Work Text:
“She ate my gingerbread house!”
—in the chaos of the Weasley household—
Thinking back, upon learning of the distant cousin leaving children in America that needed taking in—
Molly didn ’t think things could become even more chaotic in their household, and neither had Arthur.
For the simple matter, they thought they knew how unruly children could be given how used to their own children they were, as well as Molly ’s experience watching her cousins-by-marriage, the young Black siblings with Sirius being a right terror, and yet—
Perhaps they weren ’t prepared.
Thinking back, the one worry was how to feed an additional six months only for it to become nonsequential upon learning of the settlement and insurance payouts that they ’d prefer not to discuss as that involved discussing Mrs. Herdman’s untimely demise, nor did they want to discuss how the Herdman children had an income that meant—
Ron was—
Thinking back, Ron disliked having to share with his siblings, complaining whenever he didn ’t get his bacon sandwiches because all Molly could afford was the tinned corn beef. This eased up somewhat with both Muggle and wizarding services also providing some relief for the financial burden of taking on six children who weren’t their own, who might not even be magical, for that matter, helping to Muggle-proof the house.
“So what if she did?” Imogene said, being the same age as Ron. Ron let out a sniff while Ralph—
They ’d see whether he’d be attending Hogwarts next summer.
Imogene, though, was coming to the defense of her siblings as always. Ron no longer liked being the youngest boy or having Ralph, who was much rougher than the twins could ever be.
And there was Gladys Herdman, frosting and gingerbread crumbs on her face, looking, in Molly ’s opinion, like a little angel as if the evidence weren’t right there on her face, and she couldn’t help but wipe the frosting and crumbs off of Gladys's face. “You need to be patient with her, Ron.”
“But she knows better!” Ron said, displeased that his gingerbread house—
It was certainly an activity Molly wouldn ’t have thought of before taking in what was likely Muggle children, particularly with the cost of ingredients, and yet—
There was help that she managed to budget, that meant she could provide the entire family of now fifteen with a Christmas to be remembered, something the entire Herdman family was aching for, that love and care that whatever community they came from hadn ’t given then—
“She doesn’t!” Imogene said. “To her, it’s just food.”
“How about we not stuff ourselves with sweets?” Molly said to Gladys, leading her away from the partially eaten gingerbread house. “They’ll upset our tummy and mean we won’t want to eat Christmas dinner, right?”
Gladys didn ’t say anything, simply letting Molly guide her into the other room where the boys—
The boys were simply being boys, with behaviors such as smoking being things Molly quickly broke them off the habit of, finding a way to explain the reasons why it was better not to smoke, quickly realizing the Herdman cousins did things to get attention—
And she did have herself pulled in even more directions, but—
In the back of her head, she remembered the adult who brought them all the way from America describing the living conditions as well as the behavior that made them think the Herdman children might be banned for life from Muggle flights, something Molly didn ’t quite understand.
The Herdman house was like the gingerbread house now, all run down, while the Burrow remained a place kept from becoming derelict despite its awkwardness. And it had become even more crowded with more additions for the children, with some help in making it look somewhat normal on the outside.