Funny, it was the first time she heard those bells. Ever since she’d lived here, the house had always been filled with children’s cries, laughter and chatter on a night like this one, and she had her head buried deep in a casserole or in the oven to notice much else.
Right now, she was in an armchair by the fire, not cooking, baking, scolding, marshalling… only gazing at the embers tenaciously glowing several inches away from the logs. Like memories. They would forever burn in heart and mind. Both comforting and cruel.
Occupied with trying to dispel these thoughts with cheerier ones, she didn’t notice the faint crack of Apparition in the kitchen stoop, the kitchen door opening, and the footsteps that came from there to the hall and to the sitting room.
“Mum! I thought everyone was already in bed.”
“Oh, Percy, you gave me a start,” Molly took a deep breath and then smiled and stoked the fire. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, um ””
“And what have you got there?”
“Well, uh ””
“Is this really happening?”
“What?”
“You, speechless and stuttering. Not hiding anything, are you?”
“Mum!”
“Get your sorry freezing self over here by the fire. I’ll get you some chocolate.”
She bustled off, leaving Percy sidestepping her like a crab, hiding whatever it was he had behind him.
The Burrow was quiet. It was Christmas Eve, but it was also the first Christmas without Fred, without Lupin, without Tonks, without Mad-eye. George was holed up in what used to be ‘their’ room, now only ‘his’ room. In fact, there were few families not holed up as well. They’d had a victory, but with it had come losses. And those losses glimmered like sleet and were as sharp as icicles that first Yule.
For this young man standing before his family’s sitting room fireplace, the loss of his brother was magnified by the fact that he hadn’t been with them for as long as he should have done. And there was his mother, without reproach, without rebuke, fetching him hot chocolate! And only last Christmas he had ”
“Dear, are you alright?” Her voice already broke at the last word. “Please don’t ” when I begin, I can’t stop ””
Percy left the glow of the fire and hurried to catch his mother in his arms. “I’m sorry, Mum, I was just ” you know ” oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, Mum! It’s even more horrible to me because you’re all so nice to me when I deserve ””
“Hush now, don’t be silly!” she sounded shrill and nasal. In her resolve not to cry, she had downed half of the chocolate meant for her son. Fortified with it, she took a deep breath and squeezed her son.
“Percy, you’ve always been my darling boy, you know. Nothing has changed that.”
At that, Percy dissolved. The granite crumbled into sand. Love was like that. So powerful, like the ocean that powdered rocks.
“I made you cry, Mum! I turned a blind eye when Dad was nearly killed! I returned the jumpers! The pies! I even foisted Scrimgeour on you! And what do I get for it? Fred was killed! While we were dueling the Minister!”
Mother and son sank onto the couch sobbing gently in each other’s arms, awash in the warmth of the fire, of love and contrition, of affection and forgiveness.
“Don’t go blaming yourself, dear. I must admit I was hurt, your father was hurt, we all were, but really, we can’t all keep our heads in those times. I’m just glad you’re back with us, now.”
“I’m so sorry. I was so stupid!”
“Yes, you were, rather.”
“Thank you, Mum. Please, scold me!”
Molly laughed shakily. “One day, I might.”
“Oh, Mum!”
“Here now, you two, drink up.”
Molly and Percy looked up to find Arthur holding out two fresh tumblers of hot cocoa. At the sight of his father, however, Percy only sobbed harder, his shoulders quaking, his face grimacing. He transferred into his father’s embrace like a five-year-old. Heck, he could remember a scene exactly like this when he was a five-year-old, when he had skinned his leg on a rock in the pond. Fred and George had dared him to long jump in there, and he had done so, but had landed badly.
Any second now, one of the twins would come over and offer him an Acid Pop… Except ” except that Fred was gone, and George seemed quite out of jokes for the meanwhile...
“Chestnuts? And what’s this, have you got marshmallows in here, too, Perce?”
Percy jumped from his rather pathetic position bawling in their Dad’s shoulder and looked at George. He was in his pyjamas, rooting through the basket Percy had stowed in the end table.
“Don’t eat those.” Percy sniffed and drank from his tumbler, beaming a shy smile at their parents. “They’re stale.”
“So why’d you bring them?”
“Er, don’t you recognise them? You and Fred sent them to me.”
There was a moment’s silence, in which they heard the fire’s soft crackle, and the bells ringing again in the village.
“George! You and Fred sent Percy things for Christmas? You should have told me!”
“Geroff, Mum!” (Molly had pinched George’s cheek.) “You didn’t return them, we thought you binned them!”
“No ” I ” well, it was rotten of me, really. I just couldn’t not have something Weasley for Christmas, and I kept yours because they weren’t too labelled, if you know what I mean.”
Percy gave an apologetic wince at Molly. George grinned, bemused.
“I also took pictures of my Weasley jumpers. They’re there somewhere.” And he gave another wince as George upended the basket on the carpet.
Rolled up Christmas stockings rolled their way across the floor along with the chestnuts.
“Hey! We haven’t seen these since we were ten!” George grabbed an emerald one and unfurled it. His name was there in gold.
“Yeah, Mum made them for each of us, and there were dozens of Chocolate Galleons inside, remember?” Percy said eagerly, his face alight. “And we all played Diagon Alley, and I was shopkeeper, while you and Fred and Ron and Ginny bought and sold the Christmas tree’s decorations to me.”
“Well, I’ll be damned; I’ve forgotten you used to be a little fun, too, Perce! You even haggled! I told you, being a prefect rather soiled you. You were okay before. Never mind, you’re okay again now.”
“And there’s Fabian and Gideon’s last Christmas card to you, too, Molly. Percy’s been keeping it all this time,” said Arthur, plucking a card trimmed with blue lace from the carpet. And then he frowned and gaped.
“Oh, Percy!” Molly gasped, taking the card from her husband with shaking hands and eyes sparkling anew with tears again.
“Well, Mum, I thought I’d surprise you. I took this from your bureau when you moved to ” to Grimmauld Place. I knew you loved it, and I only just discovered the Time Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. I plunged the card there for a second, and I took it back when the burns disappeared ””
George interrupted Molly’s renewed sobs.
“ ‘Dear Father, forgive me for all those things I’ve said. I never meant any of them, and I’m quite ashamed of them. I hope you and Mother can forgive me. I know I’ve cost her heartache. But the Ministry is keeping an eye on me. I had to return the jumper. And I had no choice either but to pretend I was only curious why you were there at the Ministry at that ungodly hour...’ Perce, you kept a lot from us.”
Arthur grabbed the card George was reading. It was merely a folded up piece of parchment. On the front was pasted the photograph of Percy’s silver and russet jumper that year.
Percy was flushing behind his tumbler. “I just never got around to sending it. Anyway, I was too ashamed, too, you know ” it’s only a lousy card, how could I dare ” and I was still doggedly clinging to the Ministry ””
“Son, if you’d just sent this ””
“I know, Dad ”” Percy squeaked.
“That you’re a sap?”
“George!”
“Just kidding, Mum! But he was a sap. Honestly, Perce.”
Percy was now as red as the chestnuts, which George was now throwing one by one into the fire. They hissed for a moment and then, with small cracks, burst into blooms of miniature fireworks. It added sparkle and glitter and colour into the fire, and their faces were suffused with it, the whole room was. It was like a sign, of love being renewed, of life being refreshed.
“I knew you had put something in those nuts.”
“Yeah, we were thinking you might want to share with the Minister, and then when you roast it in the fire... boom, boom, boom! I have you to thank though, I think they look better stale.”
that could bridge the chasm of time,
fan dying embers,
burst into flame,
and bring a heart to touch another heart.*
Author’s Note: *Dr. Erlinda Enriquez in her short story whose title I will recall presently... ^_^ Thanks to Julie and Jan for the lovely prompt! Thank you for reading, please tell me what you think. And Happy Yule!