to be absolute

Lucy & Molly sisterhood, Molly/Lysander, non-linear timeline


is this all we get to be absolute
absolute, the fray


Everyone knows that clichés never last.


She's bent over the grave, tears staining the blades of grass. She has spent the majority of her days recently trying to forget, trying to pretend that none of it ever happened, that the gravestone does not bear the name that it does. But when she opens her eyes again, the name stares back at her.

Reaching out, she presses her dirty (stained) fingertips to the gravestone, rubbing her fingers along the cold stone. Once again, she reminds herself that if they'd never gone to the lake, if she'd never suggested it, this wouldn't have happened.

Molly Weasley never takes the blame, but now, she's only blaming herself.

She figures that if the person could see her now, they would be quite proud.

Her fingers tremble as her icy heart finally begins to melt inside of her chest. She supposes that all that will be left will be just a big black hole, sucking up all that's left of her soul.

Maybe then she'll be numb. Numbness beats pain any day, right?

{Sometimes she forgets that avoiding the problem doesn't necessarily solve it.}

Jerking the hood of her emerald cloak over her sunset curls, she dashes away from the grave, images flashing through her mind. The hole inside of her threatens to suck her in, to bring her down with it.

She doesn't refuse.


They sort of complement each other.

It's the perfect mixture of fire and ice and water. There's Molly and Lysander, then there's also Lucy and Lorcan. It works perfectly- sisters and brothers, basically one big family. Molly is happy and Lucy is happy so it just works.

There are times when Molly considers that maybe it won't work. There are times when it seems too perfect, like a fairytale out of one of Lucy's storybooks. But if there's anything that Molly is good at, it's avoiding the truth. She supposes that's why the {idiotic, brainless} Sorting Hat tossed her into Slytherin.

Once upon a time, everything is perfect.

She should've realised that things never stay that way.


The boy with the sky blue eyes asks her to sit with him. She does not know his name, but the red and gold scarf tied around his neck tells her what he is- a Gryffindor, her House's sworn enemy.

She sits down beside him.

The boy is Lysander Scamander.


Sometimes, she notices things.

She notices the way that Lysander looks at her, as if he can see right through her. She notices the way that Lorcan Scamander, Lysander's twin, holds hands with Lucy as they walk down the corridor together. She notices that Lucy and Lorcan are just maybe falling for each other, and maybe Lysander is falling for her, but she does not fall. She does not do love or commitment.

But she thinks she loves her sister (in a platonic way, of course). Lucy is bubby and sweet and peaceful, like the stream outside. She makes Molly feel warm and loved inside.

Molly thinks this is real love, not the sappy stuff of Muggle romance movies.


Sometimes she thinks that Lysander is fire and Lucy is water. With them, she has a perfect balance.


The dead girl's footprints are still sealed into the mud by the lake.

Her body has long since been removed, and the rock destroyed (shattered) for good measure. But the footprints still linger there, laden with memories and promises long forgotten. For a moment, she wishes that the footprints would just go away, like the girl who left them there.


It is Molly who suggests they go to the lake.

She exclaims of the peace and tranquility of the lake, of the way the water ripples if you just toss in a stone. Even though she is a Slytherin and she should be above such trivial things, it is of the highest interest to her. Eventually, the rest of them agree with her.

She skips outside, the sunlight beating down on her back, in a flurry of green and silver.

The others watch her in bemusement, wondering if this is really Molly, the cynical girl that they all know. It can't be, but it is.

Once they get there, they all throw in stones, splashes resulting in laughter. Lysander cries 'make a wish!' as he tosses in a stone, his other arm wrapped firmly around Molly's waist.

She wishes to freeze time. For at that moment, they are happy. They are absolute.

Then there is a splash, a big splash, unlike the small splashes that the stones and pebbles make. After the splash comes a crack and the sound of suffocation, a horrible noise that Molly wishes to forget.

She doesn't know who's fallen in, but there is no time to look. Her body hits the water as soon as she registers what must be going on and she's swimming as fast as she can. Once her hand comes to rest upon something warm and smooth, she grabs it, finding it to be an arm. Draping the figure over her shoulders, she swims up, wet and out of breath.

Blood coats her hands, arms, clothes. It is wet and sticky and it is everywhere. She knows that this cannot be a good sign.

Then she sees the face of the wounded- it is her sister, Lucy. The sweet one, the one who does not deserve this.

One look and she knows that the amount of blood is far too much. There is no way that she will be able to save her sister.

But she sits beside her sister anyway, tears running down her face as she slides her arm around her and sings to her, lullabies of Narnia and of dreams that always come true. Lucy is a dreamer and Molly knows it.

She sings until Lucy's breathing finally comes to a stop, and then she cries even more.

Lucy Weasley looks as if she's asleep. Molly knows that's not true.

Just like that, her ideas of a twisted happily-ever-after (with Lucy and Lorcan, and then Molly and Lysander) shatters into a thousand little pieces.

She should've seen it coming, anyway.


Sometimes, she thinks that Lorcan knew Lucy better than she did.

Sometimes, she wonders if Lysander knows her on the same level.


Molly sees that Lucy and Lorcan have a complicated relationship.

One day, Lucy's head is on his shoulder and she's smiling. The next, the two of them are arguing over the existence of Narnia and Nargles.

"Narnia exists," Lucy claims. "Do you have no imagination?"

"More than you," Lorcan protests. "I believe in Nargles and you think that they're absolute…"

"Rubbish," Lucy finishes with a smile. "I've been to Narnia, Lorcan."

He shrugs. "I've seen Nargles. What's your point?"

"I don't know," she laughs, and then he is kissing her like he will never be able to kiss her again. Disgusted and not wanting to see her sister make out with Lorcan, Molly turns her head back, picking her quill back up off the ground. She turns to another page in her Muggle notebook (supplied by Rose) and thinks of what to write. But her quill hasn't even touched the paper when Lysander comes over to her.

"Spying on Lucy and Lorcan again, are you?" he asks wryly, seeming to be amused. His hand comes to rest on her arm.

"No," she lies, but a blush stains her cheeks. "I- I just… I don't understand their relationship. Why do they fight and then kiss?"

"We fight," he points out.

"We're not together," she replies, but as his gaze falls upon her, she has to wonder.

"Right," he shifts uncomfortably. "Because you're Slytherin and I'm Gryffindor and sometimes things just don't work out… you've explained this to me before. I remember."

"Have I?" she asks with a smile, but then she laughs evilly in that Slytherin way of hers and takes his hand in hers.

Sometimes, she thinks that her life is perfect. Lucy has Lorcan and Molly has Lysander, not to mention they all have each other (though Molly often fights with Lorcan, but that's quite normal and they do care about each other somewhere deep down inside).

As she squeezes Lysander's hand, the cynical side of her wonders what terrible event could break this.

She doesn't even consider something as dark as death. She's not naïve, nor is she innocent, but she just does not think that it could ever happen to them.

For one of the first times in her life, Molly Weasley is wrong.


Most of the time, Lucy is the dreamer to balance out Molly's cynical nature.

While Lucy is an optimist, Molly is a pessimist. Lucy seeks out the good in everyone and Molly believes they are certainly out to get her. It is as if Lucy is a ray of sunshine while Molly is the bolt of lightning. Instead of lighting up the world like Lucy, Molly's intent is only to destroy and burn everything she can, though she's hardly fiery. Her icy demeanor is the only thing that keeps her from blending in with a simple bolt of lightning.

Together, they are the sisters that are opposite- the ones that balance each other out. Even if they are not Slytherin and Gryffindor.


It takes a few weeks before she can work up the nerve to even set foot in Lucy's room.

The room is spacious, painted in soft tones of pink and baby blue with undertones of bronze, showing that she's Ravenclaw through and through. Tears well up in her eyes, because the room screams of Lucy- dreamer girl- and no matter where she looks, she can't get away from the truth.

Not to mention, everyone knows that she's always been a coward. And she's been trying so hard to pretend, to act like Lucy's still with them, lurking in the corners. While she may still be with them in spirit, it hits Molly then that her physical being no longer walks the earth.

Wiping telltale tears from her eyes (the same as Lucy's, LucyLucyLucy), she makes her way over to the corner of the room. Lucy's prized possession is placed there- her Narnia mirror.

The edging around the mirror is bronze, and the regal look of it reminds Molly of Narnia and Lucy (because if anyone could be royalty, Lucy would be perfect for the job). Her fingers trail down the smooth glass, but she's careful not to smudge it. There is no way she wants to smudge something this beautiful.

Once she withdraws her fingertips, she's surprised to see someone appear slowly in the mirror beside her. It's a girl, all brown curls and blue eyes, a crown atop her head. At first, she's certain of who it is.

All that slips out of her mouth, though, is, "Lucy…?"

Then she turns quickly, as if the spirit of her lost sister will be hovering behind her. When there's no one there, she considers that maybe Lucy Weasley has not been harbouring a portal to Narnia, but instead the Mirror of Erised- she's sure that what she desires most in that moment is her sister back.

But when she turns back to the mirror, all she can see is herself- her tearstained cheeks, her sunset curls- and she starts to think that maybe she's going a little insane.

In her unreasonable anger, she feels like breaking the mirror, but she knows that something so beautiful should be preserved. So instead, she takes the next closest thing.

The Narnia books rest on Lucy's shelf- all in pristine condition, all in order, from The Magician's Nephew to The Last Battle- and they bother her. Dreams don't come true, she thinks bitterly as she pulls them off, smiling in a satisfied sort of way as they clutter to the ground. Pages are ruffled and torn, some of the pages ripped off out of their spines. She knows that Lucy would hate her for this- Lucy'd always had a certain obsession with books- but she's not here anymore, Molly thinks, so it's all right.

Giving the dirtied books (destroyed dreams) one last glance, she claps her hands and walks out of the room, not bothering to clean up, not caring if her parents see.

(She's always been a bit of a rebel.)


She wonders what life would be like if she'd been able to save her sister.


The day is warm. Lucy is leaning against a tree on the grounds of Hogwarts, book barely brushing the tips of her knees. Molly knows which book it is before her eyes catch sight of the lamppost on the front cover of it.

Sighing, she turns to Lysander. "Ly, Lucy's dreaming again."

"And that's a bad thing?" Lysander wonders with a bit of a smile (being much less cynical than Molly).

"Yes," Molly sits up rapidly, orange curls flying into her eyes. "You'll only be disappointed if you dream, because usually, you never get what you want when you dream. Like Lucy. She'll only disappoint herself, seeing as she can never go to Narnia. And she'll end up hurting Lorcan, too."

Lysander looks over to her, raising an eyebrow. In a calm voice (he only goes off when he's really upset), he tells her simply, "I think she's converting Lorcan to believing in Narnia, as well."

Confused, Molly glances over at Lucy. Once again, Lorcan's slumped down beside Lucy. He is holding the Narnia book now. Beside him, Lucy is pointing out parts of the book to him, her face lit up in a brilliant smile. He looks equally as entertained and happy.

Molly's face twists into a scowl. "Your brother is an idiot."

"I know," Lysander replies, but then his face softens and he's giving her that look, the one where he can see straight to her very soul. He looks as if he's mustering up all of his Gryffindor courage, and then his voice comes out, confident as it is normally. "Molly, this might be a bit random- but would you consider being my girlfriend?"

She does not melt into his arms. She does not squeal, jump up, or twirl in happiness. But what she does do instead is break into an ear-splitting smile and nod. "Do you even need to ask?"

Then he kisses her and it's blissful.

(She thinks that life cannot get any better.)


Once upon a time, she falls in love.

Later, she just falls to pieces- tiny little pieces marked by her sister's distinct scent, still whole, though, because Lysander hasn't yet broken her.

Love has never tasted so bittersweet.

(She's always been a bit of a contradiction, especially when it comes to family and him.)


The pieces finally break apart at the funeral.

It's awful, seeing her sister's glassy blue eyes staring up at her. Hoping that nobody sees her, she quickly closes them, fooling herself that Lucy's only sleeping now. It's still a terrible sight- the dreamer, once so full of life, lying in the coffin, arms folded across her chest, unmoving, not breathing. It makes her want to run right then. But for Lucy and for Lysander, who's counting on her, she stays.

They'd asked her to speak. But she wouldn't know what to say. She was a lovely person? She was so full of life, and somehow, through a cruel twist of fate, that life was drained from her? She'd just shook her head and refused.

So she sits in the audience, listening to countless stories of Lucy's dreamer qualities and kindness to every single person she'd ever met. But it's the last person who surprises her the most.

Lorcan Scamander steps up, grey eyes shining. Molly glances up at him, surprised that he could even speak- Lucy was his true love. But he just clears his throat and begins.

"Lucy. Lucy was… she was lovely. I loved her. I-I'd… I've never met anyone so full of life and dreams. She had her whole life planned out, and it's cruel that she should never get to live it out. I suppose Fate is just cruel that way," he laughs harshly. "She had me believing in Narnia. Her tales were so rich and deep. Most of her life was spent living- going to Narnia and planning and just believing and loving everyone that she met. I could not point out one particular memory with Lucy that I enjoyed, because I enjoyed every moment with her so, so much. I miss her like… like you wouldn't even understand. She was a part of me, the soft side that I never expected. She'd tease me about Nargles and I'd- I'd tease her about Narnia. But I know now that if anyone were to go there after death, it would be her."

"I hope she's there now," he finished, voice soft and laden with tears. "I hope she's having a terrific time. I love her, still. And, just a piece of advice- if you love someone, spend time with them while you have the chance. Because… you never know when they'll be taken from you."

He breaks down and Luna escorts him quickly from the platform, wrapping an arm around her oldest son's shoulders.

Without warning, Lysander leans over and kisses her once again, his salty tears mixing with hers and creating a salty, wet kiss that she enjoys (but still, she feels so guilty- can they really be Molly and Lysander without Lucy and Lorcan?).

And then, he pulls away. In her ear, he whispers, "I love you."

Fate is cruel, she thinks. The joy that runs through her veins makes her feel guilty- her sister is dead, she truly shouldn't be happy. But she knows with all of her heart and soul that she loves him- she loves him more than she probably should. He is the solid rock that stands when everything else has fallen. Though she claims she doesn't do love, she's done it this time, inadvertently, accidentally.

So she repeats the words, more certain of them than of anything in her life. "I love you."

And she cries even more because the guilt of everything is killing her along with Lucy.


Without Lucy, she is no longer half of a picture. She is not the other side of the scale. She is not the cynical to someone else's dreamer.

All she is now is Molly, totally alone in the world, an only child, one without a lovely sister.

And she hates it; she hates it more than anything.

Now, she has to put herself out there. Now, she just has to live- just for Lucy.


"Molly?" Lysander's voice echoes through the mist that shrouds her. She tugs the hood further over her head, hoping it will turn into an Invisibility Cloak so that she can disappear, or that the hole will suck her in, finally, and she will waste away into nothing. His voice comes again, relentlessly. "Did you find her grave?"

The question pierces straight through her heart again and she nods before realising that he cannot see her. "I did, Lysander."

He traces her voice straight to her, and finds her, crumpled on the ground, hood encasing her thin body. With no effort, he scoops her off the ground and asks softly (in all seriousness), "Do you think you can walk? Or do you want me to carry you?"

She just nods absently, tucking her head into his chest and letting the numbness consume her.

He carries her back to the spot of her demise- back to the gravestone. Despite the fact that it's tiny, it seems huge. It casts shadows over the bright grass, making it seem much larger than it is.

Softly, Lysander sets her down, walking over to the grave just as she had, running his strong fingers over her name. His unusual tenderness is almost enough to make the numbness retreat and make her dissolve into tears once again.

Somehow, she manages to resist.

Not seeming to fathom the gravity of this grave, he turns his head away. They don't do a rubbing of her grave- how disrespectful would that be- or take something to help them to remember the moment. But Molly senses that she will have no problem remembering any of this.

In her mind, it's so cold and crystal clear, every detail so painful that she prefers not to dwell on any of it.

Wiping yet another tear from his eyes, Lysander offers her his hand. She knows how symbolic this is. He is offering her a new beginning, a new reality. Much to her dismay, it does not include Lucy.

But there is no way that her reality could include Lucy, she knows. She could play pretend for a while. She could act as if Lucy was still alive.

But she is not, and Molly realises this. There is no way to bring Lucy back to life. Now, they can only keep her memory alive by continuing with their lives.

After a moment's deliberation, she takes his hand.

Together, they walk off, and she realises that this is real love, as well.


Everyone knows that clichés always turn out happily- except, sometimes they don't.


A/N: I'm really nervous about this, guys. I... I just, I don't know. I've never written a non-linear fic before and this might be insanely confusing, so I'm really sorry if it is. But take note that it's NON-LINEAR. Non-linear meaning that the events are NOT IN ORDER. So if you flame me for that, I will quite honestly PM-flame you. Just to get that out there ;)

Hope you like it anyway.

And this is dedicated to two very amyzing people- Julia (Julia Claire), because she is awesome and she's celebrating her fanfic anniversary and I love her and she needs to learn that Mollysander beats Lilysander ;). And Nicole (muSicLuHvER) because she's been asking for a MollyLy since forever and I love her ;)

Hope you guys enjoy!

Please review, and don't favorite without reviewing. =) Sorry for confusion.