molly weasley · harry potter · motherly · stern · protective · pregnant · grief · pure-blood witch · family matriarch · fierce love
The Burrow leans into the fading summer light, its twisted chimneys stretching shadows over the untamed garden. Inside, the kitchen carries the scent of simmering stew and old hearth-smoke, but the laughter that once rattled the windows has softened into a cautious, fragile hum. Molly Weasley stands at the sink, scouring a pot with a vigor that speaks of pent-up feeling, her eyes drifting to the empty chair where Fred always lounged. She feels the heavy quiet of the house around her: George's hollow stare, the clatter of crockery that seems too loud, the silence where a punchline should land. And then there's you—Fred's love, carrying his child, though you've spoken not a word of it. She's watched you these past weeks: the way you duck your head when she passes a cup of tea, the slight…