Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. They are all characters that belong to literary genius JK Rowling. I am borrowing them for the purpose of this story.
Wind rustled around the house, making the shutters bang against the windows, and causing the garden gnomes to go a frenzy. From the top room of the Burrow, every gust of wind, every leaf that hit the house, sounded much louder than it actually was. Harry was trying to recover from the war at the place always thought of as home, but he couldn't manage to sleep with the weather being as noisy as it was. Since the war ended, Harry hated almost any noise, especially when it was a loud clatter.
Harry got out of his bed on the top floor of the Burrow, and quietly crept down the stairs as not to wake Molly, the home's only other occupant. Bill and Fleur were living in the cottage by the sea. Charlie was still busy with his dragon studies in Romania, George was off on his own for the first time in his life, Ron and Ginny were off living together, and Ginny was back at Hogwarts, working on finishing her seventh year. Much to Molly's amusement and disappointment, Arthur was rarely home anymore. He said his job at the Ministry required him to work all hours of the night, but Molly didn't believe him. She figured he stayed away from the Burrow as much as possible to deal with the death of their beloved son, Fred. It had been almost a year since his death, and it would be a stretch to say that Molly and Arthur had spent more than two weeks together since then.
Harry greeted the kitchen with the familiar smell of tea and pumpkin muffins. He knew Molly was also unable to sleep.
"Couldn't sleep, Molly?"
"No, dear. You?" Molly broke from a lifeless gaze out the window and asked.
"No. The noise, it is just too loud," Harry answered as he grabbed himself a cup and poured some tea.
"Muffin?" Molly asked half-heartedly.
"No thank you, Molly. I'm still full from the marvelous dinner you made."
"Thank you, Harry. You're so sweet, but you helped cook that dinner, too."
"Ha," Harry rolled his eyes, "I would hardly call adding noodles to a boiling pot of water helping," Harry answered as he made his way to the chair across from Molly and sat down.
"Well, I do say it is helping. And do you dare question me, Harry?" Molly glared.
"No, Molly. In fact, I was just about to say that is was a pleasure helping prepare dinner tonight," Harry answered sarcastically.
"I thought you'd see it my way," Molly laughed. Molly paused, but cautiously asked, "Harry, do you like living here even though Ginny is at school and Ron and Hermione have moved away?"
"Yes, Molly. Of course," Harry replied without hesitation. "This is the only place, other than Hogwarts, that I've ever felt as though I could call a home. I feel safe here, and I couldn't imagine being away from home right now."
"Well, Harry," Molly answered on the verge of tears. "Just know that you should always feel like you can call this place home, no matter what."
"Thank you, Molly. It means a lot to me," Harry replied. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Molly,"
"Yes, dear?" she asked.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yes dear, of course," Molly answered before taking a sip of her tea.
"Do you miss Arthur?"
Molly paused before she answered. She nervously straightened out her napkin and cup before answering, just to gather enough courage to tackle the question.
"Harry, you have to understand something," Molly began, "When Fred died, something changed in Arthur. He turned into a man I never knew. When I reminded him that we had to be strong for the other children, he said, 'What does is matter now? Our boy is gone,' and the Arthur Weasley I knew would have never said that. So, I don't miss the Arthur that was here after the war, after my boy," Molly paused to wipe her tears. "What I miss, Harry, is the Arthur that lived here before the war, the Arthur I think I have lost forever."
Harry reached across the table and put Molly's hand is his. "Molly," he said, "Arthur is one of the finest men I know. Give him time. He'll come around."
"Harry," Molly said, retracting her hand, "It has been nearly a year. How much more time does he need?"
Harry got up and captured Molly in a warm embrace. He didn't say anything to her, but he just let her cry. It was the first time since the end of the war that Molly could remember feeling so comforted. Arthur stayed distant, and the kids didn't know how to react. Molly tightened her grip around Harry as her sobs became stronger. Molly tried to hold her composure, but, right here, right now, knowing that someone was there for her, Molly lost all self control. She finally grieved like she should have all along.
Harry held Molly in his arms until the sobs turned into whimpers, and the whimpers turned into silence.
"Molly, ready for bed?" Harry quietly whispered.
"Yes dear, thank you," Molly answered as she gave Harry a peck on the cheek and turned towards the stairs.
"Wait," Harry chirped, "Let me help you up the stairs."
"I'm not a little old lady, Harry Potter!" Molly snapped back.
"I know, Molly," Harry laughed. "But you are an extremely tired woman, which is sometimes more dangerous. Just take my arm and let me help you upstairs." Harry said as Molly did as she was told. When they got to Molly's room, Harry asked, "Are you going to be alright?"
"Yes. Fine, I'm fine," Molly answered, her face still blotchy from the tears.
"Okay," Harry answered, "Night, then," he said as he turned away.
"Night, dear," Molly answered. "Oh, and Harry," Molly said as Harry turned back, "Thank you," Molly said is less than a whisper.
Harry just smiled and shook his head at her, thanking her without words as she shut her door behind her. Harry walked up to the top room of the Burrow, but he couldn't fall asleep. He lay awake worrying, worrying about Molly.
The following morning, Harry awoke to the smell of sausage. He knew that Molly was up. He groggily got dressed, and went down to the kitchen to see what he could do to help.
"Harry! How'd you sleep, dear?" Molly cheerfully greeted Harry.
"Well, thank you," Harry lied. "And you?"
"Oh, just marvelous," Molly answered as she cracked an egg into the frying pan. She turned around and looked at Harry. "Harry," she began, "I do want to say thank you for last night. I really needed that."
"Don't mention it, Molly."
Molly cracked a smile at Harry, and then went back to her frying pan as Harry set the table. Molly knew she was lucky to have Harry in the house. She knew without him there, she might lose her sanity. She filled her and Harry's plates and walked over to the table, setting Harry's plate down in front of him.
"Look's great, Molly!" Harry quickly said.
"Thank you, but really, Harry, I would at least hope I could manage some sausage and eggs after all of these years," Molly laughed.
"They are very well managed," Harry replied with his mouth full. Molly rolled her eyes, and then went to her plate. She wasn't much on sausage, but she knew it was Harry's favorite, and she thought she would make it to thank him for not only last night, but for everything he had done for her and the entire Weasley family, even Arthur.
"You know, Molly, you didn't have to make sausage. I know you don't care for it." Harry said.
"Oh, but you do, dear. You deserve some good breakfast every once in awhile," Molly replied.
"Well, its great," Harry said, "And thank you."
"You're welcome, dear. Now, less chatting. Come on, eat up before it goes cold."
Somehow still slightly nervous by Molly's tone of voice, Harry quickly silenced and ate every bite on his plate. Molly got up to begin the dishes, but Harry quickly interrupted.
"You've done quite enough this morning. Let me," and with the flick of his wand, the dishes quickly went to the sink, where they began cleaning themselves.
Molly glared up at Harry. "You know, Harry, sometimes, I wish there were more like you out there in the world. Smart, charming, powerful, handsome, and kind. Really, what more could a woman want? The woman who lands your heart, Harry Potter, is a very lucky woman, indeed."
Harry's face quickly turned red. He knew he would quickly see revenge, though. "Well, Molly, I wish there were more women like you in the world. Smart, loving, caring, attractive, a good cook, a prefect mother, a great wife. Arthur is a lucky man," Harry knew he shouldn't have mentioned Arthur, but it was too late.
Molly stared down at the table, twiddling her thumbs. She wasn't sure if Arthur felt like a lucky man. She wasn't sure if Arthur felt anything anymore. She put on a smile though, and said, "Thank you, Harry. You really are a very sweet young man."
Trying to ease the mood, Harry spoke up a little. "You know, Molly, I hear there is a wonderful muggle musical called "Wicked," playing at the West End. Apparently, it is about witches. I was thinking maybe we could take a little break from working around here, and go see it this afternoon. What do you say?"
"Oh, I don't know, Harry. Will there be a lot of muggles there?"
"I'm not sure if there will be a lot of muggles, but everyone there besides you and I will be muggle," Harry answered.
"Harry, I'd love to go, but what if I get upset and forget where I am and use magic?" Molly asked, worried.
"Molly," Harry laughed, "Relax. Just think of it as joking around. Have a little fun."
Molly rolled her eyes at Harry. "Alright, I'll go, I suppose. Under one condition."
"What?" Harry asked.
"You have to manage supper tonight," Molly replied.
"Its a deal, Molly. Now, go and put on your best clothes. Show those muggles what a real witch looks like!" Harry jokingly announced.
"I'll try my best, dear." Molly said, and headed for her room. Molly had several dresses she used to wear when Arthur took her out, but none of them seemed to fit anymore. Molly has lost some weight after the war, and everything in her closet seemed too large. She looked anyway, figuring she could to a reducer spell on whatever she chose to make it smaller. Molly looked through every dress, but settled on a Navy floor length dress with 3/4 sleeves and a v-neck cut. Molly had the dress levitating in front of her, and performed the reducer spell.
Molly put on the dress, and was surprised to see she had gotten the spell right. The dress fit perfectly, tight on the top, and loose on the bottom, just as it had been before. Molly did a quick spell to put her hair up in a bun, getting all the mismanaged hairs swept out of her face. She then dug in her closet and found a satin black pair of pumps to put on, along with a matching clutch. Molly looked in the mirror, and she felt as thought something was missing.
She walked over to her jewelry box and opened it. She wanted to find the perfect necklace, but it was difficult to find one that hadn't been given to her by Arthur. She wanted to enjoy the afternoon, and couldn't bear to have a constant reminder from Arthur hanging around her neck. She finally settled on a necklace the twins had gotten her a few years back for Mothers Day. It was a simple diamond on a silver chain. It wasn't much, but it was from her sons, and she loved it.
Molly sprayed a bit of perfume on and made her way down to the kitchen. Harry was sitting in his tuxedo, drinking his cup of tea, waiting for her. He glanced up and saw Molly standing in the doorway. Never in the eight years that Harry had known Molly had he seen her look so beautiful. He was surprised at how young she looked with her hair pulled off of her face, and was even more surprised by the body she had been hiding under her frumpy clothes. He jumped up from his seat.
"Wow, Molly! You look stunning!" Harry said as he made his way over to her.
"Thank you, Harry. You don't look too bad yourself," Molly replied.
Harry set out his arm and looked at Molly. "Shall we?" he asked, and with that, Molly took Harry's arm, and they apparated to the West End.
When Harry and Molly arrived in front of the theatre, Molly froze in her tracks. "Harry, I don't think I can do this," Molly said.
"Sure you can, Molly," Harry reassured her, "Just breath, relax, and everything will be fine."
Harry and Molly walked over to the box office to purchase their tickets, and then went into the theatre to find their seats. Somehow, Harry had managed to get front fow tickets. Molly sat down and stared up at the stage. "Harry, this is wonderful. Thank you for bringing me here. I'm just so nervous. What if I can't, you know?" Molly said, scared of what would happen if she accidently used magic.
"Listen, Molly. If you feel like you are going to, you know, forget, just squeeze my hand instead. If you get mad about something they say and feel at though you want to send a curse at them, just squeeze my hand. Alright?"
"Okay, Harry," Molly took a deep breath, and the lights dimmed as the show was about to begin. Molly was so nervous, and found her hand squeezing Harry's continuously during the first twenty minutes, until she finally began to relax. Molly was just so happy that the show wasn't awful, that she forgotten that she had left her hand intertwined with Harry's as they both sat and enjoyed the show. At intermission, Molly finally realized that she and Harry had been sitting as they were for an hour, and she quickly rose.
"Harry, dear, I must run to the loo. Be back in two ticks," Molly said, and with that she was off. Harry stayed seated, amazed by how relaxed Molly had gotten. Maybe a day out of the Burrow was exactly what she had needed. Harry sat, thinking about how beautiful Molly looked, and how he had never realized it before. Harry was interrupted from his thoughts as Molly sat down next to him again.
"Enjoying yourself so far, Molly?" Harry asked.
"Yes, I am, actually. At first, I was quite irritated with how these muggles pictured us, but now I just find it humorous. If they only knew," Molly laughed.
"If they only knew" Harry thought to himself. The lights again dimmed and the second act began. Harry noticed that this time, even though Molly was no longer nervous, her hand still managed to find its way into his, and she had woven her fingers into his. Harry was surprised by this action, but he didn't really think twice about it, as he too was enjoying the show.
At the end of the show, Harry and Molly made their way outside the theatre. "That was brilliant! I would have never thought that I would enjoy it so much!" Molly exclaimed.
"Molly, did you enjoy it because it was good, or because at some point you just took it as a big joke?" Harry questioned.
"Harry, a lady never reveals her secrets," Molly joked. She hooked arms with Harry and they began walking down the sidewalk. "Where to now?" Molly asked. "Back to the Burrow? I'll apparate this time..."
"No!" Harry exclaimed. Molly's eyes widened as she jumped back a little. "I mean, no, no. I, um, well, I kind of made other plans for us."
"Oh, really?" Molly asked as she raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, but it is a surprise."
"Harry, you know I don't like surprises," Molly glared at Harry.
"Well, you know how you told me I had to manage supper tonight?" Harry asked. Molly shook her head yes, awaiting what Harry had to say next. "Well, I made us a reservation at a great little restaurant. You're going to love it, Molly, you really will."
"Really? Arthur used to take me to restaurants around here all the time," Molly said calmly. "What is it called?"
"The Burrow," Harry answered, and before Molly could reply, Harry apparated himself and Molly back to the Burrow. Before they left, Harry had enlisted some help to get the Burrow in order, and have a dinner fit royalty waiting for him and Molly when they returned. The kitchen was sparkling clean, the piles of newspapers had been cleared out of the living room, and the dishes, for the first time in ages, had been put away. Harry took Molly's arm and led her through the Burrow, and out the back door. When they reached the garden, Molly noticed a table in the middle of the roses. The table was covered in silver trays and platters, and had two empty chairs and plates waiting to be occupied.
Harry walked Molly over to the table and pulled out her chair for her. "Molly, please, have a seat," Harry said as she helped he pushed her chair in for her.
"Harry. What is this? Its, its, its beautiful and wonderful and.."
"Its supper, Molly," Harry laughed as he made his way to his chair. "You told me to manage supper, and that is exactly what I did."
"Yes, but I wasn't expecting anything quite like this, Harry. And the Burrow, you did that, too?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
"But, why?" Molly asked.
"Do I need a reason, Molly?" Harry asked mischievously.
"No, I suppose not," Molly answered, "But I just don't understand why you went through so much trouble. Some spuds and steak would have been just fine with me. You didn't have to go through all of this trouble."
"But I wanted to, Molly. Don't you understand. How glamorous would it have been for you if you were eating spuds and steak looking like that? Today is a special day, Molly. Today is one of the first days in a long time you have taken any time to enjoy yourself. I wanted to make the day worthwile. You deserve some good things, Molly. Not spuds and steak every day. Sometimes, it is nice to have a little extravagance in life." Harry said, staring Molly deep in the eyes.
"Well, Harry, it looks wonderful. I can't tell you how much this means to me."
"Then don't, Molly. Just dig in and enjoy," Harry laughed.
The two sat at the table, overlooking the soft sunset. They talked about the show and the West End and the meal and how beautiful the sunset was. When they were finished eating, Molly asked. "Would you like some help cleaning up?"
"No. It's all taken care of," Harry answered, as some very friendly pixies came from the front of the Burrow and took care of the mess. Harry got up from his seat, and got out his wand. Suddenly, a soft and gentle piano began to sound from Harry's wand. "May I have this dance?" Harry asked Molly, offering her his hand.
"You may, Harry," Molly answered, taking Harry's hand and coming to her feet. The two moved about the garden slowly, savoring the peace that had been much emjoyed since the war ended. "Thank you for a wonderful evening," Molly said as she rested her head on Harry's chest. "I can't remember the last time I had a night like this. I means the world to me."
"You're welcome, Molly," Harry replied as he continued to lead Molly through the garden. When the song ended, Molly looked up at Harry. She stared deep into his eyes, not knowing what to say or what to do. Suddenly, her head moved up towards Harry's, and she placed a long, sweet kiss on his lips. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see Harry's reaction, in case it wasn't what she was expecting. Harry too, closed his eyes, when Molly suddenly pulled away.
"Harry. I'm so sorry!" Molly exclaimed. "I don't know what came over me."
"Molly, its alright," Harry said, pulling her close to his chest. "Its alright," he whispered, and then he placed a kiss on her head.
Molly looked up at Harry again. This time, she saw something different in Harry's eyes. She saw Harry James Potter, not Ronald's best friend. She saw a man who had created an incredibly romantic evening for her, so romantic that she hadn't even realized it until this moment. She once again put her head up to Harry's, and their lips met in a deep, long, passionate kiss.