molly_coddles (molly_coddles) wrote in thetowns, @ 2010-11-15 10:45:00 |
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Current location: | The Burrow |
Current mood: | worried |
RP: Time for the Dinner Bell..
Who: The Weasleys, Prewitts, and any Order Members
When: Evening, November 15, 1978
Where: The Burrow, of course!
What: Molly's cooking up her usual dinner for family and whatever hungry/non-cooking members of the Order want to come. She swears have the Order wouldn't eat if it wasn't for her!
Warnings: PG for now. Lots of cheek pinching and mothering ahead!
The Burrow was, as ever, barely controlled chaos. Bill and Charlie were no where to be scene, but the thorough and consistent sound of little pounding feet on the second floor overhead of the living are and kitchen no doubt marked their locations. Percy was, as ever, being the only sane child around as he sat at the dinner table patiently awaiting his meal which might take a minute or an hour. He didn't care. He had a picture book before him and was happy to be near his mother without being under foot.
Molly thought she had the twins penned up in the living room, having put both of them in their play pen just a few minutes before she started dinner, but already Fred was working on crawling his way to the side and, if he was lucky, pushing that thin, old netting open. For eight month olds, the two could cause more trouble than all three of Molly's other children combined. But, for now, they were penned and out of being under foot. Soon, Molly wouldn't need a play pen for them -- she'd need a cage!
All the members of the Order of the Phoenix had the word for the wards that carefully were woven around the Burrow. They wouldn't, of course, keep the strongest of Death Eaters out, but Molly trusted them more than simple locks. So she didn't worry about not hearing the door as she hovered across a large pot of rabbit stew in the kitchen, the scents of warm meat and nutty spices hovering through the entire house and out the chimney. She'd made more than enough for three times her family with left overs. It had been a habit these days and the Order had, in turn, begun to bring by what meat, vegetables and other scraps of food they could pick up in exchange for hearty meals and a warm smile on some of the darkest nights of the year. Mlly stirred the pot once more before looking up to her clock. She didn't so much care about the time, but she cared about the single hand that bore her husband's name. All too often these days it hovered close to Mortal Peril and nothing else.
She'd like to say she was used to it. She wasn't. She nearly dropped the spoon as she forgot to breathe a few moments and then forced herself to turn away. "He'll be home soon... he'll be home soon..." She repeated under her breath.