Disclaimer: Not JK…

A/n: Written for the Next gen competition. The character was Molly Weasley and the song that inspired this fic was Halo - Beyonce

Hope you enjoy!

It was funny, the stitch she had landed herself in. Out of love and into love, within a span of…how long had it been since she had been dumped? A week? A month? A goddamned year? Molly wouldn't know did she? She had been too busy, preparing herself to fall again. Why else would she have sought his twin, his twin, for comfort?

They weren't alike, she had to admit. That atleast would spare her the miserable thought that she hadn't moved on. But she had moved on, oh how sure she was of that now. How absolutely uncertain she had been back then. How confirmed that she could never come to care for a person like she had for Lysander. But here she was, holding a torch for his twin. His twin, what had she been thinking?

But of course she hadn't always been this infatuated, for that was all it was, wasn't it? A damned crush that just needed to disappear quickly so that she could enjoy her eternal loneliness properly. But there was him, there was always him.

The one that had found her in that dark corridor, the one that had reprimanded her for being out after curfew right before he had slid down beside her. He stayed beside for the entire night, and everyday ever since. Never out of sight, as if he was afraid she'd slip into depression again if he did. She wouldn't, she was over Lysander, couldn't he see?

But she dearly wish he wouldn't, for then, he'd know about the insane and improbable inclination she had towards him, and she didn't want that to happen now, did she? But sometimes, those rare times when she was deluding herself into thinking that he liked her back, she thought she spotted that self same look in him, of secret admiration. But she was deluding herself, remember, and this was all a part of the drama that was going to repeat itself unendingly until her spirit was completely robbed; like, date, dump, mope. Over and over again.

She thought herself wiser; she had handled one break up really well, hadn't she? She had only cried that one day, that counted as being strong didn't it? And so, she'd never make the same mistake again, she'd never convince herself that she saw things in people that were never really there. But was it too late for her to retract? Had she gone and signed up for another bout of misery already? Not knowing killed her.

"What're you thinking about, Molls?" Lorcan snapped a finger before her eyes, making them focus on the person before her. He wasn't really handsome, not as much as some of her cousins were, certainly not as much as his twin, but he had a distinct charm about him that she had always thought came from being overtly friendly. There was nothing mysterious or complicated about Lorcan. He was the closest she had come to finding an honest person.

"Things. People." She answered elusively, for, she couldn't really tell him that she had been daydreaming about him, could she?

"And what things did people do to make you so suicidal as to resort to thinking?" He plopped down beside her on the couch, a sunny smile on his face. He was a guy with no qualms in his life; Molly only wished she could be like that too. Carefree, happy-go-lucky. Oh how she longed for that complete freedom that would never be hers. Admittedly, most of her cages had been of her own making, like this insane craze she carried around for Lorcan.

"I was thinking about…love" It was cheap, rotten and completely unlike her but for once, she didn't want to be bothered about ethics. Love was blind; it might as well be unethical too.

"Love? Now why are you thinking about such big things?" His eyes were cautious; Molly knew he was wondering if she had his twin in her mind. What would he feel if he knew, it wasn't his twin that surrounded her thoughts, it was his twin's twin.

"I wonder if I'll ever love someone who'll love me back, you know?"

"Maybe one day you'll find it. I mean, everyone has to be in love at some point in their lives, right?" He wasn't joking and for that, she had to be thankful. Atleast he wasn't brushing it off as a joke or worse, as one of her mood swings.

"I hope so too."

"But you know I'm always there for you, right? Your own spare wheel?" He most definitely was joking now, and she played along.

"The last resort. But I don't think I'll be quite that desperate until I'm past forty,"

"I'll wait."

It was a pathetic substitute for a declaration of love, but she was Molly Weasley, and she took what she could, even if it was disguised and disfigured.

As long as it was love.

A/n: Do review!