Гексаниэль. Broken ties: Molly

Molly's. broken ties -1

Ron is changing. Slowly, gradually, but it is changing. These are not the changes that accompany the formation of a young man, which Molly saw in Bill, Charlie and Percy (and which should have come in time for the twins) - there is something else here. Wrong.
And Molly has no one to blame but herself.
So that she wouldn't stay at home that morning! But Xeno Lovegood... He's a good man, but after that incident with Pandora, he completely gave up. So again, something happened to him, and maybe he and Luna need help...
She didn't go out for very long: a second from porch to porch, and a few minutes in the house to make sure that Xeno and Luna got off with a slight fright...
And at home, the terrified twins and Ron were waiting for her with a broken head. That's how it all started.
Molly blames herself for not following along, and even more so for not immediately paying attention to the small, almost imperceptible changes. The healer warned that headaches, nausea and vomiting are possible after a concussion. So she wasn't surprised that Ron stubbornly refused to hang posters of "Guns" from the walls and wouldn't even touch his plate if he saw even a piece of onion. The first time he threw up was from chicken soup with onions, and Molly, blaming it all on the effects of the injury-in case the smell provoked another attack-almost stopped putting onions in her food.
Then she didn't mind his long walks around the neighborhood: summer in England is short, and Ron was already lying in bed for a week, he especially needs the sun. And she didn't pay attention to the interest with which he listened to Charlie's stories, and then searched for something in the reference books: It's good that children find a common language. And then, when Ron goes to Hogwarts, it will be easier for him...
I missed it, I didn't notice it... And I realized this a week before the older boys left for Hogwarts, on the eve of Percy's birthday.
She was kneading the icing for a birthday cake - the usual recipe, just a little pollen from fairy wings for beautiful mother-of-pearl shimmers - when Ron came into the kitchen for some reason. How distorted he was! For a moment, Molly thought her son was going to rip the bowl of icing out of her hands and slam it on the floor - he looked at that unfortunate bowl with such disgust, almost hatred.
He came to his senses, however, after a moment. He complained of a headache, apologized, and quickly left. But Molly remembered.
And then, already watching her youngest son, more and more often she did not meet his gaze.
Ron's eyes are bright, like a spring sky, and his gaze is open and clear. And when he looks like that-not just attentively, but tenaciously, unkindly, animal-like, wary, as if deciding whether to attack or run away-it seems to Molly that his eyes are different, not his own. The eyes of an adult man, embedded in a child's face. "Who are you? Where is my son?" is on the tip of my tongue. But something stops me...
Molly had read about such cases. About the restless souls who went over the Edge ahead of time and desperately yearning for their lives, unwilling to leave. Their passion cannot be satisfied by the sad existence of a ghost, they crave more: to walk on the ground, breathe the air, taste food - in short, to really live.
Some of them also dream of making amends for the guilt that they have not even redeemed with death, some need wealth, some crave power, some return to love and be loved. But everyone is united by the thirst for life and the inability to return.
No one returns from beyond the Edge exactly the same as before. This is the law. It is impossible to enter the same river twice, it is impossible to connect the soul with the body exactly as it was. If a soul is called into a dead body against its will, it will become embittered and hate all living people simply because they are not imprisoned in rotting flesh. If the soul really wants to live, it needs a living or, in extreme cases, not yet cooled body.
Molly's father, who was still Prewett, recommended this book, guided by the rule "forewarned means armed." Molly dreamed of love and a big family, and her father not only knew, but also approved of her aspirations in his cold manner. But a child magician is the most delicious prey for a thirsty soul. It's the easiest and most enjoyable place to move into. He attracts the attention of evil spirits and undead, like any other magician, but he doesn't really know how to defend himself and is therefore more defenseless than Muggles and squibs. And he puts himself in danger without thinking about why, for example, you can't take Dad's wand, mess with mom's cauldron, or even just climb a tree that grows near the house.
One accident, a split second, and the parents who come to their senses will bring the child back to life. But if you don't catch this share, you hesitate, perhaps someone's soul will receive a very young, healthy, capable of conjuring a body from which it can mold anything it wants. But what kind of soul will it be? And what makes her so opposed to her own death, clinging to any opportunity to open her eyes at least once more?
Reading for the first time, Molly couldn't hold back her tears. She was sixteen at the time, she had just learned love in the awkward, trembling embrace of Arthur and lived from meeting to meeting, hiding notes in a transfiguration textbook. There was nothing more important than love then, and even in the terrible lines about the restless, Molly saw a story about unhappy lovers separated by death, imagining herself and Arthur in their place.
Sweet, eccentric Arthur, fascinated by the Muggle world, as if it were a fairy tale. A fairy tale about incredibly strong-minded people who prove day after day that they are not united by magic... How could she leave him alone? Wouldn't you be looking for a way to get back? But... After all, not every body can be so easily inhabited... And sixteen-year-old Molly thought with horror that returning could turn into a nightmare if the only body suitable for her turned out to be old, ugly, or just not like that. Arthur fell in love with her - plump, soft, smiling. Would he have loved Molly if she'd had a face that wasn't made for a smile and a thin, thin body? Would you like to hug the stone-straight camp?
No matter how tempting the opportunity to live again seemed, even in my imagination it was overgrown with so many conditions and conventions that it took me by surprise. And even then, at sixteen, Molly understood: no, even for the sake of her lover, she would not do such a thing. He won't be able to. It's too complicated, too scary.
Now she sees with her own eyes how scary it is when someone takes over your child's body.
And if everything were as simple as it is described in the book, if every word, every gesture conveyed: a stranger, perhaps dangerous! "Molly would know what to do. Inform the Aurora
Council about the alien, and they will... they will pass the information where it should be. And there, the alien will be taken away until it is clarified.
Molly isn't sure if she and Arthur would have taken it lightly. But they would have to, for the safety of Percy, the twins, and Ginny, who were too young to defend themselves from anyone.
But Ron... It was as if he hadn't completely changed. He frowns the same way when he listens to something interesting and is afraid to miss the details, as before. He also wipes his nose with his sleeve, ignoring the remarks. It's the same as always. And Molly calms down...
And then he picks up a cup of tea, hugging it with both hands and bending over the steam, as if he were very cold. And he drinks in large gulps, burning himself and frowning, although he was in no hurry before - he always waited for the tea to cool down.
"Where could you be so cold?.."
"Are you cold?"
Ron shakes his head, averting his eyes, and thank God. Molly doesn't have the strength to meet that look.
She doesn't have the strength to look at a stranger, whom she can't even hate properly: he still looks too much like her boy. She doesn't have the strength to admit that Ron may have been dead for a long time because of the twins' silly joke that her sons had committed the sin of fratricide.
I don't have the strength to suffer and not know for sure. And Molly needs advice more than ever. Just not Arthur: you don't need to bother him yet, he gets tired at work anyway. Molly needs the advice of Gul.
"Cupcakes," Gul, raising his head from his needlework, clicks his tongue approvingly, and squints at the calendar with sly yellow eyes. "Cupcakes are good, but, like, not a holiday at all... Did you come to talk?"
"I really need your advice. I can't figure out if it seems to me or not..."
Wait, wait, a spool with a needle stuck in it appears on a brown, dry palm. - Thread the needle, respect the old man.
Like any fairy, he is not indifferent to rituals and conventions and does not like being addressed in disregard of the rules. Although he sometimes forgets about them if it's serious, and now Molly is a little reassured by the spool of thread: if something really bad had happened, Hum would have told right away. And you can thread a thin eyelet the first time.
After listening to her confused story, Gul is silent for a while, lost in thought.
"Here's the deal..." He says finally. "What is happening to him is not dangerous for the family. And your boys, though fools, are not murderers. It's simple, you see... Your son wasn't always Ron Weasley."
Molly remembers the predatory look from under her eyebrows. That means he's restless...
"But... What about Ron then? Are you saying he's still alive? Can I help him?"
"You misunderstood," the drone twitches its pointed ears. "You understood `wasn't always there' as `it only recently became'. It started in July, right? Is that what you think?"
There's a lump in my throat, I can't breathe. I can only sob - yes, in July, after the concussion.
"That's not what I'm talking about. Ron was Ron last night, he was Ron in January, and in the spring, when he was just born, and even earlier - in your womb, when they didn't even give him a name. But this soul had already come to the world of the living once, and then it was given a completely different name and a different face. That's why I'm saying he wasn't always Ron Weasley. You people are often born for the second, third, or even fourth time," Gul smiles, baring its yellow fangs, "and you can understand: your life is short, but you know how to have fun... How can you do it all at once? It's just that not everyone can remember who they used to be. Ron is given this, and he remembers. Whether it's good or bad is up to you."
"Good... Very good," Molly blinks back tears and sobs again, but this time with relief. Ron's body hadn't been taken by someone, but it was still her Ron. He came into the world honestly, without taking someone else's place, without taking advantage of anyone's death. And the twins didn't cross the line, they didn't become fratricides - that's the most important thing.
"Generally speaking, Molly, you're hurting. Do you really think that I would let any kind of infection near our house? As if you don't know how I'm chasing them away from the Burrow with a filthy broom..."
"Sorry. I just... I wanted to make sure... Thanks!"
"Come on, come on, I get it. Go already, I have to work."
She wants to ask a lot of questions. About what kind of life Ron lived, what he remembers now. Where does this eternal desire to keep warm, wild look come from? Not from a good life, after all. Who was he? Did he have parents, does he remember them? Does he compare her and Arthur, or does he accept it as it is? But Gul, even if it knows, has made it clear that it's time for her to leave. And Molly leaves.
She still can't stop thinking about those others. Who are they, where do they live, and how? Eleven years have passed, which is quite a lot, but surely they can be alive? Eleven years without a son... For some reason, it seems that last time Ron was a boy, a man... Would he like to see them now? If you don't talk, don't write, in case they're Muggles, in case they don't believe in such a miracle, then at least just make sure that they're okay.
She should probably ask Ron himself. But would he want to talk? He wasn't used to sharing his secrets with her. And it was her fault, her and Arthur's. They didn't hear something important, didn't consider it important, spun around and forgot. Not once or twice, even though we tried to pay equal attention to everyone... After all, Gul was right: this wasn't the first summer that Ron had kept quiet about what was bothering him. It all started much earlier, but it just caught my eye in recent months. And I would like to shift the responsibility onto an incredulous soul who has lost his memory, but has preserved himself, but it doesn't work out. And Molly really needs to know what happened to the people who lost their son eleven years ago, so that she can have Ron. She should know.

She had once been "above expectations" in divination. She did not see the future coming true to the last detail, but she knew the theory well and was able to interpret the meaning of cards, runes and images in a crystal ball. And when Arthur leaves for work and the kids go to school, Molly takes out her fortune-telling chest, which she hasn't opened since her last pregnancy.
She has to try. Perhaps what she learns will help her understand Ron better, regain his trust... If it's not too late. To help him...
But this time the crystal ball is covered with a matte-white haze, the runes do not add up, the cards are silent, the coffee grounds have stuck together at the bottom of the cup.
It's like these people don't exist at all. Molly shuffles the deck and just starts to lay it out again, when suddenly a bunch of dried valerian falls on her hand: the thread is broken. Molly shuffles the deck and just starts to lay it out again, when suddenly a bunch of dried valerian falls on her hand: the thread is broken. Rather, it didn't break off, but as if someone had cut off the very smooth ends with a knife. It's as if she's being warned: don't meddle, don't, don't disturb. It's your son's secret, not yours. So don't touch it. There are roads that your children must walk without you.

Оставить комментарий © Copyright Гексаниэль (galinasky1410@yandex.ru) Размещен: 25/10/2026, изменен: 25/10/2026. 15k. Статистика. Рассказ: Детская, Фэнтези, Фанфик miscellaneous translations into English. Harry Potter Скачать:		Ваша оценка:
Аннотация: Molly is afraid that Ron was possessed by a dead spirit when he smashed his head. And he goes Gul to ask about Ron.

Гексаниэль Broken ties: Molly

Гексаниэль
Broken ties: Molly