**Due to recent misinterpretations of some one post
from this blog, a disclaimer is now apparently necessary. If this is your first visit to The
Scratched Camera, please read the introductory post and discover, for yourself, that every typed word that
follows is unabashedly my opinion and mine alone. In said introductory post, which,
shockingly, I did not simply type up for my own good health, I state that we
all read events and characters with our own baggage in mind; no one observes
with a perfectly clear lens—hence the
name The Scratched Camera.
Therefore, it is completely your will to disagree with any material that
follows, just as it is my will to agree and advocate for what is mine.** ~End, irritating obligatory disclaimer~
Mrs. Weasley—Get Away From Her Daughter
Mrs.
Weasley is the most welcoming and warm-hearted individual you’ll ever
meet. That is, until you cross
her. The Weasley’s never had
much—they could barely afford to buy their own children their required
textbooks for their schooling.
Despite this, Molly continually lays herself on the line, not only for
her own children, but also for two who aren’t even her own flesh and
blood—Harry and Hermione.
As
the series progressed, Mrs. Weasley’s role grew astonishingly. In the first novel, she didn’t even
have a name as she generously guided Harry through the barrier to Platform 9
¾. Chamber of Secrets shows us definitively that we should never cross Molly. Ron, Fred and George hear a solid
lashing after employing the family Ford Anglia to extract Harry from
imprisonment at the hands of the Dursleys. After Harry and Ron procure the family car once again to
make their way to school, Ron receives a rather rough letter known as a Howler,
from which Mrs. Weasley’s raging voice erupts. In their defense, had Dobby only listened to Harry and
allowed him safe passage to Hogwarts, we wouldn’t be in this situation to begin
with. But, alas, I digress.
By Prisoner of Azkaban, Molly has cemented a solid place in Harry’s
life. She has become a sort of
surrogate mother, as she argues with Arthur on what precisely to tell him about
his connection to Sirius Black.
Arthur thinks Harry deserves to know the truth; Molly believes the truth
will only frighten him and, therefore, he shouldn’t be told. While I disagree with Molly in this
argument—people are always after the kid, he might as well get used to it—I
can appreciate the act of kindness she is attempting to bestow upon him. There is a certain truth in the phrase
‘ignorance is bliss,’ and, despite the fact that I will never back this
particular philosophy, I can acknowledge that Mrs. Weasley only has Harry’s
best interest at heart here. In
addition to this, she also instructs Percy to keep a particular watch on him,
in the hopes of insuring his safety.
This assures me that she is truly trying to help, not hinder.
It’s
moments such as these that I have to stop and remind myself that Harry isn’t
actually her son. She’s welcomed
him so cohesively into her family that, sometimes, without really meaning to, I
forget that Harry wasn’t hers to begin with.
These
moments become more common as the series carries on. Harry is, of course, invited to attend the Quidditch World
Cup with the Weasleys. By this
point, the reader just naturally assumes that will be the case. Any alternative seems idiotically
unnecessary. We’ve become as
accustomed to this arrangement as the characters themselves have. It’s now second nature to assume Harry and
Hermione, for that matter, are Weasleys by association. To further persuade us of this fact,
Molly and Arthur are both invited to the third and final task for the Triwizard
Tournament as his family guests.
Perhaps
we could rationalize this as a process of elimination. It was obvious the Dursleys weren’t going
to make an effort to come watch Harry, see him off one last time before he
enters a maze that may, very well, kill him. So, therefore, why not give the seats to the Weasleys? But to do so would be to ignore the
development of Molly and Arthur’s relationship with Harry over the previous
three books. He spends the end of
every summer with them. They take
him in and offer their home, no matter what the circumstances. In my mind, they have done far more to
earn those seats than the Dursleys.
This fact is confirmed as Molly
comforts Harry at the close of the maze, when he’s incredibly distraught over
the events of the evening. This
comfort provides Harry with his first real taste of motherly affection in a
very long time.
In
Order of the Phoenix, Molly resumes
an old argument, this time with Sirius as opposed to her husband. Sirius intends to tell Harry anything
and everything pertaining to the Order.
Molly, on the other hand, thinks he’s too young to know everything. Again, I disagree with Mrs. Weasley here, but I can see her
point. Her intentions are good,
despite how much that may frustrate Harry.
Molly
has two shining moments in the entirety of the series. Her first happens in Order of the Phoenix. She stumbles upon a boggart whilst staying
at Number Twelve. Before she can
vanquish it, we see that it has taken the form of her worst fear—her entire
family and Harry dead, at the hands
of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
She confesses that she can’t stand to lose anyone else she loves to the
war effort—in which she openly includes
Harry.
Once
again, I must stop myself for a reminder that Harry shares no blood with this
woman. Certainly, she knew his
parents, but they weren’t necessarily close. She doesn’t help Harry out of some debt to be paid to his
parents. He is her son’s best
friend, the first person to really choose Ron above all others, and, therefore,
he deserves her protection as much as her own son.
Some
would argue that Mrs. Weasley is motivated to protect Harry due to the
importance of his life. Morally,
she needs to keep him alive to save any chance of their eventual freedom from
Voldemort. This may be what
prompts her irate yelling in Chamber of
Secrets; her sons not only risk their own lives, but the life of the famous
Harry Potter, the savior. While
practically this may be true, I believe her support of Harry goes beyond
that. By book three, her moral
compass is no longer her deciding factor.
The time they spend together in Diagon Alley in Chamber of Secrets cements a certain affection for Harry that will
serve as her driving force for his protection up until the last page.
Her
second shining moment happens, of course, at the Battle of Hogwarts. It is simply impossible to complete a
post about Mrs. Weasley and not mention the
line. That moment, that
beautiful and perfect moment, where she loses all her inhibitions and lets
everything go. She’s just suffered
the loss of one of her sons, another will always be short one twin and one ear,
yet another will always be part werewolf.
She’s had enough; the war simply can’t take anymore from her or she will
lose it.
Therefore,
when Bellatrix Lestrange very nearly kills Ginny with a killing curse that
narrowly missed its target, she loses her last thread of control. When she jumped in, taking the fight
from three of the most qualified young witches in the series, and screamed with
all her might, “get away from my daughter, you bitch!” I cheered so hard I
actually dropped my book.
There’s
no denying that Bellatrix is one of Voldemort’s most prized Death Eaters for a
reason. It was three against one,
prior to Mrs. Weasley’s entrance, and she was barely breaking a sweat. That being established, I’m not so sure
that, had it been a normal day, Molly would’ve been able to beat
Bellatrix. Fueled by intense anger
and love for her daughter, however, she has the ability to see the duel through
and kill Lestrange with one spell to the chest.
Rowling
had always intended for Molly to be the one to defeat Bellatrix, as a way to
contrast Molly’s maternal love with Bellatrix’s obsessive love for her Dark
Lord. With her defensive actions
taken to protect Ginny, Molly is added to Rowling’s ranks of saving
mothers. However, I could argue
she had been added long before the Battle of Hogwarts, with a gentle hand on a
shoulder, as she kindly instructed Harry to run towards a wall, and assured him
everything would be okay.
From Bella to Katniss:
Is Molly a good role model?
Mrs. Weasley is the mother of all mothers. She cares for children who aren’t even hers. She would lay her life on the line for
Harry and Hermione, even prior to them becoming her children by marriage. Some feminists may think Molly’s just a
clichéd mom, who works from home, cooking and cleaning, while not doing much
else. With seven biological
children, and several others she’s picked up via marriage or simple
association, I’m not sure she’d have time for much else, on top of taking care
of the Burrow. However, it should
be noted, as soon as the war effort is reestablished, Molly immediately agrees
to join the Order at Dumbledore’s request. She doesn’t just sit on the sidelines. She’s present at every battle, and not
simply present; Mrs. Weasley is a powerful and talented witch. For evidence of this, just ask
Bellatrix how that shot to the chest felt. Through this, she shows us that motherhood isn’t the end—that
women must continue to find causes to fight for, particularly something that inspires
us. Her relationship with her
husband is informative, as well.
Personally, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have long represented my idea of what a
good, solid marriage consists of.
Both feel comfortable to be themselves and speak their minds. Molly never feels compromised or
over-shadowed by her husband, free to unleash her temper and express her
feelings; Arthur feels similarly.
They have created a house full of love, where everyone feels
welcome. They’ve taught their children
to judge based on character, not blood status. Or, as Ron says, it may not be much, but it’s home.
Role Model Rating:
7/10
From Lorelai to Wonder Woman: Is Molly relatable?
Molly has a nasty temper, which can sometimes hinder her ability to be a
good role model. However, it does
serve to make her more relatable.
She gets very angry with Fred and George before they go to the Quidditch
World Cup in Goblet of Fire. But, as soon as they Dark Mark is
thrown into the sky by the Tenth Doctor, she grows to regret the lecture
she had given them on their experimentations with candy. She dreads having her last words to her
sons be spoken in anger. Perhaps
we haven’t suffered the paralyzing fear of potentially losing someone directly
after arguing with them. I do
feel, however, that regretting anger and throwing a temper tantrum is a very relatable
sentiment, one that I’m certain almost everyone has experienced at one time or
another. Mrs. Weasley is, at her
core, a very caring individual who has a way of adopting children as she sees
necessary. While I may not be
precisely similar to her in this characteristic, I’ve met women—and even
men—who are. They are the people
who gave me comfort when my family wasn’t nearby. They helped me when I felt utterly alone. In their honor, I can’t help but give
Mrs. Weasley a respectable relatability rating.
Relatability Rating:
6/10
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