#molly starkey

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Molly Starkey! Besides Bye Bye Blackbird, what other songs do you like?

Bye Bye Blackbird? I don’t know that song, unless you mean Blackbird, by that one muggle band. As for songs, I mean, I don’t know. I’ve got some old Weird Sisters albums at home, and I like a lot of their songs. I like a lot of the Bent-Winged Snitches songs. If you’re meaning Muggle music, though, I really don’t know a lot. Only things I hear on Uncle John’s radio, and I rarely know the names of them. 

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hey Redbird. Miss me?

Go away, Blondie. 

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Molly! How was your Valentine's Day? Did you do anything romantic? Particularly with a certain Ravenclaw boy? *wink wink*

My Valentine’s was pretty, uh, normal I guess? I… didn’t do anything special, and certainly not with Ali-whoever this Ravenclaw boy is that you’re suggesting. I have absolutely no idea what it is you are talking about…

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Five Years Time} Molly&Alistair

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Molly&John ||True Family||

Peter was overly excited to be visiting his grandparents. Three years old and he was a little ball of energy - John sometimes had trouble keeping up. He had to carry him today, as Peter kept wanting to run off. as John reached the door of the Grayson’s estate, it opened. If John hadn’t be used to it happening before, it probably would have really creeped him out. However, there stood Dorian, tall and regal as ever. He had to have been in his late sixties, and John wasn’t sure why he continued to work as a butler - surely he could retire by now.

“Mister Smith,” he had a low, gravelly voice as he spoke, “come in.” The door was opened wider so that John and Peter could enter. John was sure that Dorian hated him, or at least, really didn’t like him. He figured it had to do with Anne-Marie, and John wouldn’t blame him. He hated himself half the time for the same reason.  “Oh, look at little Peter! He’s getting so big!” Sylvia gushed as John put Peter down, allowing him to run to his grandmother. Sylvia cooed at her youngest grandchild. “Look Harold, he as Annie’s nose! Oh, Jonathan, you should really bring him round more often.” John cringed at the use of his full name - only his mother was allowed to call him that. John had told Sylvia that when they first met, but it hadn’t stopped her from using his proper name.  “Yes, my apologies,” John bowed his head. He only visited a few times, mainly because it was so hard for him to visit his late wife’s family - even three years later. He was positive that they didn’t like him anyway; they just wanted to see Peter - which was fine, but he didn’t like being in this house.  “Sylvia, dear, someone is going to have to go pick up Molly soon,” Harold spoke as he glanced at the clock. John’s nearly non-existent eyebrows rose. He had only just realized that Molly wasn’t present, noticing now how eerily quiet it was.  “You’re right,” Sylvia frowned slightly as she glanced at the clock. John watched as they stayed quiet for a while, as if thinking who to send. John couldn’t handle the silence any longer.  “Where is she?” He questioned, wondering where Molly could have gotten off to. She didn’t take dancing lessons anymore - maybe she was at a piano lesson? She hadn’t seemed to enjoy it all that much anymore, so it wasn’t likely.  “Oh, she’s at her paternal grandparent’s house. She stayed over night; they had had a big family dinner last night and had wanted her to join.” Sylvia paused, bouncing Peter on her hip before turning to look at John. “Oh, Jonathan, could you do us a great favor? Could you please pick Molly up?” John had seen that coming from a mile away, but he didn’t mind. It meant he was able to get out of this house.  “Sure, no problem,” he said before he got the address and apparated out.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Nine year old Molly Starkey stood outside, her cheeks puffed as she stared at the house in front of her. She hadn’t wanted to come to her paternal grandparents’ house, but her grandmama had told her it was probably a good idea to make nice with them. Well, she was wrong! It started off fine, or at least as fine as it could have, and then it had gotten progressively worse as the night went on. Dinner’s main course of conversation was talking about all of her cousins accomplishments. There was a side of pure blood elitist talk, and then a dessert of picking Molly apart.  Nearly the whole family had stayed at the house that night, a mansion just smaller than the Grayson mansion. She stayed in a room with the girls - Kimberly, Hazel, Scarlett, Elisabeth, and Amelia. They were all relatively close to her in age, but she didn’t really know much about them. Kim and Lis weren’t very nice at all, and Aimee tried to emulate her older sister, Lis. Hazel was far too quiet, and often ran away whenever Molly tried to talk to her. Scarlett was the only one she really got along with, but they didn’t have enough alone time. Scarlett’s brother, Wesley, was nice too, but he didn’t stay. He only came to dinner, and then went out with his friends.  The next morning, they had gotten up early, had a big breakfast, and decided to trade chocolate frog cards. It had been Chris, the oldest of the group since Wesley wasn’t there, who was the main bully. He had convinced everyone but Scarlett to ignore her until she stormed outside, where she was now.  “Stupid house, stupid cousins, stupid everything,” she huffed to herself, crossing her arms.  “You’re the stupid one,” laughed a voice from behind her. She whipped around, cheeks puffing once more as her green eyes fell onto Chris. Now what did he want? “At least we’re not blood traitors,” he sneered at her.  “I am not!” Molly instinctively shot back. She thought about it as Chris raised his eyebrows in amusement. “W-well, maybe I am, but it’s not a bad thing!” Molly knew nothing of muggles, but that didn’t mean she hated them, muggle borns, half bloods, or so called blood traitors. Her grandpa Harold loved muggle magic tricks, and her Uncle John and cousin Peter were both half bloods. She loved them all and didn’t see the trouble with any of it. Not the way her dad’s side of the family seemed to.  “You are going to ruin this family’s name, just like Uncle Adrian and your good-for-nothing dad!” Chris sneered once more. The second he mentioned her father, Molly saw red. She hadn’t been sure what had happened until she was being launched backwards by some spell Chris had used - he wasn’t even supposed to use magic outside of Hogwarts! “You stupid… you stupid cow!” Chris screeched, a long scratch on his cheek. He went to use another spell, but Molly was quicker - throwing a rock at his head. It caught him off guard, hitting him on the forehead. Blood poured over his left eye as he screamed.  They had definitely been loud enough to draw some attention, and Molly was surprised when her family started to pour out of the house. “You insolent girl!” She heard her grandmother screech as she ran towards her bleeding grandson. She heard her cousins whispering amongst themselves behind her.  “You are nothing but trouble!” Her Uncle Patrick hissed as he grabbed her by the arm. Molly frowned, ripping her arm out of his grasp.  “I’m not the one who started it!” She exclaimed, stomping her foot. It had been stupid Chris who had! She was minding her own business out here, by herself, when he came out and made her angry. He didn’t need to say anything about her dad, but had.  “And then who did? Christopher? I highly doubt that!” Lauren, her grandmother, glared over at her as she started to heal Chris’ wounds. They weren’t that bad, really, he was blowing them out of proportion with all of his wailing. “Patrick, go owl his mother, she’s going to want to know about this.” Patrick seemed to hesitate before Lauren yelled for him to go do it - apparently, he and his ex-wife weren’t on all that great of terms.  Lauren stood, passing Chris off onto his grandfather, Reginald, before moving towards Molly. While she had easily been able to get out of Patrick’s grasp and wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, Lauren was another thing. She was downright scary! Molly shrunk back somewhat as she approached. “I don’t know why we bothered with you! You are just like that filthy mother of yours!” Molly felt tears well up in her eyes, her little hands forming fists. “Ethan, take the children inside and entertain them. Molly and I will be up in my study.”  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ John found himself outside of another mansion. Merlin, what is with all of these rich people? He wondered, letting out a sigh before approaching the door. He hesitated before knocking on the door, almost expecting it to open like it did at the Grayson’s. It didn’t, so he brought his knuckles to the wood. He stood there for a moment, and when the door opened, he expected to see another stuffy old man like Dorian. No, there stood a man a handful of years older than John himself. He had red hair slicked back and a frown on his face.  “Yes?” He didn’t seem all too happy either. John just stood there for a moment before coming back to his senses.  “Uh, yes, sorry, I’m here to pick up Molly. I’m her Uncle John…” He wasn’t even sure if they knew about him, and doubted they did. Why should they? The older man sized him up, which made John feel uncomfortable at first. Still looking displeased, he opened the door and allowed John in.  “Thank Merlin someone has come to get her. She’s been nothing but trouble since she got here.” John’s nearly invisible eyebrows scrunched together. Molly, trouble? Sure, she could be a handful, but she was never really trouble. Of course, he didn’t really know her all that well and hadn’t been around for the last couple of years. Maybe she had changed.  “I’m sorry to hear that, what did she do?” John asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The older man shoved his hands into his pockets, giving a small snort. Was it… funny? John was extremely confused.  “What didn’t she do? You know, she’s just like that mother of hers.” John ran his tongue over his dry lips, his confusion not lessening any.  “H-Helene?” John questioned. Helene wasn’t a troublemaker. If anything, it had been David who caused trouble, and it was usually all in good jest from what he remembered. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I quite understand.” The man turned to him, still not having introduced himself to John at all, which he thought to be quite rude.  “She’s a trouble making curse of a girl. She starts trouble where it shouldn’t be, and destroys everything she touches. She’s a filthy blood traitor like her mother and that whole family. Helene tainted David, and look what happened to him. He’s dead. Good riddance, to the both of them.” The man spat. John felt his jaw lock, his hands forming fists. Well, he hadn’t exactly been expecting that. Everything that came out of this man was poison and lies. To slay Helene’s name like that, and David’s… to say that Molly, a nine year old girl, was like that… what kind of people were these Starkey’s?  “You’ve got some nerve talking about the dead like that. Helene was a good soul, and she and David were happy. If Molly’s like Helene at all, then it’s a good thing, because Helene was a good person. If anything, though, she’s her father’s daughter. She’s a Starkey, but nothing like what I’ve just seen displayed. What a pitiful existence.” John frowned at the man, who looked caught off guard by his statement before frowning in return.  “You said you’re Molly’s Uncle, huh?” He sized him up again before letting out a laugh. “You were married to that ditsy little Grayson weren’t you? That was the only other one, right? Thank Merlin. I could have sworn I heard she died… it’s like that whole family has a curse on them. They all die!” He continued to laugh. John started to shake in anger. “I’m glad though. Blood traitors, the lot of them. They could have been a great family, but now they’re just as bad as the mudbloods. Your wife, she died in childbirth, didn’t she? I think that’s what my wife read in the obits. You know… that means, essentially… you killed her.” The man was still laughing when John snapped. His wand was out faster than lightning, pressed up against the man’s neck as John pushed him against the closest wall. He dug his wand into his neck, making him wince. “I’d like to hear you say that again.” John told him darkly. “Say it AGAIN!”  “You. Killed. Your. Wife.” The man hissed. John shot a spell at him, knocking the man off to the side and gasping for breath. He tried to get up, but John just sent another one towards him. “You and that whole bloody family is what’s wrong with this world!” The man spat, trying to get to his feet. John shot a severing charm his way. “You should all be wiped out!” John grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up so that John’s face was right in his.  “I’m what’s wrong with this world? The Grayson’s are what’s wrong with this world? God, it’s amazing people like you still exist in this world! And then to blame an innocent child, who has gone through more than you will ever go through, you are the scum of this Earth!”  “What’s going on in- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” A voice yelled from somewhere behind John. He didn’t even bother to turn to look. “Whoever you are, you will let go of my husband! Ethan!” Oh, so that was the man’s name? Ethan? “Let him go!” John turned to look darkly at the woman behind him. He let out a small laugh, letting go of Ethan’s collar, letting him fall to the ground with a grunt. “Who the hell are you?” “I’m John Smith, and I’m here to pick up my niece. Get her for me, now.” How could Sylvia and Harold let Molly come to a place like this? Did they even know what these people were like? To think she had to spend the whole night here, it made John want to puke. Ethan made a move to get up, but John swiftly kept him on the ground. That was where he belonged, after all. Ethan’s wife hurried off.  John wasn’t sure how much time had passed, though he kept himself “entertained” by making sure Ethan stayed on the ground, once giving him a good swift kick to the stomach. That kept him down for a while. He could hear footsteps closing in, and turned to see Molly standing at the top of the staircase. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her nose was running as she brought the sleeve of her shirt up to wipe it away. She had been crying. These people made her cry.  “Uncle John!” She ran down the stairs towards him. As she got closer, he noticed a good size bruise on her cheek. His grip on his wand tightened, but Molly came down and instantly gripped onto his legs. He held tightly to her, glaring at the older woman who slowly followed behind Molly. She slowly looked over at the younger man on the floor - who John presumed was her son. Although she had graying hair, he could still see the red there. Molly certainly hadn’t inherited her hair from her mother’s side of the family; they all had dark hair.  “So, John Smith is your name? How common,” the older woman looked down on him. His jaw set again. “Here to collect my blood traitor of a granddaughter, are you? Good riddance.”  “Yes, I am, and if you ever so much as take another look her way, I will come back here and make sure that you don’t ever look at anyone ever again.” John looked down at Molly, taking a good look at her cheek. “I’m guessing this bruise is your handy work?” His eyes flicked back up to the older woman, who stayed quiet. “Thought so. I see any of you come near her again, and it’s not going to end well. Come on Molly, let’s go home.” John turned to walk Molly out. He paused at the door though. “You guys are a dying breed, I hope you know that. You won’t last long in this world.” With that, John apparated Molly back home.  Sylvia and Harold agreed that Molly was to never see her paternal grandparents again. She would never be put through that. John still didn’t come around as much as he would a few years later, but he came around a little more to check on Molly, and for that, Molly was grateful. 

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MOLLY STARKEY

Pretty much cannot do anything without magic (i.e. laundry, dishes, et cetera).

Is terrified of life after Hogwarts, and is unsure of what she wants to do when she graduates.

During the end of her first year to the end of her second year, Molly had a massive crush on Fionn, and would often show her affection by punching him in the face.

Believes everyone she loves will die, and that she is cursed (much like John), because she has known too many friends and family who have died.

Explored her sexuality a bit in her fourth year, and made out with a Hufflepuff girl, but ultimately decided that she prefers guys.

Is not a virgin.

She loves olives. A lot.

She absolutely adores thunderstorms.

Doesn't like to burden other people with her problems, and absolutely hates crying in front of people.

Molly often wished she had siblings growing up, and wondered what it would be like (and is very envious of people who have large families).

[xspaceprincess]

John Smith || 30 || Hufflepuff || Transfiguration Professor

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Molly, what are your thoughts on the name Lyra?

Lyra? Well, I don't know. It's a cute name I suppose. Really pretty. :)