Chapter 3

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2 weeks ago...

The Burrow was quieter these days.

The war had taken so much from them, but nothing hurt more than the empty chair at the dinner table.

Who was soon to be filled again.

It was a few months after Fred's death, and the Weasleys were still learning how to navigate this new reality. Dinner was served in a subdued atmosphere, the clinking of cutlery against plates the only sound as they tried to keep the conversation light.

Molly sat at the head of the table, her eyes puffy and red, but she held herself together for her family's sake. The scent of her homemade shepherd's pie filled the room, a comforting smell that masked the heavy tension lingering in the air.

As everyone began to eat, Molly cleared her throat, drawing their attention. "There's something I need to talk to you all about," she began, her voice soft but firm. The table fell silent, all eyes on her.

Arthur looked at her with a concerned expression, his fork pausing mid-air. Bill and Fleur exchanged a glance, while George stared down at his plate, his appetite long gone.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all turned to their mother, curious and a little apprehensive.

"What is it, Mum?" Ginny asked, her voice more tentative than usual. Even she had lost some of her spark since the war ended.

She had lost her older brother, the one she always looked up to the most.

Molly hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as she placed them in her lap. "The Ministry reached out to us. There's a child, an orphaned girl whose parents were... Death Eaters. She has no one else, and they've asked if we would take her in."

A heavy silence settled over the table. The word "Death Eaters" hung in the air like a curse, a reminder of all the pain and suffering they had endured.

George finally looked up, his eyes filled with anger and something more—a deep, raw hurt that had yet to be healed.

"A Death Eater's child?" he said, his voice cold and bitter. "Mum, how can you even think about that? After everything they did... after what they took from us?"

Molly flinched as if she had been struck, but she pressed on. "She's just a child, George. She didn't choose her parents, or what they did. She's lost everything—just like we have."

"Not like we have," Ron muttered, pushing his food around on his plate. "She was on their side."

"You dont know that! She was a victim too, Ronald," Hermione interjected gently, though her face showed her own inner conflict. "It's not her fault who her parents were."

Ginny frowned, her eyes narrowing. "But why us, Mum? Why do we have to be the ones to take her in? Haven't we given up enough?"

Molly's voice cracked as she spoke, her grief and exhaustion seeping through. "I know it's a lot to ask. And I know we're still hurting... but that's why we should do this. We know what it feels like to lose someone. We know what it feels like to be left behind. If we can give her a home, a chance to heal, isn't that what Fred would have wanted?"

The mention of Fred's name sent a ripple of emotion through the room. George clenched his fists, his knuckles white, while the others fell into a contemplative silence.

Arthur reached out and placed a hand over Molly's, his touch grounding her. "We've always opened our home to those in need," he said softly, glancing at each of his children. "This wouldn't be any different. We'd be giving her the same love and care we gave each of you."

Bill sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It won't be easy," he said quietly. "But if she's just a child... maybe she deserves a chance."

George pushed back his chair, unable to sit still any longer. "I can't do this," he whispered, his voice breaking. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the others in stunned silence.

Molly's eyes filled with tears as she watched him go, but she didn't call him back. She knew this was hardest for him. After a moment, she turned back to the table, her gaze pleading.

"I'm not asking you to forget what happened," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm just asking you to try. To try and show this girl that not everyone in the world is cruel. That there is still kindness left, even after all the darkness."

Ginny bit her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Alright, Mum," she whispered. "If you think it's the right thing to do... we'll try."

Ron nodded slowly, though his expression remained conflicted. "We'll give it a shot," he said, glancing at Hermione, who gave him an encouraging smile.

Molly exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding through her. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you all."

As the family tried to resume their meal, the weight of what was to come lingered in the air. They knew it wouldn't be easy.

The scars from the war were still too fresh, too deep. But they would try, for the sake of this child and for the sake of the family they were trying so hard to keep together.

And somewhere, deep in their hearts, they hoped that this small act of kindness might help them heal as well.

A heart in the Ashes - George Weasley Where stories live. Discover now