Stand by Me
"Baldy," Jarvis greets him as he sniffles Arthur's shoes before going back to burrowing into the carpet. The man's attention turns to his wife who sits by the hearth, and it seems she has been there for a while. Her knees are pressed into the thick carpet edge, and Arthur can't help but wince at the sight.
The woman, though, pays no attention to the man or the fact that her knees are going to be sore when she will get up, and continues to babble at Jarvis the Jarvey (Arthur can't muster up slightest bit of humor at what used to be a running joke in the family). The creature is, in turn, ignoring her as he runs amok, sending out insults at random at the two adults.
"Hello, dear Mollywobbles," the man greets, hoping to get an answer as he takes another two steps, shoes still on in a hope she will scold him for getting lint onto the woolen rug, and presses a kiss to her brow. For a moment, the incoherent mumbling, which Arthur knows is another of the stories from her childhood, pauses. A second later, though, the plump redhead continues the litany, and Arthur sighs. "I'll go get the kids."
He chooses, once again, to walk the twenty-minute distance to the Diggories instead of apparating over, and maybe he's taking the coward's way out, trying to spend even more time away from home, but seeing his wife, who had been once a ray of sunshine, so broken after the loss of her baby brothers breaks him every day. Jarvis is the only one she speaks to, and considering the fact that the Jarvey can't really understand her or keep a conversation, it hardly counts. Day after day, he comes home to his wife reciting one of the twins' stories to a creature who doesn't care, her voice a like a broken record, interrupted only by the insults Jarvis throws at her — words that he learned from Fabian, who had not been impressed when Molly got Gideon a newborn Jarvey on his seventeenth birthday while the other twin had to stay content with his old owl.
A broken sound escapes him — a pitiful laugh — when he remembers the multitude of memories centred around his wife's brothers. He pushes the memory away. There's too much sorrow in the Weasley household already without his grief adding to it.
The Diggory house comes into view. Amos, his once upon a time colleague who has long since accepted the offered promotions — promotions that Arthur declined to manage more time for his three sons — recently got married, and his wife, who had been Arthur's yearmate at Hogwarts, loves to look after the kids. Charlie is her favourite; the four-year-old thoroughly enjoys the stories Annie weaves about dragons and hippogriffs and giant squids as the two sit on the sofa, watching over the napping Percy. Bill, Charlie tells him, is a little boring, but he takes care of books well, so Annie lets him read about Potions and Charms all day.
It's his oldest son who opens the door when Arthur gets to the house. "You and your brothers are not giving Annie trouble, are you?" he asks as he ruffles his son's hair. It's getting long, he observes, but it's Molly who's good with… He stops that train of thought, forcing a little smile as Bill nods excitedly.
"They're a pleasure to watch over, Arthur," Annie says, smiling.
"Thank you, Mrs. Digg— Annie," he corrects hastily at her sharp look. "I wish you would let me pay—"
"Nonsense. It gets too lonely around the house when Amos is at the Ministry, and the apples from your tree are the juiciest I've ever had." Her smile turns a tad sad as she continues, "Percy fusses a little now and then. He was calling for 'mumm' today."
Arthur inhales sharply. He knows it's Percy's first word — something that should have been witnessed and celebrated by his wife and him, and from the knowing look Annie gives him, she realises this, too.
"I don't mind looking after them, but I think they need Molly." Arthur nods numbly.
"I'll talk to her." Annie gives him another sad smile. There's little hope he will get a response.
A while later, as Arthur fixes sandwiches for his sons after another attempt to converse with his wife, he wonders if she will ever heal again.
Day after day of same occurrences repeating, Arthur can't help but be a little concerned as he enters the silent house, no sound of his wife's chattering to Jarvis reaching his ears. His footsteps lead him to the living room, where his wife has taken residence in the last two months, and he comes to a halt at the sight in front of him.
Molly sits in her usual position, her mouth parted and her eyes staring at the little creature that lays uncharacteristically still on the carpet. His beady eyes are wide open, and Arthur knows Jarvis is no more.
This time, when Arthur steps onto the carpet, his shoes still on, there is a reaction from his wife. In a quick motion, she spins her torso and hugs his legs. Sobs wrack her body, and tears fall from her eyes for the first time since hearing the fateful news two months back. Arthur slides to the ground and holds her in his arms as she cries for her losses.
"He— h-he was m-my ro-rock." Her voice is barely decipherable, but Arthur hears it all as she tells him how he was the one to stand by her, to keep her tears at bay.
The man feels guilt rising in his chest. He should have been the support pillar for his wife, but between his job and the kids, he hadn't really been around, and he'd always stayed away for as long as he could, and a creature who couldn't really understand or hold a conversation had filled in his stead.
He corrects his mistake now, though, as he sits by the fireplace, holding his wife, as she sings the stories from her childhood through sobs and hiccups.
Hours later, Amos opens the door, and a toddler bursts forth from where he had been playing on the ground to hug his mother's legs for the first time in weeks, bringing smiles to the faces of three of the adults as the fourth picks her son up to hug him to her chest. And for the first time in very long, Arthur dares to hope.
She never heals completely. Never again does she take a broom to the sky — all other kids learn how to fly from their elder brothers, never knowing their mother had been a star chaser in her day. Neither do the adult Weasleys ever get a new pet of their own, despite Errol's dwindling ability to carry letters. Yet, with his support, his wife accepts the crumbled heap their life has become, and Arthur vows to stand by her as she slowly builds it anew, crooked, yet beautiful.
~fin~
1187 words
Written for QLFC by Beater 2 of Falmouth Falcons
Prompts: Arthur Weasley
Optional: (song) Stand by Me - Ben E. King, (creature) Jarvey