Chapter Text
Monday, December 16, 2019
Molly's target was on his way back to Gryffindor Tower, turning into the corridor with the Fat Lady's portrait, when she stuck her head out of the broom closet where she was hiding.
"Hey, you. Al's friend, with the blond hair."
The tall third-year froze in mid-step. He pointed at himself, as if unsure if she had been talking to him.
"My name is Scorpius," he said stupidly.
"Oh, wow. It's so weird that you'd say that because I DIDN'T ASK! Come here."
"Wh—AAGGHH!"
She grabbed him and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind her. Scorpius blinked, pulling away from her, and looked confusedly around the small space. The room was dimly lit by a magic lantern set on a peg in the wall. Aside from Molly, whose face was shadowed, there were two sets of knitting needles in the air, flashing in the light as they briskly clacked together.
"Um," he said, which was a reasonable response.
"I'm knitting my family scarfs for Christmas. It's more heartfelt than buying presents!" she added, as though Scorpius had accused her of something.
"Alright?" he said, backing fearfully against the door.
"What would Al like?" she said impatiently. Then, "Do you know what kind of Weasley jumper he gets?"
"What jumper?!"
She snapped her fingers impatiently. "Every year, Grandma Weasley makes everyone in the family a jumper for Christmas. But there are about thirty of us, so I can't remember what color or pattern she makes for each person! Ugh, maybe I should just give him Hufflepuff colors?"
"Well...I don't think your grandmother made it, but I know he has a jacket for his favorite Quidditch team? It's black and white, and I remember the team's initials are 'M.M.' Does that help?"
"...Yes. Yes, it does!" Now the light was making her manic smile look quite unsettling. "You don't know James' favorite team, do you? Other than the Harpies? Never mind, I can find that out. Thanks," she said, suddenly grabbing Scorpius' arm and opening the door. "But don't tell Al. Or anyone else in my family! Because if you do, no one will find your body."
With that, she pushed the stunned boy out of the closet and slammed it closed once again.
Molly liked to knit. She had learned it from Grandma Molly as a child, and while sitting around and making baby blankets seemed like an old woman's hobby, she did find the simple, repetitive task to be relaxing. But now she was working at a feverish pace. Even with magic, it was taking far too long, and doing two or three at once just resulted in mistakes that she needed to correct.
Making presents was her only option, however. She couldn't even go shopping for gifts after the end of term, because she didn't have any money saved up, except for the few Galleons she had planned to spend on The M#dblood album. She also didn't have enough yarn, which was going to become a problem eventually.
She hadn't realized how much she was subconsciously relying on Dominique's terrible gifts to make her own stinginess seem less bad. If nothing else, she couldn't let Dominique seem more generous than she was. She could only hope that the heartfelt-hard-work excuse would fool everyone.
It was also annoying that she had to work in a closet, but she had too many nosy relatives in Gryffindor Tower.
She was thinking about all this when the door suddenly opened, and one of those sneaky relatives popped his head in.
"Hey, Mol!"
"James?!"
She spun around as her cousin flashed a toothy grin. He opened the door wider and stepped inside, adjusting his glasses as he took in the floating needles.
"Knitting, eh? Not what I expecting when I saw you hiding in a closet, but to each his own, I guess."
"Go away!"
"No," he said simply. "Not until you tell—OOF!"
He barely saw Molly draw her wand before he suddenly found himself on his backside in the corridor, the door swinging shut in front of him.
He stood up, fixing his glasses again, and pounded on the door.
"Alright, Mol! Guess I'll go ask a prefect if we're allowed to hole ourselves up in a broom closet. Maybe Louis knows!"
He stepped back, crossed his arms, and smirked as the door opened again.
"Alright, fine! If you want your Christmas surprise ruined—"
"I do, it's why presents are no longer hidden in our house."
"—I'm knitting scarves for everyone in the family."
"Hmm," he said, in a judgemental sort of way.
"It's heartfelt."
"Sounds cheap to me."
Molly's face was almost the same shade of red as his hair. "I'll have you know it's a lot of work, and I'm trying very hard to get it done in time for the holiday! Even with magic, each scarf takes hours, and I can only make them when I don't have schoolwork, and I have to do one for everyone, because for some reason we don't just do a Secret Santa like a normal family this large!"
"Hmm," he repeated. "Are you at least spending actual gold on my birthday present?"
Molly twitched in annoyance. "Damn it. With all these to make, I forgot that was this week."
James' eyes narrowed. "Of course you did."
"Oh, don't start, I am in no—"
"Everyone always forgets my birthday, just because it's six days before Christmas! It's not fair! Al's birthday is six days before Valentine's Day, but nobody—"
"Do you have any idea where I can get more yarn?!" she interrupted.
"Don't you know the Doubling Charm?"
"We haven't learned it yet, and away, duplicated items are crap, so I'd prefer real yarn if I can find some."
James considered. "You could unravel one of Grandma's jumpers. I've actually got one that's too small, if you want it."
"That would help a lot, thanks," she practically snarled. Then, "What colors do you want for yours?"
An hour later, around the same time that Molly was trying to convert two Weasley jumpers into usable yarn, James loitered in a bare corridor in the dungeons, staring at a piece of very worn parchment.
Two dots, labeled Dominique Weasley and Danielle Phipps, were moving across the map toward the dot labeled James Potter. He casually folded the parchment and stuck it in his pocket. Footsteps approached.
"Dom!" he called. Then he winked amorously at her friend, a pretty seventh-year with curly hair. "And you're Danielle, right?"
Danielle looked unimpressed as Dominique rolled her eyes.
"Go on. I'll meet you in the common room. What have you got?" he said to James, as Danielle left them behind.
"Molly's knitting everyone scarves."
Dominique scoffed.
"It's an improvement over nothing," James groused. "I can't believe she was going to blow us off. That's even worse than your terrible gifts!"
Dominique would have been insulted, but as she bought terrible presents on purpose, she took it as a compliment. "Well, thanks for your help. And while we're on the topic of presents..." Dominique grinned slyly and pulled a wrapped package out of her bag. "Happy birthday!"
James' face broke into a grin as he took it.
"Thank you! I'm glad somebody remembered."
"What's that?" Danielle asked later, as Dominique scribbled away in the Slytherin Common Room. "Because if it's your Muggle Studies essay, I'll sell my soul for you to let me copy it."
"Sorry. It's actually a letter to my cousin. Lucy," she added, because she had so many. "If you know Molly, it's her little sister. She won't be starting Hogwarts until next year."
"Oh."
"My essay is on my nightstand. Just change things a bit so Professor Jones won't notice."
"Oh, thank you," Danielle sighed, and ran into their dormitory.
Dominique smirked as she read her letter.
Dear Lucy,
Are you still having trouble coming up with Christmas presents? Because I had a fun idea! What if you bought everyone in the family a scarf or something? It would make the whole process easier, it's something everyone could use, and we could wear them when we take pictures on Christmas Day! I'd do it myself, but I only thought of it after buying everything. I've including a coupon I have for Gladrags in case you like the idea. Either way, good luck shopping, and I'll see you over the holiday.
Love from your cousin,
Dominique
She grinned like a shark as she stuffed the letter in an envelope and left to visit the Owlery.