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The Weasleys, one of the Sacred 28, are an old pure blood family. They could track their line back to the times of pre-Roman invasion where it was still commonplace to practice rituals and the average wizard and witch used staffs instead of the wands they use today.
It was a miracle, though perhaps not, that the Weasleys had stayed in prominence up until they lost their seat on the Wizengamot to the Malfoys starting their now legendary blood feud.
Molly and her brothers were visiting their Weasley relations on account of being a Prewett. The two families were closely related which wasn’t saying much about pure bloods as they were all related in some fashion. However it was this closeness that led her to be placed in the charge of great Aunt Matilda Weasley alongside her Weasley cousins. Molly looked back in fondness of her childhood sitting around the fireplace with Arthur, listening to the few good stories Aunt Matilda could tell, her dry voice more than not leading to boredom rather than excitement, but there was one story she and Arthur she loved to hear about.
Neither Prewett nor Weasley really knows how long ago, but the founding story of the Weasleys goes as thus.
Long ago there was a great lonely old mage. Fearing what they would lose to death the old mage set out on an adventure to a land to find the land of immortality. But the old mage was frail and would not make the journey alone so they went in search of companions.
The first was a young witch who was exceedingly talented. She could use her magic to defend the old mage! The old mage asked the witch to join them, but the witch could not be persuaded from their fathers bedside.
The old mage had to convince her, they said.
“Don’t you see little girl, your father isn’t long for this world. Don’t you think he would be happy if you knew how to provide for yourself. I can teach you to use magic and you could be a fine witch.”
And so the old mage had a new companion.
The next was a young warrior who could cut forge valleys out of mountains, hair of fire and heart that knew only bravery. He could use his strength to defend the old mage! The old mage asked the warrior to join him but the warrior was on their own journey to forge a legend.
The old mage had to convince him, they said.
“Dont you see little boy, you would get lost on your journey. I can take you on my adventure to a legendary land, you would be a hero to all if you told them of our travels.”
And so the old mage had a new companion.
As they journeyed together the old mage came to love the young witch and the young warrior. They took away the old mages loneliness.
When they came to the end of their journey and found the land where the old mage could live forever and forget death. But the old mage would have to leave the young witch and warrior, for the land of immorality where for those whose lives were over and not for those with full ones in front of them.
The old mage made their choice and completed their adventure, but not to the land where they could live forevermore without the fear of death but instead they chose to live their life with the young warrior and witch.
One day the young warrior and witch and from them came the line of Weasleys with the warriors fiery hair and the witches temper.
It was Molly’s favorite childhood story, better than any of those in Beedle the Bard. It was about real people! Although when she married Arthur she hadn’t expected to learn that the story didn’t quite end where great Aunt Matilda had implied.
1979, November 26th - The Burrow
Mister and Misses Weasley were enjoying a late morning in bed, spending as much time as they could, just the two of them. With five children under their roof such moments had become rare enough to treasure.
Only yesterday they attended the wedding of James Potter and Lily Evans. For one evening the war had been forgotten and replaced with good company. Sirius Black convinced Peter Pettigrew on the dancefloor after failing to pry James from Lily's side. Hagrid was property drunk and having an animated conversation with a coat rack.
For a few precious hours everyone had remembered what peace felt like. Free from what the future held. The war was in full swing but all those celebrating didn’t seem to care.
The couple allowed themselves this moment to themselves. The children were still sleeping off the last nights excitement
Now reality had returned.
"I love you, Molly."
There was some rustling, and Arthur could feel his wife move on her side of the bed. He was already practically exposed to the cool morning air but Molly seemed determined to steal whatever part of the blanket that still covered him. Molly, now on her side, faced husband.
Arthur often expressed his affection for her through his actions. So it was something of a surprise to hear him use the words that seemed to fail him so often during their time in Hogwarts.
“What a silly thing to say Arthur, I married and I’ve given you more than enough children to make my answer obvious, did I not?”
Arthur remained silent for a long while.
"When Father was dying," he began quietly, "he asked me to make him a promise."
Molly reached for his hand. "What promise?"
"That I'd keep an old bargain."
She frowned.
"What bargain?"
"The one between the Weasleys..." He hesitated. "...and the old mage."
Now Molly was concerned. An ancient pact with a long dead mage sounded serious. What bargain could have possibly been struck and endured for centuries? What kind of magic, besides dark, lingered for that long?
"I know how it sounds," Arthur said, "but I promise you, Molly, you don't have to worry."
"Arthur," she said carefully, "that's rather difficult when you've just told me your family has been honoring some ancient pact since before Merlin."
"I know, I know." Arthur cut in. "Just let me finish. When I was sixteen my father took me to see Aunt Matilda after Christmas. It was just the three of us.”
"Whatever for?"
“To tell me what every head of the family is told."
"And that is?" Molly could tell she was beginning to come off annoyed, but she couldn’t help herself.
Arthur looked toward the bedroom window instead of answering.
Molly felt an irritation prick at the back of her neck.She had married into this family.
She had given Arthur five children. If there was some ancient obligation hanging over the Weasley name, then surely she had a right to know. Instead she was only hearing of it because Arthur's father had died.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the children asleep down the hall. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George. Were they bound by this bargain too? Was that why Arthur had waited so long to tell her? Could it even be broken?
Arthur finally spoke. "The story never ended."
Molly rolled her eyes, she was starting to get really annoyed, Arthur should just finish the bloody story already. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Arthur."
"The lonely old mage..."
She opened them again.
"...She?."
"...She?"
Arthur nodded. "And she's still alive."
Silence filled the room.
Then—
"...Arthur."
"I'm serious."
She searched his face for the hint of a smile. There wasn't one. "You expect me to believe the mage from Aunt Matilda's bedtime story is wandering around Britain?"
Arthur let out a small, helpless laugh. "No." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I expect you to think I've finally gone spare."
"I wasn't going to say it."
"You were thinking it."
"I was."
The joke eased the tension for only a heartbeat. Arthur's expression settled into something quieter. "My father met her."
Molly's brow furrowed.
"...He what?"
"When he was a boy." Arthur spoke with such maddening calm that Molly almost wanted to shake him. "As did Grandfather, and Great-grandfather before him."
Molly stared.
"So..." she said slowly. "This isn't just some story your father believed."
Arthur shook his head.
"No."
"And you knew all this."
Another nod.
"For years."
"...Yes."
She looked away from him before she said something she'd regret. When she finally spoke again, her voice was softer. "What does she want from us?"
Arthur blinked. "Nothing."
"Arthur."
"I'm serious."
"No one's immortal for over a thousand years and simply drops by for tea."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Arthur's mouth.
"...Actually."
Molly gave him a look. He wisely abandoned the joke.
"Father asked her that once."
"And?"
"She didn't understand the question."
"...What?"
"She asked what he meant."
Arthur leaned back against the headboard. "Father said she'd always visited the family from time to time. Not often. Sometimes decades passed between visits."
"Doing what?"
"Checking on everyone."
"That's all?"
"Mostly."
Molly folded her arms.
"Arthur."
"I'm getting there."
"When my grandmother had her first child, she was terrified she'd make a terrible mother."
"What did this mage do?"
"She stayed for the evening."
"And?"
"They drank tea."
"...Tea?"
"And Grandmother talked."
Arthur shrugged.
"She always said she'd never met anyone who listened quite like that."
The room was quiet again.
"When Father was seven," Arthur said after a moment, "he wandered into the orchard during a storm."
Molly's head snapped up.
"He wasn't hurt."
Arthur caught the look on her face.
"She found him before anyone else did."
"What happened?"
"She wrapped him in her cloak."
"...That's it?"
"She walked him home."
Arthur smiled faintly.
"Father used to say he'd never been warmer in his life."
Molly found herself relaxing despite every instinct telling her not to.
"So that's the bargain?"
"There isn't one."
Arthur looked down at their joined hands.
"Not really."
"But you called it a bargain."
"Because Father did."
He thought for a moment.
"I think... it's more of a promise."
"What sort of promise?"
"That if she ever comes to a Weasley home..." He squeezed her hand. "...she's welcomed as family."
Molly stared at him. No giving up your first born child. No ancient blood magic. No debt carried across generations. Just an old woman…
Molly suddenly felt very sad for the old mage, ‘I wonder if she feels lonely.’