during Diagon Alley excursions, but there was no mistaking that the red-haired woman before him was Mrs. Weasley. Draco felt his heart drop. While he had never said anything directly to the woman, he knew his father had. Besides, Ron had undoubtedly informed her of Draco's horrid school antics. He swallowed hard, hoping his fear was not written in his facial features. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley." He attempted to smile, but wasn't sure it landed.
"Hello, Draco," Molly replied warmly, trying to put the boy at ease. He looked as if he'd run off at any moment and she certainly didn't want to spook him, so she stayed where she was standing in the doorway, smiling gently. "Would you like something to eat?" she asked again. "I was about to have a cup of tea and some biscuits, if you'd like to join me."
Draco knew it would be rude to dash off, but he really really really really didn't want to stay. "No, thank you, I'm fine." Of course, looking at him, anyone would know he was anything but fine. "I…nice to meet you. Properly, I mean." Oh, Salazar, he was rambling.
Blast. How was she supposed to put some meat on those bones if he wouldn't stay with her and eat something? "Please, I insist. You haven't been down for any meals, and I'd like a chance to talk with you. A few biscuits never hurt anyone. Sit," Molly coaxed, finally stepping into the kitchen and putting the kettle on as she watched Draco out of the corner of his eye. So thin. And if he'd stayed where he was... Oh, she didn't even want to think about it. The poor dear. "How are you getting along with Anthony?" she asked, attempting to start a conversation. Perhaps if she showed him that she wasn't going to hurt him he would relax a little and stop looking like a startled fawn, ready to dart away at the first sign of trouble.
Well, the good little pure-blooded boy knew he couldn't leave then. Resigned, he moved a bit away so she could go about the kitchen. "Anthony's been very kind. I'm blessed." Once upon a time, he'd have said he was blessed for having money and clout. Those days, it was for being alive and small acts of kindness. Funny how times changed.
"I'm glad you're getting on," Molly murmured, pulling the jar of biscuits from the shelf and spreading a selection out on a plate. "He's such a dear boy, but I worry about him sometimes. Has he been sleeping, do you know? The silly thing gets it into his head sometimes that sleep isn't an essential part of life, and he'll stay up for days until someone finds him passed out somewhere." She shook her head slightly, placing the plate of biscuits in the center of the table and waving for Draco to help himself.
Draco really didn't wish to eat any of the offered biscuits, but moved to the table nonetheless. "Off and on, I believe." Draco didn't wish to betray Anthony's actions even if Molly's wanting to know was out of legit concern. Thus, he left his reply as vague as possible. He, on the other hand, had taken to sleeping too much. It was a complete 360 from his former life, but it was easier to sleep and not think about his circumstances or missing father. He was also terrified that his mother was being tortured. He blamed himself, but knew he was in a better position to help him now. He picked up a biscuit and chewed a tiny piece from the corner. "Thank you."
Molly gave him a gentle smile, pulling a teacup from the cupboard for herself. "You're welcome, dear. Would you like some tea?" she asked, hand hovering over another cup. If he wouldn't eat the biscuits, and it didn't seem like he would, the way he was just nibbling, maybe he would have a cuppa. She hoped so, at least. The boy in front of her was a far cry from the snobbish child she'd expected, and she very much wanted to earn his trust, if only so he would let her feed him.
Tea? No. No. Conversation always happened over tea. That much Draco realized. "No, thank you. I've my water." To illustrate, he held up his glass before taking a sip. Nervously, his free hand found the table cloth that was dangling right above his knee. He pulled at a loose thread, wondering what he should say next. "I…it was kind of George to bring the free journal."
Another plan ruined. Molly left the second teacup in the cupboard, easing into the chair across from Draco as she waited for the water to boil. Starting a conversation was a good sign, at least, and Molly nodded, helping herself to one of the chocolate biscuits. "He's a good boy. And he's finally starting to let himself be happy again." Oh, this was heading into a direction Molly didn't want to go, not tonight. Perhaps it would be safer to try and talk about Draco. The poor dear probably didn't have many people to turn to in this house yet. "...Were you able to contact your mother and let her know you're well?" Molly asked softly, hoping she wasn't over-stepping her boundaries.
Draco nodded. "She hasn't responded though." His eyes lowered; he didn't wish to allow her to see the emotion hidden there. "Father is missing as well." It was stupid, really. Why would Molly Weasley give a damn about that?
At that moment, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy weren't the patriarchs of the family that the Weasleys had been feuding with for years. They were Draco's parents, and Molly wished more than anything that she could find them for him. "I'm so sorry, dear," she murmured.
Surprised, Draco allowed his gaze to meet Molly's. "Really?" He blushed the moment the question was posed. He felt like a stupid little boy. "Sorry," He mumbled.
"Of course I am, dear," Molly assured him, electing to flick her wand at the kettle and pour her tea by magic when it started whistling, rather than leave Draco at the table. "They're your parents, first and foremost." Oh, how she wanted to reach across the table and pat his hand, but she couldn't risk frightening him away.
"Parents who didn't treat you very well." Draco wasn't sure why he felt the need to remind Molly of that, but the words came out regardless. He licked his lips in another anxious move. "I'm keeping you. The wedding…"
"But still your parents." She shook her head gently when Draco brought up the wedding, carefully summoning her teacup from the counter. "You aren't keeping me, Draco. The ceremony was finished earlier, and everyone is celebrating. It was getting a little too loud for my taste, if you want the truth. I would much rather have a simple conversation with you."
"With me?" Draco's tone was incredulous. "I've nothing interesting to say, Mrs. Weasley." She should have smacked him or yelled or…anything. His own bloody cousin had attacked him, hadn't she? And Remus had even admitted Sirius would have wanted nothing to do with him. The only people who cared about what Draco Malfoy had to say were his parents and they were…Salazar knew where.
"I've enjoyed our conversation so far," Molly told him gently, taking a sip of her tea. "And please, dear, call me Molly."
"Thank you." Draco wasn't quite sure if that was the correct thing to say, but he couldn't think of anything more fitting either. Draco felt his eyes water and cursed himself. He blinked quickly, trying to pretend something had simply gotten in his eyes. She was being too kind, too warm, too motherly. Draco wanted his own mum, not some substitute who felt sorry for him.
Molly very carefully ignored the moisture in Draco's eyes, sure he wouldn't want her calling attention to it. "You're welcome, dear," she said quietly. "...If you ever need anything, Draco, I want you to just ask."
"Why?" It was the same question he had asked of Remus, but at least the man had once been his professor. Molly had no reason to be friendly to the boy.
"Because that's what I'm here for," she told him, sending him a gentle smile. "The people living in this house are my family, and I do what I can to take care of them. ...I know that you have no reason to trust me, Draco, but I want you to know that you can. You're a part of this family now, as messy and thrown together as we are."
WHAT: Conversation
WHEN: 15 March, during the wedding reception.
WHERE: The kitchen
RATING: PGish
Log started, continuing in comments.
Draco hated leaving his room and did so as little as possible. If it wasn't for Minerva bringing him a meal now and again, Draco might have even starved. As it was, he had only a slight appetite and barely ate the food he was offered. Part of the issue was his stomach was used to little food, but most of it was his nerves. He wasn't comfortable in the house at all. Sure, he rather enjoyed Anthony and appreciated Remus and Minerva's kindness, but it was clear most were unhappy with his presence. Especially his 'cousin' Tonks. While he didn't blame her for the ill will, he did believe she was acting unfairly. He had not disowned her or killed her parents. Besides, anyone who saw Draco had to see he was little more than a kicked puppy. He didn't wish to be best mates, but he had hoped she wouldn't consider him a murderer waiting to kill Remus.
Still, he had to go to the bathroom once in awhile and so ventured to do so late Saturday evening. He knew Tonks and Remus were marrying in the Outside Room and avoided the area. He was not insulted by the lack of invite; he hadn't expected it. Of course, he hadn't expected the affair to be rubbed in his face either. Trying to put Tonks' words out of his mind, he quickly finished up in the loo and walked quietly downstairs to fetch a bit of water. He took the pitcher from the fridge and started to pour himself a glass, oblivious to approaching footsteps.
Molly Weasley wasn't a fool. Draco Malfoy had been living at Headquarters for near a week now, and he hadn't once been down for meals. Minerva had brought him plates of food, of course, but Molly hadn't seen the boy herself, not even once. She'd been wary at first, of course, of Draco's presence in their home, their sanctuary, but Remus was an excellent judge of character, as was Anthony Goldstein, the dear boy. And it was through their collective acceptance of Draco that Molly had decided that perhaps the poor dear deserved a chance. He was only a child, after all, and Molly had vowed long ago never to leave a child needing.
Remus and Tonks' wedding had been beautiful, and there were still celebrations going on in the Outside Room, but Molly excused herself, padding down the stairs toward the kitchen. A happy occasion, to be sure, but one that made her miss Arthur something dreadful. She had intended to make herself a cup of chamomile tea and head off to bed, but the sight of Draco standing in front of the ice box made her pause.
The boy was simply scrawny. He'd long ago surpassed simply "thin," and Molly had the incredible urge to gather him up into a proper hug and not let go for a long while. She didn't think he would much appreciate that, though, so she only cleared her throat gently. "Would you like something to eat, dear?"
Draco startled at the interrupting. Spinning around, his eyes took in the sight of Molly Weasley. Draco had only seen the woman at the train and during Diagon Alley excursions, but there was no mistaking that the red-haired woman before him was Mrs. Weasley. Draco felt his heart drop. While he had never said anything directly to the woman, he knew his father had. Besides, Ron had undoubtedly informed her of Draco's horrid school antics. He swallowed hard, hoping his fear was not written in his facial features. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley." He attempted to smile, but wasn't sure it landed.
"Hello, Draco," Molly replied warmly, trying to put the boy at ease. He looked as if he'd run off at any moment and she certainly didn't want to spook him, so she stayed where she was standing in the doorway, smiling gently. "Would you like something to eat?" she asked again. "I was about to have a cup of tea and some biscuits, if you'd like to join me."
Draco knew it would be rude to dash off, but he really really really really didn't want to stay. "No, thank you, I'm fine." Of course, looking at him, anyone would know he was anything but fine. "I…nice to meet you. Properly, I mean." Oh, Salazar, he was rambling.
Blast. How was she supposed to put some meat on those bones if he wouldn't stay with her and eat something? "Please, I insist. You haven't been down for any meals, and I'd like a chance to talk with you. A few biscuits never hurt anyone. Sit," Molly coaxed, finally stepping into the kitchen and putting the kettle on as she watched Draco out of the corner of his eye. So thin. And if he'd stayed where he was... Oh, she didn't even want to think about it. The poor dear. "How are you getting along with Anthony?" she asked, attempting to start a conversation. Perhaps if she showed him that she wasn't going to hurt him he would relax a little and stop looking like a startled fawn, ready to dart away at the first sign of trouble.
Well, the good little pure-blooded boy knew he couldn't leave then. Resigned, he moved a bit away so she could go about the kitchen. "Anthony's been very kind. I'm blessed." Once upon a time, he'd have said he was blessed for having money and clout. Those days, it was for being alive and small acts of kindness. Funny how times changed.
"I'm glad you're getting on," Molly murmured, pulling the jar of biscuits from the shelf and spreading a selection out on a plate. "He's such a dear boy, but I worry about him sometimes. Has he been sleeping, do you know? The silly thing gets it into his head sometimes that sleep isn't an essential part of life, and he'll stay up for days until someone finds him passed out somewhere." She shook her head slightly, placing the plate of biscuits in the center of the table and waving for Draco to help himself.
Draco really didn't wish to eat any of the offered biscuits, but moved to the table nonetheless. "Off and on, I believe." Draco didn't wish to betray Anthony's actions even if Molly's wanting to know was out of legit concern. Thus, he left his reply as vague as possible. He, on the other hand, had taken to sleeping too much. It was a complete 360 from his former life, but it was easier to sleep and not think about his circumstances or missing father. He was also terrified that his mother was being tortured. He blamed himself, but knew he was in a better position to help him now. He picked up a biscuit and chewed a tiny piece from the corner. "Thank you."
Molly gave him a gentle smile, pulling a teacup from the cupboard for herself. "You're welcome, dear. Would you like some tea?" she asked, hand hovering over another cup. If he wouldn't eat the biscuits, and it didn't seem like he would, the way he was just nibbling, maybe he would have a cuppa. She hoped so, at least. The boy in front of her was a far cry from the snobbish child she'd expected, and she very much wanted to earn his trust, if only so he would let her feed him.
Tea? No. No. Conversation always happened over tea. That much Draco realized. "No, thank you. I've my water." To illustrate, he held up his glass before taking a sip. Nervously, his free hand found the table cloth that was dangling right above his knee. He pulled at a loose thread, wondering what he should say next. "I…it was kind of George to bring the free journal."
Another plan ruined. Molly left the second teacup in the cupboard, easing into the chair across from Draco as she waited for the water to boil. Starting a conversation was a good sign, at least, and Molly nodded, helping herself to one of the chocolate biscuits. "He's a good boy. And he's finally starting to let himself be happy again." Oh, this was heading into a direction Molly didn't want to go, not tonight. Perhaps it would be safer to try and talk about Draco. The poor dear probably didn't have many people to turn to in this house yet. "...Were you able to contact your mother and let her know you're well?" Molly asked softly, hoping she wasn't over-stepping her boundaries.
Draco nodded. "She hasn't responded though." His eyes lowered; he didn't wish to allow her to see the emotion hidden there. "Father is missing as well." It was stupid, really. Why would Molly Weasley give a damn about that?
At that moment, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy weren't the patriarchs of the family that the Weasleys had been feuding with for years. They were Draco's parents, and Molly wished more than anything that she could find them for him. "I'm so sorry, dear," she murmured.
Surprised, Draco allowed his gaze to meet Molly's. "Really?" He blushed the moment the question was posed. He felt like a stupid little boy. "Sorry," He mumbled.
"Of course I am, dear," Molly assured him, electing to flick her wand at the kettle and pour her tea by magic when it started whistling, rather than leave Draco at the table. "They're your parents, first and foremost." Oh, how she wanted to reach across the table and pat his hand, but she couldn't risk frightening him away.
"Parents who didn't treat you very well." Draco wasn't sure why he felt the need to remind Molly of that, but the words came out regardless. He licked his lips in another anxious move. "I'm keeping you. The wedding…"
"But still your parents." She shook her head gently when Draco brought up the wedding, carefully summoning her teacup from the counter. "You aren't keeping me, Draco. The ceremony was finished earlier, and everyone is celebrating. It was getting a little too loud for my taste, if you want the truth. I would much rather have a simple conversation with you."
"With me?" Draco's tone was incredulous. "I've nothing interesting to say, Mrs. Weasley." She should have smacked him or yelled or…anything. His own bloody cousin had attacked him, hadn't she? And Remus had even admitted Sirius would have wanted nothing to do with him. The only people who cared about what Draco Malfoy had to say were his parents and they were…Salazar knew where.
"I've enjoyed our conversation so far," Molly told him gently, taking a sip of her tea. "And please, dear, call me Molly."
"Thank you." Draco wasn't quite sure if that was the correct thing to say, but he couldn't think of anything more fitting either. Draco felt his eyes water and cursed himself. He blinked quickly, trying to pretend something had simply gotten in his eyes. She was being too kind, too warm, too motherly. Draco wanted his own mum, not some substitute who felt sorry for him.
Molly very carefully ignored the moisture in Draco's eyes, sure he wouldn't want her calling attention to it. "You're welcome, dear," she said quietly. "...If you ever need anything, Draco, I want you to just ask."
"Why?" It was the same question he had asked of Remus, but at least the man had once been his professor. Molly had no reason to be friendly to the boy.
"Because that's what I'm here for," she told him, sending him a gentle smile. "The people living in this house are my family, and I do what I can to take care of them. ...I know that you have no reason to trust me, Draco, but I want you to know that you can. You're a part of this family now, as messy and thrown together as we are."