finding molly (II)
I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back
and I understand why you wouldn't want to
I guess it's up to me to find a way to get to you
- There Was No Thief, Relient K
She's always been the writer type, Lysander knows, and the writer type of people, well- they aren't exactly normal or anything.
So it's no surprise to him when she disappears one day and no one knows where she's gone.
I mean, that's what writers do, isn't it?
Her father doesn't see it that way though. He doesn't approve of her being a writer, because it's far too creative to suit his picky tastes. But she doesn't care, it seems, because she's determined to get a book published. He believes in her with all of his heart, truly. She's one of the best writers he knows.
But now that he's the one that has to go find her- well, that's quite a different situation, isn't it?
One day, Lysander's laying out and relaxing in a chair outside of his house when Percy Weasley comes up.
"FIND MOLLY," He screams. "SHE'S GONE SOMEWHERE AGAIN. I DON'T KNOW WHERE."
Lysander shrugs, pushing his sunglasses farther down his nose. "She's probably gone to find herself or whatever it is writers do."
"FIND HER," Percy screeches, causing Lysander to jump.
"Um, okay," Lysander sighs, running his hand through his light brown hair. "I suppose I'll go find her."
Percy's face, which is now that Weasley shade of red, turns to glare at him. "LIKE HECK YOU WILL. IT WAS YOU THAT GAVE HER THE IDEA TO RUN AWAY IN THE FIRST TIME, I SWEAR TO IT. YOU'VE NEVER BEEN A GOOD INFLUENCE ON MY BABY GIRL."
"I suppose I haven't," Lysander shrugs. "But hey, I'm going to find her, and that's all that matters, anyway. And I don't influence her to write. I'm terrible at writing."
"GOOD," Percy shouts. "YOU BETTER HAVE HER BACK IN 10 DAYS OR I SWEAR I'LL… I'LL… I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'LL DO. BUT IT WON'T BE GOOD, YOU HEAR?"
"Loud and clear, captain," Lysander salutes Percy. Satisfied, Percy finally leaves, so that Lysander has some time to think.
"How do you find someone who's made it their goal not to be found?" Lysander wonders aloud.
Come on, Lysander, Lysander encourages himself inside. You've been in love with her for nearly two years now. You have to remember some things that might have been hints as to where she went.
They're sitting on the porch of Lysander's house, popsicle in each of their hands, like five year olds. Though they're eighteen and fresh out of wizarding school, they don't act like it.
"Let me have a lick," Molly giggles, leaning over so that her head barely brushes Lysander's shoulder.
"Do you want me to contract mononucleosis?" Lysander retorts, elbowing her, but not hard enough to make her move away.
Molly's blue-green eyes bear into his. "What's that, Lys, my dear?"
"Kissing disease," He replies simply. And with that, he moves in and captures her lips in a kiss.
She giggles against his lips. "There are diseases you can get from kissing?"
"Oh yes," Lysander begins. "They're transmitted by fluids, you see, and then they…"
Elbowing him in the stomach, Molly informs him, "I don't care, Mr. Doctor Man. Muggles do have such interesting diseases though. I should write about them someday."
"They're not only Muggle diseases!" Lysander protests, miffed. "Wizards and witches get them too, only they get healed within a matter of time. Which, you see, is why I have to know the diseases, so that I can tell which disease it is that I have to heal."
"Got it, got it," Molly replies simply, rolling her eyes like he's the stupidest thing ever.
He raises an eyebrow at her. "Would you rather me be a poor bum on the street?"
"No," Molly states simply. Leaning over, she rests her head against his chest, and allows him to wrap his arms around her. "I like you just the way you are, Lysander. Besides, I'm a writer, and we need something to keep us stable-"
Pause. Stop. Rewind.
"I'm a writer, and we need something to keep us stable-"
The line repeated itself over and over again in Lysander's mind. Was that where she had gone? Somewhere that would keep her stable? Biting the side of his lip, he just shrugged, and pulled out a notepad, scribbling down a stable place on it.
(return to flashback)
"Anyway," She continues, the imaginary her seeming so chipper and happy. "I've got to go. Dad doesn't like me out too late, even though I'm out of school and all. You know how he is."
"I know," He grins at her, giving her a long, lasting kiss before she leaves. "See you tomorrow?"
"When do we not see each other?" She questions, raising one eyebrow at him. "Love you, Lysander."
So that had been it. Other than the clue that he'd written down, she hadn't given any other clues to where she was going. He bangs his head against the wall, thinking.
His favourite way to think had always been by walking around. Walking into the house, he yells upstairs, "I'm going for a walk."
"All right," Lorcan Scamander, his twin brother yells back down. "Take your time!"
"Have fun making out with Lucy while I'm gone," He grumbles under his breath, wishing Molly was the type to stay in one place for a second.
The air outside is warm and crisp, he thinks, the perfect temperature for walking. He only walks a few steps before he sees a nice, large tree and is hit by yet another memory.
The Molly of his visions is standing there, pale hands on skinny hips. "Do you ever climb trees, Lysander?"
"I've tried, a few times," Lysander shrugs. "But I got halfway there and jumped back down. It's a lot of work, you know."
She shoots him a withering look. "It's called perseverance, Lysander."
"Something I don't have a lot of," He replies, beaming at her in that innocent way of his. "But I'm sure you can do it, Ms. Keep Pushing Even When You're Dying."
Her eyes search him, trying to figure out if he's challenging her or not. Assuming he is, she grins at him. "Of course I can climb a simple tree."
Taking off running at the tree, once she gets there, her hands grasp the tree trunk. Her feet slide up the tree, going from branch to branch. Somehow, despite her obvious female gender, she's able to scale the tree perfectly, almost to the top.
"Um, Molly?" Lysander calls nervously. "Don't fall down or anything, all right? I mean, of course I'll catch you, like that cliché prince or whatever, but still. I don't think your father would be too happy if he heard you'd been climbing trees."
"I don't think so either," She grins at him. "But of course I won't fall. Come up here with me?"
He just smiles a bit between the cracks of the tree branches. "I would, but then who would catch you when you fall?"
"You don't always have to be there to catch me when I fall, Lysander," Molly sighs, staring down at him, piercing him with her gaze.
"But if I don't," He replies seriously, "then who will?"
"I don't care," She sighs, staring down at him. "Just come up and be with me."
It's enough to make him come up there, cause he could never resist her in anything, really. He joins her on the branch across from her. "It's so far off the ground."
"I love it," She confesses. "It's sort of like a thrill, y'know? If I ever go anywhere, even visit somewhere, I would want it to be somewhere with lots of tall trees. Then I could just sit on top of one and watch the horizon. It would be so much fun."
"Wouldn't it?" Lysander grins over at her. "I should go now… homework and all… see you later, all right, Molls? Are you staying up here?"
"I am," She tells him dreamily. "Bye, Lysander. Love you."
"Bye," He says, pecking her quickly on the lips before lowering himself to the ground slowly.
Angrily, later that night her dad marches over, yelling about how she's been up in that stupid tree for 3 hours now.
Within his mind, a lightbulb goes off. She'd said that if she travelled anywhere, she'd want it to have lots of trees. Was that a hint of where she's currently residing? Grinning, he scribbles it down on his notepad in his other hand.
A little further down he comes to Malfoy Manor. He wonders absentmindedly how the whole Rose/ Dominique/ Scorpius triangle is doing. Of course, he'd never had any good advice for them. That was all Molly's job.
Shaking his head, he continues to walk, his feet making imprints on the dirty path. A gust of wind blows by and he involuntarily shudders. That brings back yet another memory.
She's walking down one of the paths at Hogwarts on a no-uniform weekend, playing with a string of her hair when he runs into her and knocks her down. Quickly, he apologises, holding out a hand. "Molly, I'm sorry! Here, let me help you up."
Grinning, she takes his hand. "In a hurry, Lysander? Got a date?"
"How could I have a date?" He asks. "You're obviously not going anywhere."
She blushes, turning that nice shade of red that he likes as he pulls her up. Shrugging, she just grins. "Thought you might have found something better."
"I would never," He replies, pulling her into his arms. "I could never." Looking her up and down, he realises she's wearing a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, though it's the end of October. He rubs his hands up and down her arms to give her warmth. "Molly, dear, it's nearly November. Don't you think it's about time for you to start wearing long trousers at the very least?"
"I like the cold," She replies defensively, crossing her pale, freckled arms to hide the goose bumps. "In my opinion, it's much better than being hot. Then you burn up. I much prefer freezing; it feels so much better on your skin, the cool air! Besides, it sounds so much better too, the crisp, cold air."
"You're such a writer," he teases, lightly hitting her arm.
"So what?" She replies, grinning once again. "What else would I be without that?"
"You wouldn't be Molly, that's for sure," Lysander agrees, slowly stretching to put his arm around her. When she grins up at him, he just shrugs with a big smile. "You looked cold."
"I told you," She says, frowning at him in that 'be serious' way of hers. "I like being cold. Even though my favourite season isn't winter- that's definitely spring- the cold feels good on my arms, when it swirls around me or whatever. If I ever moved somewhere, Lysander, or even went there on vacation, it would have to be somewhere cold, mark my words.
"Fine then," He feigns surprise, shooting her one of his looks that means he's extremely hurt. "Do you want me to remove my arm?"
Leaning her head on his shoulder, she burrows into the warmth. Shaking her head slowly, she says, "No, you can leave it here. Sometimes I like warmth too. But only sometimes."
"You're a funny girl, Molly Weasley," He replies, smiling down at her. "I mean, who else would wear shorts in the winter?"
"Who else would save your sorry bum whenever you get in trouble once again?" Molly giggles, smirking at him because they both know that it's true. "I mean, Lys, you're trying to get into Healer school and all. Shouldn't you be trying to tone it down a bit and get some of that stuff you did off your permanent record?"
"I am trying to tone it down," Lysander protests. "Can't you tell?"
"No," She replies, giggling. And that's that, because when Molly Weasley the Second speaks, Lysander always or usually agrees with her.
Yeah, he was so smitten with her.
Well, that's something else, he decides, tapping the pen against his chin. Sighing, he leans down and scribbles it across the note pad before wondering if, when he goes to find her, he'll have to venture into the cold. He'd never been quite the big fan of cold places. But if that's where Molly's staying, he decides, he'll have to go there. Not just for her father, who will kill him if he doesn't successfully bring her back, but for him too- because he misses her already.
He keeps walking when he runs across two very familiar people, walking hand in hand, seemingly in deep discussion.
"Lorcan, we can't just keep pretending that everything's all right-" The girl hisses. Upon seeing Lysander, she cuts herself up. "Oh, hi, Ly." Lucy Weasley blinks her blue eyes innocently.
"Hello, Lucy," He greets her politely. Turning to her right, he sees his twin brother standing there, the epitome of embarrassment. "Lorcan. What's going on?"
"We were just talking about Molly," Lucy exhales through her nose, looking incredibly unhappy. Surprised, Lorcan's head flies up, as if he hadn't expected her to say that. She just frowns at him. "Why not, Lorcan? He has as much a right to know as you do, if not more."
"Know what?" Lysander wonders, hoping it could lead him to his ultimate goal of finding her.
She sighs again, showing the circles under her eyes that make her look twice her age. "I suppose Dad's informed you that Molly left once again. However, we don't think that it's one of her typical writer's inspiration trips this time. I mean, she's been talking for weeks about getting out of this heat. Not to mention she's been gone for weeks on end now. That never happens these days. I'm-" His heart breaks as a tear slides down the brunette girl's face. "I'm scared, Lysander."
Lorcan moves immediately to Lucy's side, and she buries her teary face into his shoulder. Eyes wide, Lysander asks, "Why are you scared?"
"She's been gone for longer than she ever has before," Lucy begins, letting Lorcan put his arm around her. "There's been no contact from her whatsoever. Usually, she at least owls us to let us know that she's safe, but now- nothing. Come on, Lysander, has she even texted you or whatever on those Muggle phones you usually use?"
Unconsciously, his hand moves to his pocket, and he pulls out the Muggle phone Molly had given him as a birthday present last year. Sliding the phone open to unlock it, he stares at the screen. No new messages. His head snaps up to meet her eyes. "No, she hasn't texted me. But-"
"Does she usually?" Lorcan cuts in, staring at him, the circles under his eyes noticeable too.
Sighing, he reluctantly nods. "Yeah. But that doesn't mean-"
"I'm scared, Lysander, because what if she doesn't come back?" Lucy's hollow voice echoes in the air around them, her chilling words cutting him to the bone.
His mission is made clear in that moment. He has to find Molly Weasley, and he has to do it fast.
Staring at her, he nods, walking up and hugging her. "Lucy, don't worry. I'm going to find her, and I'm going to bring her back. Just you see."
"I hope so," Lucy says, nodding her head and pulling away from him. The wet tearstains on her face are still there as she walks off with Lorcan, his arm around her back still. It sends a surge of jealousy through him- not that he likes Lucy or anything, but how come he gets his girl while Lysander doesn't?
Nodding, he peers over his notes:
Somewhere that can keep her stable, somewhere with lots of trees, somewhere where it's cold all of the time.
He bites back his doctor sense that pushes through, telling him that if she's gone somewhere cold, there's a high chance she's developed hypothermia or frostbite. Instead, he keeps walking, trying to get lost in the memories once again.
"Well, aren't they just the perfect couple?" Molly hisses bitterly as they walk past Lucy and Lorcan. The two of them are sitting on a couch, heads bent together, laughing.
"What's wrong with that, Molls?" Lysander asks, genuinely concerned. "Do you have a crush on my brother or something?"
Molly throws back her head in laughter. "Lorcan? As if. He's perfect with Lucy, remember? Just… sometimes I wish I could have a boyfriend like that. Someone who would never leave me and all of that. But I suppose people don't always get their happily ever afters, yeah?"
"I suppose not," Lysander agrees reluctantly, but his eyes meet hers for just a split second and he wonders if she's thinking the same thing he is. "But don't you have that? In me?"
"Do I?" She wonders absently, her hand travelling to the small of his back before her eyes meet his again. "I mean, I thought we were just trying this out. You've never said that you'll never leave me or anything. You've never even said that you love me. Is that a relationship that's steady, safe?"
"Do you really want a relationship that's steady and stable?" He asks, but then he sighs. "I love you, Molly, and I'll never leave you, ever, I promise. Does that work for you?"
Still a bit skeptical-looking, she slips her arms around him and rests her head on his chest. "I love you too."
(she doesn't say she'll never leave him though, and he sees that now)
"Feeling better now?" He inquires, softly stroking her red hair.
"You could say that," She shrugs, staring up at him. "Lysander, the next place I go on vacation, I want to go somewhere where a lot of fairy tales take place, you know? Go on a search for my happy ending or whatever. I think it would be an awfully fun vacation."
"You sure do talk about this vacation an awful lot," He teases, poking her in the stomach. "Are you leaving me, Molly dear?"
"Maybe, for a while," Molly tells him, shrugging. But then her blue-green eyes bear deep into his. "But you know I'll always come back to you, Lysander. Always."
He smiles at her, because at the time, he thinks that she can say no wrong and she never lies.
His eyes light up once again, and he pulls out his note pad, scribbling on it somewhere where lots of fairytales take place. Under it, at the bottom where only he can see it, he writes she says she'll always come back to me.
On a whim, he whips out his Muggle cellphone again and hits Speed Dial #1. As expected, though, the phone rings and rings, but no one answers. Her ringtone, a piano piece, is a bit freaky, so he hangs up after the tenth ring, feeling the urge to slam his phone down but not doing it.
Finally, under the bright sunlight, he begins to walk back home. His brother greets him at the door with a sad smile. "Find out anything?"
Shoving the list into Lorcan's open hands, he walks up the stairs and promptly collapses into bed. But he lies awake for nearly an hour, worrying about Molly.
What if she dies out there? He worries, trying not to think about it. What if she never comes back? What if I never fall in love again? What if I go searching, but I never find her? What if Lucy and Percy and Lorcan and Audrey all blame me? What if I never see her again, ever?
His worries overwhelm his mind, and though he tries to sleep, he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, which seems so vast to him now.
I miss you, Molly, he thinks finally before he dozes off.
He wakes up the next day hopefully, and bounds downstairs, hoping for good news. But Lucy, who has already situated herself at their kitchen table, just shakes her head of brown hair regretfully. "No word from Molly, Lysander. Looks like you'll have to go be her knight in shining armour. She's always wanted one of those."
Lorcan nods his head and beams at Lysander. "If you're going to go rescue her, it should be soon. I mean, we're sort of running low on time here. She's already been gone for two weeks."
"I know that," Lysander sighs, running a hand through his light brown hair. "But Lorcan, I know that I should go find her soon, but I don't know where. Funny thing, trying to find someone who could be anywhere in the world."
"But she's not anywhere in the world, and you know it!" Lorcan protests, tossing his scrap paper back at him, with all of his notes scribbled on it. "See this? It eliminates about half of the possible places in the world, brother. All you have to do is that weird memory thing and I'm sure you'll remember some more."
Lysander just shrugs. Glancing down at the piece of paper, he snatches it up from the table and walks outside. Walking down the path, he glances up at the sky, blue and filled with lots of clouds that the sun shines through. Of course, the sun shines. He truly believes that the sun shouldn't be shining without her there to make it shine.
At the corner of the road, he comes across a little bench with lots of memories behind it. His mind starts to race immediately.
The stars shine brightly overhead. Below, on a nice stone bench, sits two people, Lysander and Molly.
She threads her fingers through his, absentmindedly staring up at the stars. "Did you know that Dominique and Rose's crush, Scorpius, is named after a star?"
"Is he?" Lysander replies, staring up at the stars too. "You are too, Molly, though maybe not in the literal sense."
Molly blushes. "I suppose so. But Lysander, as much as I love her, it's hard being in her shadow all of the time, do you know what I mean?"
"No," Lysander replies bluntly. "I mean, I'm just a name pun, Lysander Scamander. I don't really know what it's like, since I'm named after no one."
Molly just sighs. "It's okay. It's just that everyone's always comparing me to my namesake. You act just like her, you talk just like her, my gosh, it's like little Molly Weasley the First! It gets tiring after a while, you know? I just want to be Molly, not Molly Weasley the First. I'm my own person, you know?" She stops, taking a while to breathe and stare up at the stars. "Sorry for dumping this all on you."
"It's no problem, really," Lysander replies quickly, because really, he's whipped. "I get your meaning. I get that too, though I suppose not as strong. People seem to think I'll be like my mum and chase after Nargles."
"Perhaps you should," Molly replies, grinning and catching a firefly in her bare hands. "Maybe one of these days people will realise that you're not little Luna and I'm not little Molly I."
He peers over her shoulder to see the firefly. "I love fireflies. And, yeah, I'm definitely not my mum, and you're not your grandma. I suppose it's one of those War Heroes' Children syndrome. Hopefully we won't all rebel and go downhill like a lot of children do."
"I doubt it," Molly grins over at Lysander. "I've got too much of my dad in me." Leaning back, she stares up at the stars again, casting a silence over the two of them. After a moment, she thoughtfully broke the silence. "Isn't it weird to think that all around the world, people see the same stars? Although the time zones probably mess that up, but still!"
"It is weird," Lysander agrees, grinning over at his girlfriend. "So even if you went somewhere else, you would still see the same stars as me. It would keep us connected."
"So it would," Molly muses, still staring at the stars like she's trying to make something out of them.
"You're not going anywhere, are you?" He asks, entirely too concerned about her well-being, because, well, you see, he's sort of in love with her or whatever.
She just looks over at him, grins, and squeezes his hand. "If I did go somewhere, Lysander, I would tell you. And I would go somewhere where I could see the stars, because then I'd know we would be connected."
"Then you could just look up at the sky and see me," He says, brushing back her hair like it's some cheesy movie.
Smiling, he leans in and kisses her. So yes, it's just like a cheesy movie.
The flashback ends, and so do his memories. But quickly, he grabs out the piece of paper he's been writing on.
A place where she can see the stars, and she can see me.
His plan becomes obvious. That night, he goes outside and pulls out a blanket. Laying on the blanket, he watches the stars go by.
Suddenly, someone joins him. He jerks his head around, hoping, praying, wishing it to be Molly, but no, it's only Dominique. She smiles grimly at him, tossing her blonde curls in the starlight. "Bet you wish that I was Molly, don't you? It's all right, I miss her too."
"I'm sorry," He sighs, leaning over to see her Veela face in the moonlight. Really, this should be romantic or something, but it's not, because all he can see is her, her, Molly Weasley II.
She shrugs, because it's not as if she likes him that way. Holding out her hand, she demands, "Let me see your list of things from your memories."
Holding it against his chest, he informs her, "That's private!"
She rolls her eyes. "Let me see it. Slytherins have more sense than Gryffindors, I'm sure. I bet I could work this out."
Reluctantly, he hands it over, eyes trained on the blonde girl (who was once upon a time his best friend, but then they just faded away) as she reads Lysander's scribbled handwriting. Finally, she looks up, meeting his eyes with the utmost of confidence. "She's on a mountain, I think. Well, really, I'm sure of it."
"How do you know?" Lysander panics, his head filling with images of Molly, stranded on a mountaintop.
"It's cold up there, obviously," Dominique begins, not looking quite as worried as Lysander. "And lots of fairytales take place there, you know. Not to mention you can see the stars up close, since you're so high up when you're on a mountain. And, you know, mountains usually have lots and lots of trees, pine trees and all."
Lysander's jaw drops. "Merlin, you're right. And if Molly's stranded on a mountain, oh Merlin, I have to go there as soon as possible. Do you know the sorts of complications she could get?"
"Seeing as I'm not a doctor, no," Dominique sighs, turning to look at him. "But I'm sure you'll get to her in time. I mean, you're Lysander Scamander. You have a knack for showing up at just the right time."
"Do I?" Lysander muses, still worried, running a hand through his hair in that nervous habit of his. "How could I get there though?"
Dominique grins at him as if he's stupid or something, which really, according to her, he is. "Apparition. You're a wizard, don't forget. It's quite easy."
"But how…. I don't know which mountain she's on!" He shrieks, still freaking despite her calm attitude.
"Has she ever talked to you about mountains, Lysander?" Dominique just shrugs. "Come on, do that freaky flashback thing of yours. I swear, you must have gotten it from your mom."
Lysander just rolls his eyes. "It's not quite that easy, Dom…"
"Why not?" Dominique grins at him in that Slytherin way of hers. "You're making this hard, Lysander, it doesn't have to be."
"What do you mean?" He asks desperately, frowning at her, because she's making no sense at all. At least, not in his mind.
"You're acting like it's hard to do it, Lysander," Dominique informs him, smiling widely like she knows what she's talking about. "It doesn't have to be, you know. Just get into those memories, you know, think only about your times with her. Maybe you'll remember something about mountains."
He just stares at her. "And how would you know, Dominique?"
She just smirks again, like the Slytherin that she is. "I wouldn't know, Lysander, but I'm sure you do. Anyway," she says, standing up. "I've got to go home, my parents don't like me staying outside too late. Don't know when I'll see you again, since you're going to find Molly. But yeah, see you!" Grinning, she stands up, not waiting for his answer.
Groaning, he stretches back out on the blanket, trying to reminisce. Finally, a memory pops back into his mind.
"Lysander," Molly whispers, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Have you ever wondered if people could move mountains?"
He turns around and smiles at her. "Molly, I don't know. Mountains, they're pretty big. D' you think that people can move mountains?"
"I don't know," She says with a small smile on her face. "I mean, humans have done plenty of other things, why not this too? Anyway, I just wanted to know because I really want to live on a mountain someday."
"Do you?" He asks, grinning at her. "Are you going to leave me and go live on a mountain?"
"Maybe," She allots a small smile at him. "I wonder life will take me now. I mean, mountains are pretty nice places to live."
"Why do you keep talking about leaving?" He wonders, frowning now. "I mean, I don't want you to leave."
"But Lysander," She sighs, staring at him. "If I want to leave, how are you going to hold me back?"
"I'm not," Lysander replies, staring at her. "I mean, if you want to leave, I can't hold you back. But you know that I don't want you to. Anyway," he says, quickly changing the subject, "if you were going to go to live on a mountain, which mountain would it be? I mean, I don't want you too far from me."
She just grins at him. "That's an easy one, Lysander. I would go to Cauldron Mountain. Then you could come and see me all the time. That would be okay, right, Lysander?"
"I suppose so," Lysander shrugs. "But I still don't want you to leave. I want you to stay with me."
She stares at him, unmoving, unblinking for a second. Then, her hand reaches out and brushes his face softly. Her eyes bear into his. "Lysander, I don't know what you're talking about, I'll never leave you. I might stay away for a while, but I'll always be here." She pokes his heart, grinning at him.
"I love you," He whispers, wondering if it's enough.
"I love you too," She tells him, but there's something in her eyes that's a bit restless and he fears it.
He doesn't let himself cry at one of the most painful memories that he's brought up so far. In fact, he just blinks rapidly and pulls out his piece of paper and scribbles down Cauldron Mountain. He knows that she's there, in fact, there's no uncertainty in his mind. Whipping out his Muggle cellphone again, he doesn't flinch at the No New Messages alert on the screen. Instead, he heads to his fourth speed dial and calls quickly. The phone rings… and rings… and rings. Finally, someone picks up. "Hello?"
"LUCY," He yells into the phone.
"Yes, hello, Lysander," She replies, not seeming bothered by his loudness. "Mind not blowing my ears off?"
"Sorry, "He apologises quickly, but he then barrels on. "LUCY. I know where she is. I know where MOLLY is."
Her resounding shriek nearly blows his ears off. "You did? OH, LYSANDER! Where is she? Where is she?"
Holding the phone away from his ear at a reasonable distance, he just laughs. "Lucy dear, she's at Cauldron Mountain. CAULDRON MOUNTAIN! Do you know how cold it is there right now? It's freezing, and MERLIN, I have to get up there, or she's going to freeze to death…"
"Calm down, Lysander," Lucy comforts him, sounding as if she is going to laugh. How can she even think about laughter at a time like this? Lysander thinks furiously, as if she's betrayed him or something. Lucy continues, "Cauldron Mountain is so close. Don't you think she would have had a plan, had she been going there?"
"No," Lysander says stubbornly, crossing his arms though he knows she can't see. "I know she's in danger, Lucy. I can feel it. It's as if we have a connection or something."
"Uh huh, the girl and her boyfriend connection," Lucy replies, amused. "Well, you can't very well go now. It's nearly 1 AM, you know. "
"Who cares?" Lysander bursts out.
"You need some rest if you're going to go climb a mountain," Lucy reminds him, still amused.
"I'll get some rest while I'm climbing," he protests, though he really doesn't have a plan or anything of the like. "You know, I'll climb up a little, take a rest, climb some more."
"Lysander," Lucy says in her scolding, motherly tone, sounding just like Victoire. "Go to sleep, get some rest, go to find Molly in the morning. That is, if she's actually there."
"I'm sure she is," He replies confidently.
"All right," Lucy replies doubtfully. "Well, you'd better get some sleep, and I'd better too. See you sometime, though probably not soon, seeing how you're going to go hiking tomorrow."
"I am," He confirms, sounding so optimistic that he's sure she can hear his optimism even through the phone. "Well, I'll see you later, all right? And I'll be there with Molly right beside me, you'll see."
"Sure, Lysander," Lucy replies dubiously. "Goodbye, my brother."
"Bye, sister!" He calls, since Lucy is like the sister he's never had (and yeah, they're going to be brother and sister in law when he marries Molly and Lucy marries Lorcan).
The phone line goes dead, and he sits there for a second, clutching the phone in his hand and silently hoping that the phone will ring. He hopes, sort of, that Molly will call, saying she's coming back tomorrow and everything will be just fine. Though he'd been sorted into Gryffindor all that time ago, he's never really thought himself the stereotypical Gryffindor. He's not too brave, if he's honest with himself, and he's never really been one for adventure. Not to mention he's not the hero type at all. He's never been good at rescuing people.
But, shoving his phone into his pocket, he picks himself up off of the ground, wiping droplets off of his pants. His phone buzzes once inside of his pocket. Excited, he whips it out, only to be disappointed once again when it says New Message from Lucy Weasley.
Lucy: Dad's really mad this time, brother. You'd better have found her, or I don't know what Dad's going to do. I mean, good luck and everything though, of course.
Sighing, he shoves it back in and begins to walk the lonely path all the way back to his house.
Once he gets home, he climbs into his bed, and though he's always been the type to go straight to sleep, he can't sleep now. His head is filled with visions of mountaintops and dew and Molly, Molly, Molly. It's always been her, hasn't it?
Finally, he manages to drift off, and even his unconscious brain is filled with visions of her. But they're not the type one typically enjoys, much to his displeasure.
He's climbing a mountain. Around him, cold air swirls, causing him to shiver- or is it really shivering? Everywhere he looks, all he sees is white, black, and grey- white snow on the ground (a clean sheet of it), black trees that look as if they've been burnt down or something of the sort, grey skies that loom forebodingly over the horizon. All in all, it's not a pretty scene- a bit creepy, in fact. He feels as if he wants to get out of there, but no, he has to keep climbing, because this is where Molly is.
Something cracks behind him. He jumps out of the way, narrowly avoiding a tree trunk crushing him. Yelping, he walks over near the trees with the thicker, more stable trunks.
The road is long and terribly snowy. He can't see through the snow that falls into his eyes. Blinking, he tells himself why he has to keep going.
Suddenly, he sees a body up ahead, lying in the snow and almost completely encased by it. He screams, starting to try to run to it, but it feels as if there's something holding her back. Shouting her name (MOLLY! MOLLY!), as if it will do any good, he keeps running, trying to break through the invisible wall that's holding him back.
Finally, he sighs and lets himself collapse in the snow, telling himself that it's probably not Molly. So why is he worrying so much? Then, he catches sight of a red curl splayed in the snow, and he screams.
Jumping quickly to his feet, he begins to run again, trying to break through the penetrable wall. Nothing seems to be working, so he just pushes harder, harder, harder, because he's a Gryffindor and he never gives up. Snow falls in front of him still.
Then, finally, the wall vanishes and he tumbles into the snow. To his surprise, it's not as cold as he would have thought. But still, he jumps to his feet and runs to the body.
It's her definitely, he knows as soon as he sees her, though for some reason her face is blurred. Her features are exactly the same as he remembers, down to the ink smudge on her right cheek, and the blemish that's usually covered up by makeup. Leaning down, he wipes the layers of snow off her face, whispering her name over and over. "Molly. Molly. Wake up."
The girl doesn't stir, despite his constant effort to get her to wake. Panicking, he places his hand on her heart, feeling for a heartbeat. When he finds one, he checks for breath. There is no breath coming from her mouth. Screaming, he realises that she is, in fact, dead and probably has been for a while.
No one is around to hear his loud screams. No one is around to witness his painful cries.
Leaning down, he plants a kiss on her frozen lips, and is surprised when he can't feel them. That's when he realises that it must be a dream…
Sobbing and breathing heavily, he awakes from the dream, constantly reminding himself that it's just a dream and it doesn't mean anything. He pushes himself up, checking the clock, which declares it to be 8:00, a reasonable time to be awake.
Quickly, he pulls on some clothes that he supposes are suitable for hiking up a mountain, then grabs a backpack that he stuffs with all of the things he'll need for around a week, along with blankets that he could use for Molly if she's got hypothermia and plenty of water. He then imagines his mum and dad's house, sprawling in all of its glory, and when he opens his eyes he's there.
"Mum!" He exclaims, rushing to her and wrapping his arms around her.
"Lysander!" Luna Lovegood exclaims, looking her son up and down. "Didn't expect to see you around here for a while. Your brother maybe, but not you. What are you doing here?"
It may sound rude to some people, but it's so typical of his Mum that it doesn't surprise Lysander. Instead, he just laughs. "You've heard that Molly Weasley the Second has disappeared, haven't you, Mum?"
"She has?" Luna Lovegood exclaims, surprised. "You didn't tell me, Lysander!"
"You're quite out of it, Mum," Lysander laughs, and it sounds foreign even to his own ears. "Anyway, I'm sure she's gone and gotten herself stranded up on some mountaintop, and she's gotten hypothermia, so I'm going to save her!"
"Always the adventurer, aren't you?" Luna chuckles, smiling at her son. "Just like your father. Anyway, how do you know she's stranded there? It could be the Nargles messing with your head. They're known to trick people, you know, Lysander. Don't put yourself in any unnecessary danger."
"Fine, Mum," He agrees. "This danger is totally necessary. Just one quick question before I go and all- what's the fastest way to get to Cauldron Mountain?"
"Apparition, of course," She replies, as if it's the easiest thing in the world and the most obvious too.
He rolls his eyes. "But Mum, how do you Apparate if you have no idea what the place looks like?"
She shoves a picture of the mountain into his face. He doesn't know where the picture came from, but oh well, it's his Mum, and she has all sorts of crazy ways of obtaining things. He studies the picture, almost every detail because he has to get this right, and then he closes his blue eyes, thinking of a place that looks just like the one in the picture. He uses all of his determination that he's going to get there and then he's just swirling away.
Once he gets there, he lands face first, but not in a mound of snow like he'd expected. In fact, though there seems to be piles of snow around, the ground is dry. Of course, the air is still cold (certainly cold enough to give a person hypothermia, he deduces), and the forest is still dark, since the rays of sun have not passed over the tips of the trees yet.
Glancing around, he's a bit disappointed to find no immediate sign of Molly. But hey, he'd never expected it to be that easy. Sighing, he begins to trudge up the hill, having all of his energy at the moment, but still a bit discouraged already.
His feet move in a sort of rhythm- left, right, left, right- it sort of forms a song in his empty mind. Molly, Weasley, Molly, Weasley. His main motivation, and basically his only motivation, for climbing this mountain.
Every step he takes, his eyes search the section of mountain, and there seems to be nothing around in this area. Every step he takes, he becomes this much more discouraged. Every step he takes, he considers going back and telling them that he couldn't find her a little bit more.
The mountain seems to stretch for miles in front of him, and he has no idea how he's going to find her. Step, step, step, he continues to walk, not allowing himself to dwell on the negative thoughts that form in his mind.
Finally, he feels like it's about time for him to settle down for a walk. Though it's only been a few hours, he feels like he's been walking (and walking, and walking…) forever. Tossing his bag to the ground, he starts to sit down when he catches a flash of something white.
Curiously, he walks over to the thing, picking it up in his large hand and turning it over and over. He discovers it's a white flower petal. A white flower petal…? His mind immediately turns back into the flashback mode that he has discovered to be a good thing.
Molly walks up to him one day when their families meet at the beach, big smile plastered upon her face. Behind her ear, he realises that she's placed a beautiful white flower. She beams at him. "Lysander, how do you like my decoration?"
"Decoration?" He laughs, reaching out and touching it, brushing it softly with his fingertips. "It's beautiful, Molly, and it looks so good with your hair."
"Thank you," She says, blushing and smiling at him. "I love white flowers, did you know? I think they're quite innocent and beautiful. They remind me of times past… in fact, they remind me of me and you, in a way?"
"How so?" He wonders, confused and amused.
"Well," She says, blushing on both cheeks, since she's not usually the one to say sort of romantic things, "We work kind of perfectly together that it's so… flawless. Sorry if that sounds cheesy or whatever. Not to mention you're sort of beautiful."
"Is that meant to be an insult?" He teases, smirking at her. "I mean, you think I look like a girl?"
Her blush deepens, proving her relation to the Weasley family. "No, Lysander! I mean that you look good. You know, sort of flawless in your own way."
"You are too," Lysander tells her, smiling. "You're beautiful, though, you know that. Just like those flowers, except possibly more beautiful."
"We're being very cheesy," Molly grins at him. "But yay for our flower?"
"Yay for our flower," He continues, smiling and pulling her to him before securing his lips onto hers.
Sighing, he turns the white flower petal over once again in his hand, wondering whether Molly could have left this for him. He decides that maybe, just maybe, she would have remembered that conversation (those happy times) and left him a trail. In fact, it seems like such a Molly thing to do.
And if she didn't leave it, what's the worst thing that could happen? He already has no idea where she is. He can't get any worse off than he already is.
So, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he begins to hike up the hill, thinking positive thoughts. Every step, he thinks, he could be getting closer to where Molly is. With every step, he continues to think, and think, and think.
Then the trail of white flower petals ends. At the end, he finds a pile of flower petals. Looking up, he sees her pale body, splayed out on the ground as if she's dead.
His mind shuts down for a second just like that, because really, his existence revolves around hers. NO, NO, NO, he pleads internally, having temporarily lost the ability to speak. He rushes to her side and takes her hand in his.
To his intense relief, it's still warm, and he screams THANK YOU! in his mind. He examines her face- the smudge of dirt on her face is gone now, but it's been replaced with purple bruises. The remaining amount of skin is pale, streaked with some red. Leaning down to her ear, he whispers, "Molly, dear, are you awake?"
He nearly yelps in relief as her eyelids flutter open slowly. Her eyes search him, then her mouth drops open. She stutters, "Ly… Ly… Lysander? Is that… that is… you?"
"It's me, Molly," he whispers softly, hovering just above her face, taking in every detail. He wants to take her into his arms and scoop her up. "It's me."
Slowly, she pulls him into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms around his back. Tears start to fall down her face, staining his shirt. Teeth chattering, she says, "Ly… Lysander, I'm c-c-cold. Can we g… go away?"
"Of course, Molly," He mutters, scooping the lightweight girl up into his arms. Snatching a blanket out of his bag, he drapes it over her before snuggling her in tighter.
Glancing down at her quickly, he discovers he was right. The stuttering she's been doing along with the way her teeth are chattering are both telltale signs. The blanket, he notices, is helping her greatly, but he knows he has to get her quickly to a medical hospital where he'll have access to more supplies. Kissing her forehead softly, he pictures the hospital where he works.
Soon, the hospital comes into sight. Quickly, he rushes into the lobby where his receptionist, Tracy Thomas, works. Seeing him, she says, "Oh, hello, Mr. Scamander! What do you need today, sir? You're scheduled to be off of training, aren't you?"
"I am supposed to be," He replies, gritting his teeth. "But do you see this? I NEED A ROOM, LIKE NOW. THIS IS MY GIRLFRIEND AND SHE HAS HYPOTHERMIA. SHE CAN'T DIE, TRACY. SHE JUST CAN'T."
Tracy's eyes widen quickly. Taking him by the arm, she leads him into a room. A bunch of doctors, including him, get to work on her, first checking her pulse.
"It's very low, Trainee Scamander," His colleague and friend, Healer Patil, tells him. "But I'm sure that we can save her. I know it."
"Yes, we can!" Lysander repeats, quickly attaching an IV to her to add fluids. They cover her in blanket after blanket, drying her off, before the doctors get to work with their healing magic. Spell after spell is cast as Molly lies there, her pulse gradually getting higher and higher. Then, Healer Patil rushes in with a last potion.
"Here!" She cries, shoving it into Lysander's hand. "If this doesn't work, nothing will."
Carefully, he pours the potion into Molly's mouth. At first, the girl shows no response to the potion, but then her pale skin begins to regain colour. All of the healers and trainees join him as they stand around her and watch her wake. Finally, Molly's blue-green eyes open once again. "Lysander?" She asks with a small yawn.
"Molly," He says in relief, sinking to the floor. "Molly, you're alive."
"Obviously," She replies in true Molly fashion before glancing about the room. "Where am I, Lysander? It looks as if I'm in the hospital."
"You are," Lysander replies, taking one of her still cold and limp hands in his and threading his fingers through hers. "You're in the hospital, Molly. You climbed the mountain-well, should I say, attempted to climb the mountain- and you contracted hypothermia, just as I always warned you that you would. But what I don't understand is why? Why did you try to climb the mountain in the first place?"
As if she's a small child, Molly's bottom lip wobbles as it always does when she's sad. "All right, you're going to think I'm stupid or something, incompetent, you know. But I sort of heard about Lucy's magical world of Narnia, and Victoire and Louis', and how they all got to go there- you heard, Lucy met a cute guy there named Edmund. I was so jealous. I wanted a magical world, an escape from the everyday, and I'd heard the stories about a magical world at the top of the mountain. So I decided I was going to climb to the top. I didn't count on it being so c- c- cold."
He sighs, leaning down and kissing her forehead again, though it means so much more now that she's fully conscious. "I could never think you're stupid, Molly, or incompetent. But why do you need a magical world, Molly? You had me. You have me."
"That's what I realised, Lysander, up there on that mountain," The dreamer Molly says, looking him straight in the eyes. "I realised that yeah, I'm sure I'm in love with you, and… yeah, you were all I ever needed for a magical world anyway."
His eyes fill with tears of relief, happiness, and all of those pent-up emotions from over the past few days, and he wants to say something, but he doesn't know what. But then they burst off and wheel Molly away for more tests.
Sighing, he sinks onto one of the plastic benches. Healer Patil comes and sits down beside him, smiling from ear to ear. "Well, Lysander, it looks like you're a hero now. You've saved your girlfriend's life."
"Am I?" Lysander asks quietly, playing with the concept. "I sure don't feel like it, you know."
The next day, Molly's room is open for visitors (he sleeps there overnight, no way is he leaving her side). As soon as the sun comes up, Lucy, Lorcan, and Dominique are there, along with Percy and Audrey, eager to see the young girl.
Throwing open her curtains, Lysander informs her, "You have quite a lot of visitors today, Molly, my dear."
"Do I?" She replies absently, grinning at Lysander. She still seems to be getting used to the fact that Lysander's here and he's getting used to that same fact. "Well, don't just stand there, Lysander, let them in."
"You don't want to spend some alone time with your devilishly handsome boyfriend?" Lysander inquires, grinning at her.
"We have forever," Molly tells him in a serious tone. Then, after what seems like some careful deliberation, she says, "And thanks for saving my life, Lysander. You're the most amazing boyfriend a girl could ever ask for, and I love you."
"I love you too," he stammers, but then the door flies open and a big flood of Weasleys rush in, running over to the redhead in the bed.
Before Dominique goes over to the bed, she shoots him a quick wink and a smile. "Suppose you were a hero after all, little boy, weren't you? I knew it."
"Sure you did," Lysander calls up to her. Then his arms are full of little Lucy Weasley, who's positively beaming at him.
"YOU FOUND HER, LYSANDER, YOU REALLY DID!" She shrieks, excitement apparent on her face. "I HAD MY DOUBTS, BUT YOU FOUND HER AND YOU BROUGHT HER BACK!" Then she skips away, back to Molly, a huge smile on her face.
Percy Weasley is the next to approach him, not looking half as enthusiastic as Lucy had been. Without showing any sort of emotion (emotionless), he says hurriedly, "So I suppose I should thank you for bringing back my little girl. So thank you. I suppose you're not quite as bad as I thought. And you can continue to hang around her. I won't object."
"Thank you, sir," Lysander replies politely, since he's never been the type to speak rudely to adults.
Then he meets Molly's eyes and grins at her. To him, it feels like everything's fallen into place, finally.
She gets out of the hospital two weeks later, to his intense euphoria. Immediately, he goes to her house to talk with her. Sitting across for her, he asks, "Going to go searching for your imaginary world again anytime soon?"
She laughs, a laugh that reminds him of tinkling bells. Shaking her head, she declares, "Definitely not. But I do have a question for you, my darling Lysander. How did you find me? I mean, I never told you I was leaving or anything, and I definitely don't remember telling you where I was going…"
"An elephant never forgets, my dear Molly," He quips, his mouth trembling in laughter. "You see, I remembered all of these past conversations with you about where you were going and all, so I went back on those to try and see if I could find you."
"And you did," She replies dubiously.
"I found you," He declares proudly. Removing the piece of paper that's all scribbled on, wrinkled, crumpled up and stained, he tosses it to her. "These are the major hints I remembered that helped me to figure out where you were going."
Unfolding the note, she reads, "Somewhere that's always cold… somewhere with lots of trees… somewhere where lots of fairytales take place… somewhere where she can be stable… you remembered all of this, Lysander? I can't believe how much you remember about me, it's endearing, to tell you the truth."
Grinning, he places a kiss on her forehead. "Of course I remember all of that, I'm sort of in love with you or whatever, remember? Anyway, I didn't really piece it all together, Dominique did. It was more of a suspicion or anything, we didn't know if you would actually be there. But hey, it's you- I wasn't about to leave any trail unsearched, now was I?"
She laughs in that way that means that she's entirely, blissfully happy. "You're unbelievable, Lysander, but in a good way. You're like one of those storybook heroes, you know? And I've always been searching for one of them."
"Now you've found yours, then," Lysander grins at her. He decides he can't resist anymore, and he leans in, cutting off the gap in between the two of them and kissing her on the lips for the first time since before she disappeared. It's just as he remembers, jam-packed with sparks and all that gooey stuff.
Breathing heavily, she pulls away from Lysander, happy smile also upon her face. "I suppose I have, haven't I?" Her eyes are bright like he remembers.
Taking her hand in his, he asks her quietly, "But are you just going to leave me again, going to chase off something far in the distance? Because, Molly, if you leave again, I don't think I can take it this time."
"I'm not going to leave," Molly confirms stubbornly in a confident voice. "I'm done with the Molly that just leaves and gives up all of the time. I'm a Gryffindor, and gosh, I'm stronger than that. Gryffindors persevere, right? Which means, Lysander, that I'm not leaving you again. It will be you and me forever, right?"
His blue eyes grow wide with emotion and love. Staring at her, he nods his head, smiling because he's still so whipped. "Forever, Molly. Me and you forever."
Stepping in, Lucy grins at the two of them. "Sorry to interrupt on a touching moment or whatever this is, but Dad's gone and made a cake, and he wants you two to come try it. Act like you like it, all right? He's proud of it, but it tastes like a horse shoe."
Lysander just laughs, standing up. Molly follows suit, not removing her hand from hers, and hand-in-hand they walk to the kitchen to eat some of the horse shoe cake or whatever.
Before, the future had seemed so dark to both of them.
Lysander knew that Molly was going to leave him at some point or another, and Molly was so uncertain about the future that she left, trying to find her own way. But they both discovered that this path- this way of living- didn't exactly work out for either of them. They needed each other, in fact, they probably always had needed each other. And they still do need each other.
(because he's Lysander, and she's Molly, and by nature they're both naturally needy)
Their futures are so intertwined that it's not even funny, so they're never separated for a long length of time. Now that Molly knows what it's like to leave, she doesn't try it any more, not even when they have a row or whatever. Because it's going to be Molly and Lysander forever.
Especially since Molly's dad doesn't hate Lysander so much anymore, ever since he rescued her from near death.
The days pass by, and they stick together like glue and paper. He moves on, gets his degree from medical school (of course), and becomes a prominent Healer in St. Mungo's. He often deals with patients with hypothermia. However, he tries harder than anything not to let the memories get to him, even though they still do sometimes.
On the other hand, Molly becomes a renowned writer, well known all over the world. Rather than trying to forget about her brief brush with hypothermia, she uses it as inspiration, and publishes a book on a boy who's trying to rescue his girlfriend before she dies. It becomes a worldwide bestseller in the wizarding world.
But through all of this, through thick and thin, they stay together.
Since, y'know, he's Lysander, and she's Molly, and they sort of need each other, don't they?
And in the end, he found her.
A/N: Terrible, I know, I'm sorry ;(
But hey, this was for my NextGen Fanatics Forum, since we've had SOSO many people go on hiatus and gah, we need some cheering up.
It had a happy ending ;)
ANOTHER 10K. AND NOT EVEN ANOTHER SHIP. ANOTHER MOLLYSANDER.
I feel I am too obsessed with this pairing.
READ & REVIEW! NOW!