Painted Sky

It hurts.

Just thinking sent her into fits of sobbing. But it was all she could think about. Over and over it played in her head teasing and cajoling her. She wanted to die.

Molly Weasley sat in a rocking chair Arthur had brought home when Ron was born. He said it was a muggle chair and good to lull babies to sleep. She had wished he found it sooner. Perhaps when she had her first child so she wouldn't have to wake up every morning to sore arms from manually rocking her infant children. She would sit every night in it with Ron gently in her arms. She was grateful that he was not a fussy baby. He would just smile at her or make faces so she would laugh. He would take after his twin brothers, she thought. Always a comedian. Quietly they would rock, just the two of them and the night sky painted on the sloping ceiling of the nursery. She wondered if someday it would have to be painted over, tradition forgotten because it was too old and babyish. She secretly hoped that day would never come.

She remembered when Ron first saw his new baby sister at the age of one. He had kissed her forehead as well as a toddler could and said "mine." Ginny would be the one to look up to him, and even as a baby he could recognize that. She never rocked Ginny in the rocking chair. It was too sacred between Ron and her. That was their special place. Every morning she woke up with those tired arms, but she never complained.

She felt horrible at how her children had segregated themselves so early in their lives. Bill, Charlie and Percy always stuck together, finding they were too "adult" for the other children. She remembered the first time Percy had explained that to his parents Arthur went into spasms of muffled laughter and Percy howled in anger and proceeded to stomp up to his room. She found herself often worrying about Percy being too adult for his age. He was so much younger than Bill and Charlie, yet he insisted he belonged with them. Fred and George, of course, played together since they shared a special bond. Ron found he enjoyed their company, even if they had made him eat dirt on occasion. Ginny would tag along with the three younger boys. They seemed to share her sense of adventure and comedy. She never could make them play with her dolls though. She relied on her mother for that.

At the tender age of five, Molly recalled the first time Ron injured himself badly. He had been given a broom for his birthday, a cleansweep model, and went into the backyard to try it out. At first he rode beautifully. He seemed to be quite natural at it. Molly occasionally would look out a kitchen window to check on him as she washed the dishes from the birthday feast. However, the broom suddenly began to buck like a bronco and the small boy went flying. Molly heard a tiny wail and went running. She found him in a tall clump of grass, his leg badly mangled. He wasn't crying; Ron never cried. So she did the crying for him. She scooped him up into her arms and had Arthur take him to the hospital. Later she found out it had been Fred and George that bewitched the broom for a bit of fun, never intentionally meaning to hurt their younger brother. No Howler in the world could have matched the screaming Molly did at them that day. After Ron's leg had healed, she noticed he never went near the broom again. He would occasionally take it out for a game of quidditch, but it had become so outdated by that time that it barely flew.

And then came the year Ron turned eleven. His acceptance letter to Hogwarts had come and Ron was very excited to go to school with his brothers. Molly was sad to have to let another one go. She missed them all so much during the school year, even Fred and George and their antics. Ron was so disappointed that all he had were hand-me-downs. His robes, his wand, even his pet rat, Scabbers. She knew what he was thinking, how everything he owned was rubbish, but he always kept it to himself. Not once did he ever complain in front of her. She had wanted to cry when he hopped onto the train to leave her. She didn't though. She didn't want to break down in front of him.

And then there was that boy. He had messy hair and round glasses kept together with tape. His clothes swam on him and he seemed very alone. He was so polite when he asked how to get to the train. She secretly hoped Ron would make friends with him. He seemed like someone he would like. After the boy disappeared she learned that he was none other than Harry Potter. She had been surprised at first. But then immediately felt sorry for him. She wondered how he felt not having any parents.

When Molly got home she immediately began to cry even before she could hide herself from Ginny and Arthur. She felt so ashamed, but they desperately tried to console her. She was thankful for that. She loved her family more than anything, and it was nice to know that they loved her back.

After his first year, Molly began to notice a change in Ron. He seemed more willing to take risks, but also more mature. Obviously this was because of Harry Potter and the craziness that had happened at Hogwarts with... You-Know-Who. At the time she decided it was a good change. It seemed to get him out of his shell. She had Harry Potter to thank for that.

Harry often came to stay with them after their first year. Molly was glad because she was very fond of the boy. He was like another one of her own boys, just more polite. She mothered him quite a bit and hoped the other children wouldn't feel neglected. She was just trying to give Harry affection that he had never received at home. As the years passed, she began to love Harry as one of her own. Ron seemed to notice this, but he never said whether he objected or approved. He always kept his true feelings quite. This often bothered Molly.

In their fifth year, she noticed a certain fondness between Ron and Hermione. It scared Molly a bit to think of her sons raging hormones, but she figured it was better than Fred or George at his age. Hermione and he always bickered, like an old married couple. It was rather cute when she would watch them. And then she would slightly turn her head and see poor Harry. He suddenly was the third wheel. She could tell how much it hurt him, but she knew he was happy for his friends. Harry never seemed to have much luck with love. She knew her own Ginny loved him very much, but he could never return it. She was like a sister to him. Molly secretly was glad about this. She didn't know what she would do if those two started dating.

And then in their seventh year, the war came upon them. That damned war. It ruined everyone's lives, especially Molly's. You-Know-Who had finally gained enough strength to pull off a hard offensive. So many people died every day... It was heart breaking. Arthur came home one day and told her he wanted to help with the war effort. She refused to listen. It turned into a fight and Molly began to cry. She flung herself at him and begged him not to go. He held her and softly cried with her, but his mind was made up. The next day he was gone and off fighting with Dumbledore and so many others. Bill and Charlie joined a week later. Percy would have joined, but his work was too important now that he had been promoted in the ministry. He came to visit every weekend and looked so tired and old. Molly was glad he was there though. She hated being alone. Fred and George had joined too. She couldn't even begin to imagine that. She could see them exchanging the wands of You-Know-Who's allies with rubber wands that would turn into bouquets of flowers with the flick of one's wrist. Ron and Ginny were still at school, but with Dumbledore gone, she wondered how long that would last.

That Christmas was horrible. Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry all came to stay with her, but they told her the most horrible news.

"Harry and I are joining the effort against V... V... Voldemort," Ron had said. He stuttered when he said Voldemort because he had never said it before. But it was important that he showed no fear of that demon wizard.

"You're mad!" Molly had exclaimed. "Bill and Charlie are in a hospital because of that war and Fred and George haven't been heard from in months! And now you want to run off and get killed yourself?!"

"We've faced him before, Mum. We can do it again."

"No. You've NEVER faced him. Harry has faced him, but not you."

"What? You think only Harry can play hero, Mum? You think Harry is the only one capable of taking care of himself?" She had never heard Ron get so angry before.

"I've faced so many horrible things in my seven years at Hogwarts! A killer chess set, a whomping willow, a spider as big as a damned bus! I could go one forever, Mum!"

Molly just stared at him. She didn't know what to say.

"He has a point, Mum."

Molly looked at her youngest daughter with pain in her heart, Ginny had tears streaming down her face, yet she felt it was only right for them to go. She saw Hermione was crying as well.

"Go."

Ron and Harry looked at her with grief filling their eyes.

"Mum, I..."

"No, just go. Go break my heart."

"Mrs. Weasley..." Harry seemed to choke on her name as he tried to say something. He couldn't finish though.

"Fine," Ron spoke up. "We're leaving in the morning."

Molly looked up at him in shock. He was serious. Suddenly it all sank in.

"Please don't go, boys!" She screamed as she flung her arms around them and sobbed openly. "I don't want you to die! I love you too much!"

She felt soft tears fall on her left shoulder, the side Harry was on. She noticed he was gripping on to her for dear life. Ron, however, stood limp in her grasp. He seemed beyond grief.

"Please, Mum. Harry and I have to go pack," He said softly pushing her away from him. She still held on to Harry, or more so, he held on to her. Ron pried Harry away from her and led him up to the fifth floor. Hermione and Ginny went to Ginny's room to cry. And Molly just stood there in the kitchen in shock.

She remembered how solemn Ron had been the next morning. Harry seemed genuinely upset as well, but he stayed as upbeat as he could. Molly kissed and hugged them both goodbye and watched them go. She cried for the next couple days. Especially when Hermione and Ginny had to go back to school. She was alone again.

Five months passed without a word. She did, however, get a letter from Fred and George. She was glad they hadn't gotten themselves blown up. It ended up they were very successful at their role in the war. Their sneakiness was paying off for once. Finally a letter came, but not the kind she had hoped for.

Dear Molly,

I am very sorry to inform you of this, but your son, Ron, has been badly wounded in his fight against Voldemort. His wounds cannot be fixed my magic, I am sorry to say, although we did try. A member of our medical staff will be bringing him home to you so that he may spend his last few days with you. Your husband and sons have all been informed as well.

Harry has been minorly wounded in the same battle, but will survive his wounds. However, he seems to be having some physiological trauma. Hopefully he will get better soon.

Once again, I'm very sorry.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Her heart fell before her on the floor. The worst had come... he son was dying.

He came on a stretcher the next day. Bandages were everywhere and blood was soaking through his blankets. Molly almost fainted at the sight of him... so helpless. She got him settled in his own bed with much needed help from the medical staff that had come with him. She sat by his side quietly, just looking at his calm face. He had been sleeping when he arrived and suddenly he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Mum... I'm sorry."

"Shut up, Ron. Don't start with your good byes. You have nothing to be sorry for. You did what you felt was right." Tears began to form in her eyes, but she brushed them away.

"Harry was the one that was going to go originally. I knew he didn't want to. He felt it was his duty or something. But I really wanted to go. I needed to prove myself." He snorted a bit and then coughed up some blood. "Look where pride has gotten me."

She brushed his bangs off his forehead and kissed him. "Don't talk about it anymore."

"Mum, would you peel those posters off my ceiling?"

She found it a strange request, but she did as she was told and pulled all his Chudley Cannons posters off his slanting ceiling. Beneath, the painted night sky she had almost forgotten was revealed.

"Our special place..." He whispered as he strained his neck in the direction of the old rocking chair.

"T-take c-care of H-Harry, Mum. He's g-gonna need y-you," Ron was coughing up more blood and Molly knew this was the end. She began to cry.

"I... I love you, Mum."

"I love you too Ron."

And with that his head fell back in his pillow, and he was gone.

Harry came by a few days later. He told her the war was over. A change seemed to have taken place in Harry. Perhaps that was because a piece of him was missing.

"I killed the bloody bastard. Never mess with my friends..."

Molly stretched out her arms to him and he fell into them sobbing. They stayed that way for a while... just consoling each other.

And now she sits in that old, rickety rocking chair, with painted stars above her, softly singing to a baby that is no longer in her arms.