Thank You

stu14688

Rating: G
Genres: Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 31/12/2005
Last Updated: 31/12/2005
Status: completed

On Christmas Eve, the trio shows up at the Burrow after months with no communication with anyone. It’s mid-hunt for the horocruxes, and Harry has something he wants to say to Mrs. Weasley. One-shot. I might add an epilogue. I have one semi-formed in my head. This is mainly a conversation between Molly and Harry, but if you look real close and use your imagination real hard, you can find some evidence for a Harry/Hermione romance. You have to be thinking somewhere along the lines of simply being a help and support to one another rather than lovers. Please R&R! Happy New Year, everyone!

Chapters

1. Thank You

1. Thank You

Thank You

By: stu14688

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter anything. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue.

Summary: On Christmas Eve, the trio shows up at the Burrow after months with no communication with anyone. It's mid-hunt for the horocruxes, and Harry has something he wants to say to Mrs. Weasley. One-shot. I might add an epilogue. I have one semi-formed in my head. This is mainly a conversation between Molly and Harry, but if you look real close and use your imagination real hard, you can find some evidence for a Harry/Hermione romance. You have to be thinking somewhere along the lines of simply being a help and support to one another rather than lovers. Please R&R! Happy New Year, everyone!

It was Christmas Eve. Molly was in the kitchen frantically getting trying to get as much prepared for the Christmas dinner as possible. She did not want to be left with the entire huge task in the morning. A large chunk of the inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix was going to be there, and her family. For a moment she was thinking of a very large company of people, but then realized that with the exception of three of her children, her entire family was in the inner circle of the Order. What was even more, two of those three children were not expected to make it to the dinner. Percy was still estranging himself from the family, and Ron had not been heard from since Halloween, which was when the Order had received the latest letter from Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

As these thoughts ran amuck through her mind, Molly's activity stopped. In fact, she was gazing out of the window above the sink, looking towards the path that led to the front door. It was just an old dirt path that she watched many-a-times as Ron and his friends walked towards it after having gone off to discuss something out of ear-shot of everyone else. It had happened more frequently this last summer than any of the subsequent ones. No one knew what they talked about or what they were planning, but the three 17-year olds were, no doubt, planning and talking about something.

Molly had often spotted all three of them, over the summer, flipping through random books, reading old newspaper clippings, and doing various other odd things. After Harry had turned seventeen, the boys had insisted on taking their apparition tests, which they both passed with flying colors. Immediately afterwards, the three were constantly working on spells and even tried out a few potions! Molly had not understood one single bit of their obsessive studying, but did not complain. At least they stand a good chance of acing their N.E.W.T.s, she had thought.

The trio had also helped her anytime she needed it, whether she asked or not. She had found Harry scrubbing on some caked over dish pans one evening. When she had asked him why he did not just use magic or let her do it, he had looked at her thoughtfully, and then, quietly answered, “I just need something to keep my hands busy. You take the night off; I'll clean the kitchen.” Molly knew that he had a lot on his mind, so she left him to the job, and was surprised the next morning to find her kitchen in pristine order. She did not know if that was a result of residual effects of living with the Dursleys or if Harry had had more on his mind than she thought. Eventually, she had concluded that it was probably both.

Wild clucking from the fat hens in the yard caused Molly to look up, and what she saw, stunned her. Not even breathing and hardly daring to believe it, Molly counted the forms wandering slowly towards the gate. One…two…three… “Bless my soul, they've come,” she whispered to the window. As if her words had lit a fire beneath her feet, Molly straightened her slumped shoulders and dashed around the table to the sitting room. Looking over at her daughter who was working on homework, she said, “Ginny! They've come! They're outside, Ginny; they've come home for Christmas!” Ginny scrunched her forehead up in confusion for moment before comprehension dawned on her face. She, too, immediately sprung from her spot in the chair and bounded towards the door where her mother stood impatiently waiting. It seemed to take hours for the trio to finally step onto the porch. At the sound of the footfall, Molly reached for the doorknob, but was held back by Ginny.

Turning to her daughter, Molly asked, “Ginny, what are you doing? The door's locked; I've got to let them in.”

“What if they're not Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mum? What if they're polyjuiced Death Eaters? You've got to make them prove it.”

Molly looked disbelievingly at her daughter, and was about to reach for the knob again when she heard a knock on the door and a voice on the other side call out, “Mum? Mum, will you let us in, please? It's Ron, Harry, and Hermione.”

Molly grasped the doorknob only to have Ginny yank her hand off of it. “Mum, do not open that door! Those three did not send a note or anything to announce their coming! Use some sense. I want to see them too, but those people outside could be Death Eaters!”

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by the sound of an irritated voice from the other side of the door. It was Harry.

“Ginny, honestly, you use some sense. 1) She's your mother; you shouldn't talk to her like that. And 2) if we were Death Eaters, we would have done blasted down the door to get inside! It's cold as the North Pole out here! Do you really think that Death Eaters are going to stand in uncomfortable weather if they can get into the warmth of a house? Hermione already has a bad cold. Now, let us in…please!” He had tacked on the final “please” after a beat of silence. Molly knew that he must have received a reprimanding look from Hermione, which made him say the word. She almost laughed at the mental picture.

Grasping the doorknob for the second time, Molly gave a hard look to Ginny, who huffed and rolled her eyes as she pulled out her wand. Molly just shook her head as she unlocked and opened the door. Standing before her were the three young adults, but they did not look young at all. They were all thinner than they had been when she had last seen them, and it looked like it had been a couple of days since their last bath. Ron had a cut across his left cheek, and by the looks of it, it would be healed completely in a day or two. He was also a bit pale, but all-in-all, he looked healthy. Harry was also pale and thin. He was cradling his left arm and had dark circles under his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep. Surprisingly, Hermione looked the worst of all of them. Her once bushy hair, hung rather limp and dull. She was terribly pale and visibly shivering. Also, her nose was red from being wiped raw. With the exception of a few small cuts on her hands, there were no visible injuries, but that did not mean they did not exist somewhere under all the clothing.

Molly reached out and pulled them into a huge hug, which also effectively brought the three into the house. They were so thin, even through their clothes Molly could tell that they were in need of a few good meals. She did not want to let them go, but when Hermione immediately pulled away, turned, and sneezed - all in one motion - the group hug was broken up.

Looking around for a tissue or something for Hermione, Molly said, “Bless you, dear. You three, though a wonderful sight to see, look terrible. You each need a warm bath, a warm meal, and a warm bed. Now, hurry on up, and Hermione you take your bath first. We've got to get rid of that dreadful cold. I'll find some pepper-up potion for you while you're at it…”

Letting her words drift off, she finally found the tissue she was looking for, and turned to hand it to Hermione. However, the young woman already had one. Hermione glanced at the tissue and gave a small smile, “Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, but I've got some. Harry picked a package up for me at a convenience store yesterday. Thank you, also, for letting us stay.” Turning to Ginny, “Hello, Ginny. I am Hermione. You can test me, if you'd like.” Her bright tone sounded odd - tired and old - to Molly.

Ginny gazed at the three for a moment in silence before she finally said, “Can I see your patroni?” The trio nodded, and as one, raised their wands and spoke the incantation: “Expecto Patronum!” The room was doused in a bright light, which quickly formed into a huge, single image - a lion. The lion, if it had been real, would have definitely been the king of the pride. It was three times the size of a normal patronus with a large furry mane, a long whipping tale, and a huge muscular body. The lion was protectively pacing in front of Harry, Hermione, and Ron as if daring anything or anybody to even try to hurt one of them. Incredibly, the lion seemed to have the seriousness of Harry, the brains of Hermione, and the jovialness of Ron, and it was somehow portraying all three aspects at one time.

As the trio lowered their wands, which caused the lion to fade into nothingness, Ginny looked awestruck at her friends and brother. Missing Ginny's look, Harry spoke to Ron and Hermione. “I bet she meant she wanted to see our individual patroni, not the lion. I'll go first.” He once again raised his wand, but Ginny interrupted him.

“No...no, it's fine! I…I believe you…but how did you do that? I didn't even know that was possible!”

Molly was nodding fervently in agreement with Ginny. Shrugging off his cloak, Ron sighed. “Yeah, well,” he began nonchalantly, while he was helping Hermione out of her cloak and coat, “it's amazing what three people can accomplish when facing 500 dementors. You'd just better hope that it doesn't happen to you.”

Molly gasped, “500 dementors! What were you doing near 500 dementors!? It's a wonder that you're alive!”

With a tired, calm voice, Harry answered, “We were doing exactly what we needed to be doing, and we accomplished our objective.” Molly stared incredulously at the young dark-haired man before her. He had answered without looking up from delicately pulling his left arm out of his coat sleeve. His answer had sounded like he was talking about a homework assignment. It was completely vague and totally precise. From that one sentence she gathered that the trio had deliberately went to the danger of dementors with a plan to accomplish a certain task, in which they did just that.

Molly did not know what the task was or how it was accomplished, but it involved Harry, Ron, and Hermione discovering the use of the rare magic of a community patronus. In fact, they may have learned that all magic could be done as a community if certain conditions were met. Community magic was much more powerful and the results were much larger, but it rarely occurred because all the people involved had to be in one accord. They had to have an unusually close bond, which enabled them to work as a seamless unit in everything. Incantations had to be said at the same time, and any mental prerequisites needed for the magic (such as the patronus charm) had to be very close to the same as well. Normally, when community magic occurred, it was between married couples - couples that had been together for several decades. The fact that three random people, who had simply been best friends for seven years, managed to produce community magic, made the occurrence of that magic even more astounding. What was more was that they had done it in a comfortable setting. They were not under the effects of stress, pressure, and anxiety; they had simply done it on command. That was unheard of for community magic.

“Mum. Mum? Mum!”

Molly shook her head and faced Ron, who was looking at her with a worried expression. “Are you okay, Mum? You keep drifting off.”

Molly smiled. “I'm fine, Ron - just excited to see you, Harry, and Hermione alive and safe. Was there something you needed to tell me?”

Ron's worry melted off into a genuine, albeit exhausted, smile. “I was just saying that we were going to head on up to my room. It's been a long trip, and, quite frankly, I'm more tired than hungry. Just wake us when supper's ready, will you?”

Molly nodded and started firing off questions: What about the baths? (“We'll wake each other and take turns,” said Harry.); Are you sure you'd rather not eat now? (“We ate earlier today. We're fine,” answered Ron.); The rooms aren't ready - wouldn't you rather wait a bit? (“Compared to what we've been sleeping on, a pallet on the floor will seem like a feather bed, Mrs. Weasley,” intoned Hermione.). Therefore, having run out of questions, Molly finally accompanied the trio up the stairs silently. She then rushed around trying to find clothes for them to change into, blankets, cots, and pillows to sleep with, and towels and rags for them to bathe with.

Ten minutes later, all three had fresh clothes, blankets, and towels. Hermione had homesteaded in Ginny's room before going to take her bath and Ron and Harry in Ron's bedroom had fallen asleep nearly before their heads had reached the pillows.

Molly walked quietly back down stairs to find Ginny hovering over a steaming cauldron. “What are you brewing, dear?”

Ginny, without looking up, answered, “A pepper-up potion. I already looked in your stores, and there isn't any. Did you happen to ask Harry what's wrong with his arm?”

Ginny was looking at her mother now, who was standing over the potion inspecting it. “No, I didn't think to, but there is definitely something wrong with it. I didn't even get a good look at it.”

Ginny didn't say anything for awhile, and when she did, it had nothing to do with Harry's arm. “Listen, Mum, I'll finish the potion. You go ahead and work on getting things ready for Christmas. With Ron back, you'll have to have twice as much food, and we're going to have to redo the sleeping arrangements.” Ginny sounded exasperated, but Molly knew she really wasn't. She knew that Ginny was just as happy for the turn up of the trio as anyone else would be - just as she herself was.

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Night had fallen and the house was full: Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Fred, George, Arthur, Molly, Ginny, Remus, Tonks, Ron, Harry, and Hermione were all staying. The night had already had excitement. Molly had sent Ginny upstairs to wake the trio, only to find that Hermione was missing. Without even thinking to check the boys' room, Ginny had fled down the stairs frantically yelling that Hermione was not there. The news managed to thoroughly upset everyone, partly because no one, other than Molly and Ginny, had known about the trio being there and partly because suddenly Hermione was not where she should be. The scared excitement and chaos that had been caused by the news naturally awoke the light sleepers at the top floor of the Burrow, who had all come down brandishing their wands ready to take on whoever was attacking. In the semi-darkness and flickering light of candles, Harry, Ron, and Hermione skillfully took out - either by stunning, binding, or freezing - the most magically prominent people in the house: Remus, Tonks, and the younger Weasleys. Arthur had been fighting valiantly against the “intruders” when he stunned his own son and realized what had happened. By calling out to Harry and Hermione and having a careful conversation, he managed to convince the other two of what was going on. Within minutes, everyone had been released or awoken by the only four still able to do anything. There had then been apologies, forgiveness, welcomes, hugs, and laughter all around. Everyone was thrilled to see the trio alive.

It had taken several minutes for everyone to calm down, but they eventually had. Harry, Ron, and Hermione still looked totally worn out and much older than their years, but there was a light in their eyes that Molly knew came only from being among the warmth of family and friends.

Everyone was now sitting in the living room enjoying one another's company. They were drinking hot chocolate and talking of happy things: quidditch and memories, when Tonks stood up. “I'm going after more hot chocolate - anyone else want some more?” Everyone shook their heads “No” and she bounded off to the kitchen. After a moment or two, she returned, and as she turned to sit back on the couch between Harry and Remus, she tripped and fell - mostly onto Harry and his left arm, causing him to gasp at the sudden shooting pain in his arm.

Laughing and trying to regain some sense of balance - she had not heard Harry's gasp -, Tonks gripped Harry's arm hard, only for him to let out a yelp of pain. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Tonks, you know I trust and like you as much as anyone else in this room, but I swear to Merlin if you don't get off my arm, I will hex you into next week, assuring that you will get off.” Horrified that she had somehow hurt and/or upset Harry, Tonks quickly scrambled off him, wherein he immediately let out a shuddering breath, and cradling his throbbing arm closely to him, he quietly said, “Thank you.”

The room had gone rather silent at Harry's yelp of pain and was now watching him. Harry's eyes were closed and he was still breathing rather shakily and gripping his pant leg with his right hand, his left still in obvious pain. Hermione was the first to speak. “Do you need your potion, Harry?”

Slowly opening his eyes, he shook his head. “No, it'll be better in a bit. No need to worry. It was more of just the shock, I think.” He paused, then laughed, “It's nothing like that time that Ron dropped a board on this arm - now, that was painful!”

Ron laughed, then, too. “Oh, I will never forget that! I've never been knocked against a wall that hard in my life! Consider yourself lucky, Tonks, he has some power behind that magic of his when he's in sudden pain! I had a bruise for two weeks after that.”

By that time, most of everyone in the room was laughing at the mental picture of Harry magically throwing Ron into a wall. Hermione looked at Ron reproachfully, though still smiling, and said, “Ron, don't hold that against him. You know that it was just a reflex action, and that he'd never attack you. You would have done the same thing, had you been in his shoes.”

Serious again, Harry softly said, “It's alright, Hermione. He knows. Please don't start an argument for the sake of a joke.”

Once again, the room was nearly silent - everyone dying to ask the question, yet none daring to do so. Finally, Ginny glanced over at Harry, who was adamantly staring at his sock-clad foot and gently, unconsciously, massaging his left arm with his right hand, and softly asked, “What's wrong with your arm, Harry, and how did it happen?”

After a moment's silence, Harry said, “A curse.” Two words and that was all he said. Molly could not take it anymore. The mother in her had to know what her son and his two best friends had been doing for nearly six months.

“Harry James Potter, that's not an answer, and you know it! Who cursed you; what curse did they use; and have you done anything for that arm?!”

Harry looked up, now. Looking at the woman across from him, who had always been the example of a mother to him; he looked directly into her eyes and held her attention. Without batting an eye, he answered, “It was not a `who,' but rather a `what' that cursed us. Of course, indirectly it was a `who,' but that doesn't matter. The cursed object is cursed no more - in fact, it doesn't even exist anymore. I do know what curse was used, and I probably know more about it than most. Though, I only have that knowledge because Hermione is such a skilled researcher. Finally, yes, I am doing something to care for my arm. Hermione has been helping me brew a potion - the one she just mentioned a bit ago - to counter its effects, and that is the most that can be done.”

Everyone knew that he had said all he was going to say on the subject. Any attempt to get more information would be futile, but that knowledge did not stop curiosity levels from rising. His desire to know finally getting the better of him, Remus asked, “Can't you tell us anything about what you are doing - any kind of a hint?”

Ron sighed and looked at his former professor, “Remus, you know we can't say anything. We had this conversation back in the summer. Nothing's changed since then.”

“Well…have you even been slightly successful at what you're doing?” Remus knew he sounded desperate, but he really could not care less. He had to know something about what these three were doing.

Without looking at anyone, and sounding very lost in his thoughts, Harry answered, “We're halfway done. When we're done with that half, then the real fun begins.”

No one could think of a response to that, and although they had plenty of questions, they knew that the trio would only give vague, half answers. The rest of the evening went quickly with the Weasleys and the Order talking of mundane things and Harry, Ron, and Hermione quietly listening. Soon everyone went to bed hoping that tomorrow would truly be a Happy Christmas.

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Molly did not know what it was that had woken her, but something definitely had. She lay there for a moment quietly listening for anything that sounded out of the ordinary, but when she heard nothing, she tried going back to sleep. She could not, however, due to her overactive mind and imagination. Sighing quietly, Molly climbed out of bed doing her best not to wake Arthur. Once she managed to get out of bed and out of the door, she tiptoed downstairs.

The house was deathly quiet, and the unexpected creak of the next to last step seemed to echo throughout the house. Molly stopped and waited, listening intently for anyone who might have heard the creak. Cautiously glancing up the stairs, she slowly let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding.

When Molly turned, it was only to find a wand pointing at her. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out - the person holding the wand had put a silencing charm on her. Immediately, the wand was lowered and Harry stepped out from a shadowy space near the wall.

“Shhh. It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. It's just me, Harry. You were going to scream, that's why I silenced you. I didn't want the others to wake up.”

Harry was slowly guiding Molly to a couch near the fire. He handed her a cup of hot chocolate, and then pulled his wand back out, trained it on her, and ended the silencing charm. She did not say anything, and Harry sat down beside her, gazing into the fire, once again, unconsciously massaging his left arm. They sat in silence for several minutes before, suddenly, “I suppose you're wondering why I'm down here boring holes into your fireplace rather than upstairs sawing logs.”

Molly jumped at the sound of Harry's voice. She had thought that he had forgotten about her, and his sudden interruption of the silence startled her. He saw her jump and chuckled a bit. Molly smiled at his amusement.

It was silent again for a few moments before Molly decided to answer him.

“Yes, I was, but I suppose I shouldn't be. Were you having trouble sleeping or keeping watch?”

Harry looked at her and smiled. “You know me too well, Mrs. Weasley. I was doing both, actually. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to make myself useful and keep watch over the fire. It's cold tonight.”

Harry gave Molly that silly, lopsided grin that Ginny had spoken so much about. Molly suddenly felt a wave of sadness come over her. With him sitting there, joking and smiling, she saw the boy Harry could have been - the boy he should have been. She felt tears spring to her eyes, and as soon as they did, the youthful smile on Harry's face fell and was replaced with a look that Molly knew well: worry and anxiety. At this, she couldn't keep some of the tears at bay and a couple leaked out. She knew she should not be crying, especially in front of Harry; he already had enough burdens of his own.

Harry turned to face the woman who had been a mother to him. He did not know what he had said that had upset her, but he knew he had to figure out what it was and apologize. Crying women were not exactly his specialty. He honestly never knew what to do for them.

“Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry. I - I didn't mean to make you cry…” Harry mumbled “sorry” a couple more times and awkwardly rubbed her back trying to comfort her. Molly wiped her tears away, folded her hands in her lap, took a deep breath, and sat up straight in an attempt to master her emotions.

“It's okay, Harry, just the results of pent up worry, frustration, and fear. You didn't do anything to upset me.”

Harry sat back a bit and studied Molly. She felt like he was looking straight through her. He was more of an adult than most would like to admit. She was strongly reminded of Dumbledore. Finally, he looked down and spoke almost in a whisper. “Worry. Frustration. Fear. Maybe I didn't do anything directly to upset you, Mrs. Weasley, but in the end, I'm partial cause of all of it. I've got Ron off with me for months at a time with no word about where we are, how we are, or what we're doing. I gave Fred and George the money they needed to start their joke shop. Ginny's had a crush on me since before I've known her. Percy's decision to estrange himself from you and the others is partly because of your connection to me. Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny have all nearly died partly because of your family's connection to me. Mrs. Weasley, I may not have been the one to cause the trouble directly, but you can't deny that without me, much of what has happened to your family would not have happened.”

Harry was looking Molly directly in the eye by the end of his speech. He was speaking honest truths that they both knew could not be denied. She wanted to say he was wrong, that he hadn't been the cause of anything, even partially. She wanted to mother him, help him sleep, calm his fears, and chase away his nightmares. She knew the time was passed for that, though. There was no going back to him being a child who was lost at King's Cross Station. Now, he was a main figure in a war that was obviously mostly about the hatred that You-Know-Who had against him. Harry could not escape that and could not delude himself with thinking that he did not endanger everyone around him. At the same time, Molly could not try to make him think and believe a lie. She had to accept the truth he was saying because if she did not, then she would be trying to force him back into the role of a child, a role that he could not and would not play anymore. It was a role that was never his to begin with, but he had tried it out because some part of him had wanted to be a child and because it was also what others wanted, and it was the only role they had allowed him.

Casting her own eyes to the grate, Molly sighed. “You're right, Harry, it can't be denied, but that doesn't mean you should feel any guilt about what has happened. You were just a young man in search of friends, love, comfort, and a bit of normalcy. As much as we all tried to give it to you, none of us could stop the inevitable. You're famous and have been since you were one year old. That's not something any of us can change; we couldn't keep you from the life that that fame brought with it. Even if You-Know-Who had died all those years ago, you would still have attracted an awful lot of animosity and curiosity. Don't blame yourself over the things life has thrown at you, Harry; you've handled it better than most. I have to say, I'm quite proud of you and to know you. I'm happy that I've had the chance to love you as one of my own. I'm even happy that you're friends with my children, that you've helped each other grow and survive.

“Harry, there's so much that I wish you could have known and had in your lifetime, but I must tell you, there is a small, selfish part of me that wouldn't change any of these past few years for anything. It's been a wonderful, albeit difficult, experience, Harry, and I hope that when this war is over, you won't hide away. I hope that many more memories can be made, lots of good ones to replace the bad ones.”

Molly looked at Harry, trying to extract a promise from him, silent or otherwise, that he would be around at the end of the war. He returned her gaze and she knew that he would not promise that because there was a grand possibility that he would not be able to keep it. He had seen enough in his life to know that a promise like that one was a foolish one to make, and he was not willing to be a fool in this matter. After simply looking at one another, Harry turned back to the fire; it was dying. True to his word, Harry levitated a log from the hearth and placed it in the grate. Using his good arm, he stirred the coals with the poker and soon enough, a warm fire was blazing, lighting up the room.

Harry sat back down on the couch, was silent for a few moments, and then he said, “I wanted to tell you something, Mrs. Weasley.” He sounded cheerful, and the tension in the air seemed to dissipate. Molly nodded to tell him to go on.

“I wanted to tell you thank you. Thank you for several things, tonight being one of them. Thanks for treating me like an adult just now. You accepted what I said because you knew it was true, as harsh as it was. Thanks.

“Thank you for being there. You've sent me food and clothing and have provided shelter for me. That covers my basic needs, something you didn't have to do, but you did anyway. Thank you. Thank you for also showing me what a real mother does for her children, and thank you for saying that I'm as good as your son. Thank you for always doing what you thought was best for me, even if neither I nor anyone else liked it. You've fought for me, and that's something you didn't have to do. Thank you for also standing up for me. Your entire family has endured persecution and been treated with suspicion because of me, but still, there you were no matter what.

“Thank you for allowing your children to befriend me. You knew there was risk in doing that, but you did it anyway. You even sent me a Weasley sweater my first Christmas at Hogwarts, which was like a stamp of approval to me.

“Thank you for mentioning me in that howler you sent to Ron in our second year. You made me feel punished, reprimanded for my wrong-doing. It showed me you truly trusted me and were hurt by my stupidity. Thank you.

“Thank you for all you've done, Mrs. Weasley, from standing up to Sirius to hugging me in the hospital wing after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. You have no idea what that means to me. From the first time you ever laid eyes on me, you've been helping me, molding me into a decent person and wizard. Much of what you've done you probably don't even realize, but thank you for it anyway. I wish there were a better way to repay you, but this is the best I can do right now.”

Molly sat there with tears streaming down her face as Harry talked, thanking her for everything he could think of. When he finished, she pulled him into a fierce hug, crying and whispering “You're welcome; you're so very welcome” over and over.

For a second after she first started to hug him, Harry stiffened (as always), but then he hugged her back with just as much force as she was him, which was something he had never done before. This only made Molly cry more. She knew without a doubt what his speech was about, why he had said it, but she also knew he meant every word. It was a speech she would never forget.

The two sat there on the couch for some time simply hugging one another - Molly crying and Harry awkwardly, clumsily, but caringly trying to comfort and soothe her. At length, they let go, and just sat there looking at each other. The sun was coming up on the horizon, sending a stream of light in through the windows. Finally, Harry stood and spoke quietly. “I think I'll try to catch a few winks before the rest of the house wakes up, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for listening to me.”

Molly stood also. “You're welcome, Harry dear. You go get some sleep. I'll get them to hold off as long as possible on the presents.”

“Okay. I'll see you a bit later.” With a final yawn, Harry silently made his way back up the stairs to Ron's room. Molly watched him go, and then went to the kitchen to start what was going to be a busy, but hopefully happy, day.

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