"Aaachoo!"

The twenty-something man sneezed yet again as more dust was kicked up in the air by his rather lacklustre cleaning. He rubbed his bleary eyes, red and raw with a combination of fatigue and hay fever. He yawned and picked up another cracked and ancient teacup and threw it carelessly into the bucket by his side.

From far below him, Arthur Weasley could hear the sounds of his wife, Molly, singing softly to their two children and sighed in relief as their feeble protests (for their right not to sleep) faded into blissful silence. Both boys, William and Charlie, they were both at that boisterous age where they had seemingly endless reserves of energy – and endless ways to break things, bless them.

Arthur picked up the last of the ancient tea set and placed it more gently into the bucket, not wanted to wake the boys. He smiled as he heard a quiet knock from beneath the entrance to the attic. He shambled towards the hole and peered over the edge to see his wife smiling wearily at him, offering a tray with what appeared to be a full teapot and two teacups. He smiled and leant over the hole, holding out his lanky arms to take the tray off her. He pulled himself back up the hole and placed the tray on a dust coated table nearby. His wife gingerly clambered up the ladder to join him.

She pursed her lips as she surveyed the scene before her – things in boxes, things in bins and an ever shrinking collection of broken junk scattered here and there. She smiled faintly and looked at her husband, with his dirty hair, snivelly nose and puffy eyes, all from the aggravating dust. He wiped his nose with his arm and grinned sleepily at her, eyeing the teapot with undisguised longing. Molly's eyes twinkled and she poured tea for the pair of them. For several minutes, they merely stood and sipped the tea in silence, before Arthur found the energy, and need to speak.

"Molly…?" he murmured, watching her with a loving smile.

"Yes, Arthur?" She replied, meeting his gaze, sipping her tea placidly.

He gulped, and quickly finished the rest of his tea before clearing his throat and speaking in rather constricted voice – "Do you, um, know what day it is today, love?"

Raising an eyebrow, Molly drained her cup of its contents, placing the cup down on a bow and shook her head. "No, Arthur, I don't… why, is it something special?"

He cleared his throat again and clasped his hands, the tips of his ears showing just a little more red than normal. "It's, uh… Valentine's Day, actually… dearest."

Molly's smile widened and she brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, watching her husband with some amusement. He cleared his throat again, and strode over to sit by her side.

"Um. Yes, Valentine's Day…the day of romance and love and, um. Yes." He flashed a nervous smile at her, and reached for her hand, grasping it in the dim light. She smiled back at him, and leant her head on his shoulder, enjoying this rare moment of contact between them. With a content sigh, she thought of their boys and smiled wistfully – as much as she loved them, they were a handful, and she occasionally found herself longing for a bit of peace and quiet… and perhaps some 'private' time with her husband.

She squeezed his hand and paused, listening for any sounds of life from downstairs. She heard nothing from the boys and a rather wicked gleam came into her eyes.

"Arthur…?" she enquired, snuggling up against him.

"Yes, Molly?" He replied, sounding more confident and relaxed now.

"This is nice... just the two of us. You'd been planning this, hadn't you?" She gave his hand another squeeze, and turned her head to look at him.

He smiled back at her and chuckled wheezily.

"I'd been hoping, dear heart. And it is nice, to have a moment's peace and quiet, just the two of us." He paused and looked his wife in her eyes. "Not that the boys are painful, or... or anything. I mean, um. Well, they're so -noisy-, that's all."

Molly smiled in good humour, shaking her head.

"Boys will be boys, Arthur."

"I know, Molly, I know. But sometimes, I wish… well, sometimes I wish for a girl. They're quiet, kind…and would show her father a least –some- respect." He smiled faintly and looked away.

Molly's lips spread in a mischievous grin and she squeezed his hand. She swallowed, pausing before she spoke, a deliciously sinful thought entering her mind.

"We could always again, for a girl, Arthur." She squeezed his hand and tried to smother a girlish giggle as his ears, followed by his cheeks flushed a flaming red, matching his hair.

"Well…? Why not, Arthur… it is Valentine's Day, after all." Molly whispered in Arthur's ear.

"U-uh…" Arthur bleated, his voice popping like an adolescent boy.

Molly smiled to herself. "I'll take that as a yes."

And before he could utter another word, Arthur Weasley found his lips sealed by hers.

Molly's eyes snapped open as she heard the pattering of little feet and a few terrified squeals coming from underneath her. She hurriedly peeled herself from her husband's embrace, buttoning up her blouse as she raced down the ladder and into the boys' room.

"Mummy!" She heard one of the boys yelp, and felt them both cannonball into her, clinging to her legs for all they were worth.

"Bill, Charlie! What ever is the matter, boys?" She picked them both up, holding them close to her, shushing them softly as she sat down on one of their beds.

"Hush now, I'm here now… now tell me what the matter is?"

She found herself staring into Bill's big sorrowful eyes as he mustered the strength to tell her of the terrible things they'd heard.

"Mum, we were 'sleep, I promise… ooh, it was awful, Mum! There were 'orrible noises coming from the a…at... roof! Moans 'n' bangs and scary groans!" At this, he buried his head back in her ample bosom and wouldn't say another word.

Molly cleared her throat, blushing faintly as her mind raced to find an excuse to tell the boys.

"Don't you worry about those noises boys. I thought I'd... uh, already told you – the house is haunted. It's nothing to be afraid of… it's just the ghoul in the attic."