Why I Love Molly Weasley

Why I Love Molly Weasley

by Sya from The Mountains of Instead

When I first read the Harry Potter series, I was not a huge fan of Molly Weasley. I found her harpyish, nagging, boring – although clearly well intentioned. I felt she existed merely as an example of the mother that Harry did not have and didn't pay her much attention apart from to occasionally roll my eyes when she appeared.

Then it all changed. When I was reading the seventh book I became pregnant. A year later, when re-reading the whole lot, I had a small baby daughter and suddenly Molly seemed a whole lot different to me. Suddenly her nagging seemed less...well....naggy and more caring, her rubbish jumpers full of care, her overbearing nature borne of a deep seated love not just for her own family but for Harry as well. The difference was that I had become a mother and in doing so suddenly understood where she was coming from. Just as I now respected my own mother in a way I hadn't previously, all of Molly's actions made sense – particularly as the series progressed. She, in her way, is the glue that holds the characters together. If she seems stressed all the time, then it's because she probably is. The Weasley's are (even without the inclusion of Harry, Hermione and whatever other waifs and strays they collect) a huge family who survive on little money, yet she keeps them all dressed, fed and comfortable. Not an easy task by any standards. She continues to be warm, welcoming and all encompassing in her affections even when things start to get really grim.

And it is during the bad times, in the ever darkening shadows, that she really comes into her own. I always get the impression that Mrs. Weasley is less interested in fighting Voldemort and more interested in protecting her brood – if that means dispatching the evil of all evils in all out war then so be it, but her focus never shifts from her family. She's not trying to save the whole world, just the dozen or so close to her heart. Her fear becomes palpable the closer the fight gets. It first appears in her show down with a boggart in Prisoner of Azkaban, where she sees members of her family dead before her. It later becomes increasingly obvious when she takes to carrying around her glorious clock, desperate to know the whereabouts of her children and husband at all times – willing them to return home to her, where she can stand between them and the darkness that waits. Scenes that would once have annoyed me suddenly, in light of motherhood, developed great pathos. Her acceptance of her son's bride to be only once she realises her love is unconditional moved me to tears. I also suddenly understood her erstwhile ridiculous determination that these two would have a perfect wedding in the midst of what is, to all extents and purposes, the war to end all wars. I now understand that desperate desire to give her family one perfect day when faced with the fear that life as they know it could very well be snatched away at any moment.

Yet, frightened as she is, her fear does not turn to cowardice. Instead it fuels her, driving her to place herself on the front line of the battle – purely, it seems, to get between the enemy and her equally valiant children. This is a mother who will always be where her children need her most – be it nursing them in a sick bed or standing between them and a killing curse. I defy anyone not to want to stand up and cheer during her final show down with Bellatrix, whose fatal mistake was daring to approach one of the Weasley kids. Molly's cry of “you-will-never-touch-our-children-again” illustrates her motivation in life perfectly. A motivation that speaks to the great terror within the hearts of all mothers – that insidious fear that creeps upon you in the middle of the night that something could happen to your child. That that child could be snatched away. And of course, Mrs. Weasley does lose a child and my heart breaks for her because I don't know how you come back from that. But she will – because she has her family, her greatest treasure, to get her through.

So grab yourself a glass of butter beer, fire whiskey, mead or pumpkin juice and raise them to a woman who encompasses all that motherhood brings: the wonder, the worry, the laughter, the stress and above all the love, love, love. Here's to Molly Weasley – Mama Bear.