AN: Hope you enjoy my little speed-writing challenge. It certainly was...challenging. And if you haven't gone to our profile to check out some of our challenges, you should totally do that. Like...right now.
Seriously. Right after you finish this.
"Mummy, tell me the story again," A very hyper Ginny Weasley begged her mother as she was being put to bed.
Molly gave a soft smile to her daughter, "Which story would you like to hear tonight?"
"The one with you and Daddy."
She chuckled. Always that story. It had been her bedtime story for the last few weeks now.
"Are you sure you don't want to hear another story? I could read you one out of a real book."
"No! Please tell me the Daddy story. It's my favorite."
"Oh fine. As long as you promise to go to sleep when I'm finished."
"I swear."
"Well, alright then. There we were at Uncle Algy's house for Christmas and Daddy looked a bit green…"
"Arthur, will you please stop fidgeting. The entire family will think you are mad."
He dropped the corner of his robe which he had been folding and unfolding for nearly ten minutes and shot me an apologetic glance.
"Sorry Love," He mumbled, his eyes refusing to meet mine.
Something was bothering him, I knew, and I would have questioned him on the matter if the mindless chatter of the room had not been broken by the incessant clinking of glass.
"I would like to thank you all for coming," A too peppy Cecily announced loudly. Uncle Algy would have made the speech, I'm sure, but he was probably far too intoxicated for any kind of formal speech-making, so his young girlfriend took over, "It is lovely being surrounded by loved ones this holiday. So, cheers to family, by blood and by choice. And Happy Christmas everyone!"
I clapped my hands and looked over with a wide grin to my boyfriend. It was our first Christmas together and I had hoped that he would be just a bit more enthusiastic.
"Arthur Weasley, what the devil is wrong with you tonight? You have not touched your food, you have barely said two words and you won't so much as look me in the eyes."
Arthur sighed and grasped my hand, "I am feeling ill, actually. Will you walk outside with me?"
I sputtered, "It's snowing outside. I hardly think that you should be strolling about if you are ill."
His eyes found the ground and again and he muttered something about the room being too stuffy and needing fresh air before he pulled me outside with him.
"Arthur, you didn't give me a chance to find my coat," I complained as soon as the icy air hit my skin.
He shrugged his own from his shoulders and passed it to me wordlessly.
I stared at him for a long minute and sighed, "You're not sick at all, Arthur. I know you much too well to believe that. Now, what is bothering you? Is it something I've said?"
When he looked at me a look of steely determination was in his eyes, "Nothing is bothering me, dear. I was just nervous but I'm not anymore. I know now that there is no better time. Because I love you and I will never love anyone else as long as I live like I love you-"
"I love you too, Arthur. But what exactly is going-"
"Don't interrupt me, please. I have to get this out. I have known that I wanted to marry you since the day I met you. I know we are young and we haven't been together for long, but I am more sure of you than I have ever been before. Molly Rose Weasley, will you marry me?"