Ok, but imagine this.

It’s two or three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, so Harry Potter is 19, maybe 20. He and Ginny wanted to visit her parents, so after she’s left for practice Harry finds himself at the table having breakfast in the Burrow once again.

When Harry looks up, he notices that it’s just him, Arthur and Molly.

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Harry didn’t say a word at first, because his mind kept drifting away from the comfort of the warm breakfast table and back into the cold emptiness that they had all been trying to overcome, or at least ignore.

It always seemed to hit hardest when he was alone, but the guilt he had been feeling hit him harder than ever at the sight of Molly and Arthur alone with him.



Harry tried his best to keep his focus on the sausages on his plate, but suddenly his sadness got the better of him. He dropped his fork quietly, and felt an all too familiar burning around his eyes.

Molly instinctualy arose from the table, but Harry waved her off.

After years of abuse, Harry still hadn’t found himself worthy of a mother’s affection.

“He’s gone because of me…” Harry said hoarsely, barely audible through tears. At this, Molly and Arthur began to cry as well, although silently.

“Harry…” Molly began gently, steeling herself for what she knew she had to say.

“Harry, no one blames you.”

Harry couldn’t help but notice that while Molly’s voice carried the same soothing tone as Ginny’s, there was something more resolute to her words, and it made him weep harder.

He hadn’t yet been able to express to Ginny how responsible he felt for her brother’s death, although he had tried on several occasions.

“I can’t understand how you don’t hate me” said Harry, through tears that were now falling in earnest.

Molly backed away at these words, although the grip Harry hadn’t noticed before suddenly increased on his shoulder.

“Harry Potter!” Said Molly almost angrily, reminding him so much of the stern woman he met at 12 years old that he was distracted from his sadness for a moment.

“In case you haven’t figured this out yet, you ARE a member of this family. Ginny loves you, Ronald and Hermione may as well may as well be your brother and sister…

Fred and George even used to make jokes about adopting you as a triplet!”

Harry was taken aback. This was the first time he had ever heard Molly Weasley mention Fred’s name since he had died.

“Have some more eggs” said Arthur quietly, tipping a bowl over Harry’s plate.

Harry had known of course that the grief he felt couldn’t possibly compare to what Fred’s siblings, and especially his parents, were dealing with every day.

Not until expressing this however, had he ever felt closer to all of them.

“I’m sorry” said Harry, hoping that Arthur and Molly would know he was being sincere without asking him to raise his eyes from the table.

“You don’t have apologize for anything son” said Mrs. Weasley, as naturally and gently as he’d ever heard her speak before.

This was the day Harry Potter learned how to knit, the muggle way, so that he could give his adopted mother a Christmas jumper just as she had given him, so many years ago.