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Molly picked up her ring from the counter and studied it. She had worn this for around forty years, only ever taking it off to refresh if once in a while. More often now, than when her kids were young and running around. Molly had time for all kinds of things now.
She brushed off the last speckle of ash. A clear gleaming of the pearls twinkled familiarly. The pearls in this ring had been forged in phoenix ashes. Rare and durable. She could keep it that way by burning if occasionally. She treasured it greatly.
Back then, when she was young and bright-eyed, she had imagined handing the ring down to one of her children. She never imagined she’d end up having so many, and now most of them had settled and married without ever glancing at her hand.
They all knew about the ring of course. Knew it was a family heirloom. That it was supposed to be passed down.
Molly always thought she would give it to Billy. He was the eldest. Responsible and practical, for the most part. Though, Molly had thought he would marry a different sort of woman. Someone a little… less. No, that was not the right word. But she had thought Billy’s woman would have been sturdier, more robust. Instead, he went and married Fleur, who already had a family ring, because of course she did. A big pearl, gleaming in a dusty blue, perched on a slim long finger. Which suited her. And really, Molly knew now that Fleur was exactly what Billy needed, even if she didn’t plan on announcing the fact any time soon.
Charlie never seemed to settle down, and even if he did, Molly couldn’t imagine he would want something so traditional as a ring. She never really considered offering him the ring, though, she would have given it to him had he asked.
Then there were Percy, who also married a woman from a fullblood family, already settled with a ring of their own. Molly would have offered, but she was glad she hadn’t. Because to her the ring was important, and she treasured it. She wasn’t so sure Percy's wife would have appreciated that.
The twins, well, only George now, really. She never really imagined giving them the ring because, well… they were twins, and she didn’t want to offer one something and not the other. Even if it was all different now it didn’t feel right. Besides, the twins always did their own thing.
Molly had thought about giving Ron the ring before. Back when he had been with Hermione while they were so young. It reminded her of herself and Arthur. Then they split, and she didn’t want to add to his heartbreak. She still thought Ron would like it. Probably the one of her children who would appreciate it the most.
Ginny certainly liked to wear jewelry. Her hands were always adorned with them, big and small, always changing. As well as her ears, pierced from top to bottom. Molly had asked her once if she could imagine herself wearing the family ring.
“Why? Because I’m your only girl?” She’d answered. And Molly was reluctant to part with it if it meant it would be staying in some drawer or tossed on top of the bathroom sink.
It left Ron, really. And then he went and found himself a fullblood woman too, so now Molly was on the fence about what to do. She didn't want to put Ron in a situation if it came down to it. Pansy had as much history as Ron’s family had. Certainly, a much wealthier history.
To Molly, the ring was perhaps the most expensive item she owned, but that’s not why it mattered. No, because the ring was the symbol of her marriage. It was the symbol of where she came from, her mother, and her grandmother. And she wanted to give the ring to one of her own. Perhaps George was her best bet after all.
Pansy had turned out to be a very different girl than Molly expected. Although she suspected that if it ever got to the point of marriage for the two of them, Pansy would turn to her own mother and their traditions, rather than accept an old band with just a few pearls forged in the ashes of a phoenix.
She tucked it back on her finger. It was still a little warm to the touch.