Saturday, 16 April 2011

Yes, I like Harry Potter. Was that not mentioned?

As you may or may not know (every single person at work does, but some of the rest of you mightn't), I am a member of the ANU Harry Potter Club. Among other things, one of our activities is a Fangasm Exchange, where you write down three criteria you want, put everyone's in a hat, draw one out and then you have to create something for someone else, involving the three criteria.
The three criteria I have to create something from are
- Harry
- Vernon Dursley or Sirius or Arthur Weasley, and
- the Puberty Talk

I picked Arthur, but I chose to tell the story from Molly Weasley's point of view. This is the beginning of it:

Molly Weasley is a big believer in the idea that you can’t get a man to do a woman’s job, and in most cases, she’s got the woman’s job covered. The following is a time when, try as she might, she just wasn’t fit for the job.

Another long, sweet summer, seeming all the brighter for the threats that now lay in the past. The dark, figurative cloud over the lives of wizards and Muggles alike has figuratively drifted away, and even the rainiest, stormiest day can’t darken the spirits of most people. Every day seemed like a blessing; except for today, in the life of one unfortunate nearly-man. Not that he knew it yet.

From across the breakfast table, Molly observed the way he looked at her daughter, and began happily entertaining thoughts about him one day becoming her son. This kept her occupied until he looked up at her expectantly.

“Mrs Weasley?” said Harry. Molly started, realising she’d been staring blankly, smiling like a fool and holding a piece of toast halfway to her mouth for a number of minutes.

“Sorry, yes, dear?”

“I was just wondering if you could pass the butter. Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, of course,” she flustered. “There you go. Would you like anything else?”

“No, thanks, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said, as he turned back to Ginny. “I’ve got all I need right here…”
As the young couple shared a secret look, Molly blushed, embarrassed by the tone of his voice and the implication beneath it. At the same time, she remembered the previous night, where she’d woken to the creaking of the stairs, almost as if someone had been walking from Ron’s room down to Ginny’s. As she looked at Harry and Ginny, giggling and whispering to each other, a terrible realisation began to dawn on her. Throughout breakfast, Arthur had been sitting contentedly, amicably interrupting the conversations of the others, not paying attention to the lovesick teens, and not realising what had been happening in Molly’s very own house just the previous night. She seemed to be the only one who even noticed, and the more Molly thought about it (though she tried not to think about it too much), the more she came to the conclusion that something had to be done. And this may be a case where she wasn’t the woman for the job.

Day 15 – A song that describes you:
This is Me by Charlie McDonnell
I wouldn't say this describes me, but many of the things in the song apply to me.
None of that song is about me, but some of it might apply.

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