4th Year
Molly sat in the empty Quidditch Arena, staring out into the field. She held a book in her lap: her textbook. She would not open it, for she hated rational, factual thought. Why face the facts, when dreams are so much more beautiful? Molly reached up a bony finger to curl around her red hair, but put it down. Her hair was ugly and stringy and thin. Her face was bony and her blue eyes always misted and far off. Molly got low marks in everything. Everything. She didn't do well in anything. It's not that she was dumb or anything, it was just that she didn't try. She challenged Dumbledore's rationalizing in Charms and inquired too much about why they made Potions in Potion class. She barely passed her first three years at Hogwarts.
And now, she was a Fourth Year, much despised by the teachers, except Dumbledore. Dumbledore always reacted to her questions and arguments with fair arguments of his own. And when he was defeated he nodded to her and gave Gryffindor one point. The other students hated it when Dumbledore and Molly would debate because it usually took up so much classtime, they were overloaded with homework. She was taunted and teased by the people in higher years and had no friends except her wandering imagination and of course, her crow, Jellybean.
Most people thought she was insane, naming a crow Jellybean and challenging teachers so that every day after lessons, she had detention. She didn't give a damn what anyone thought. She didn't care what people said about her behind her back, or even to her face. She had grown up in an orphanage run by a witch. She only knew her parents were pureblooded. Pureblood. It disgusted her! She would've liked to be muggle-born. It would've given her all the more reason to discover the world of magic instead of being told 'You are a witch.' when you were two. Molly stroked the crow that perched on her shoulder. It shook its feathered head and flew away from her.
"I wish I could be like you, Mister Jellybean." She said to him. "I wish I could fly away. The world is such a big place! It seams a crime just to sit here in one place all the time!"
~-~-~-
Arthur Weasley smoothed back his red hair that had gotten quite long and brushed over his eyes quite often. He kept it long because he knew that cutting it would immediatly constitute him as a loser. As the Quidditch Captain, one had to keep a high social status. He had high marks in everything and had practically the entire fifth year and fourth year as his friends. He was cocky, but had a right to be. He was extremely good looking, according to all of the girls and prefect and a Quidditch player and intelligent. His record was perfect, not one detention, ever.
Life was good.
He walked alongside his friend, Seth towards the Quidditch Pitch. Although he loved Quidditch, he hated Quidditch Practice. There was always a girl sitting in the stands, Molly, was her name. She would be heading out of the Pitch when they were going in for practice and it was a routine that the boys on the team would taunt her. Arthur did, also, of course, what would they think if he didn't? She was a loser. She was an outcast. She was a freak! She didn't have any friends, except for that thing she called Jellybean. Honestly, a crow named Jellybean? She didn't fit in anywhere. But, for some strange reason, whenever she picked up the books that were so selfishly knocked from her long delicate fingers, he felt a powerful guilt consuming him.
"--bloody idiots, that's what they are! Who pays these guys anyway?" Seth was saying.
"I don't know." Arthur said, shrugging.
"You okay, Arthur? You look like you've just taken a dive off the deep end?"
"Ho ho!" Arthur said. "Arthur Weasley does not dive until he is sure there are people to marvel at his wonderful diving position!"
"You make no sense, Weasley." Seth said, shaking his head.
"And that, my friend, is why everyone loves me." Arthur smoothed back his bangs.
"Don't look now, but here comes Dolly." Seth said, elbowing him.
"Her name is Molly." Arthur said autmatically.
Seth didn't seem to hear him. "Well, well, little Polly. Didn't we tell you that you're not allowed in this Quidditch Pitch?"
"I'm leaving." Molly said, looking at Seth straight in the eye.
Molly was stupid. Plain and simple. She had no respect for people in a higher social status. She could look at the Head Boy and tell him that he was wrong with no fear of being shoved into the toilet. She didn't understand what went on around her, which is why everyone regarded her as stupid. She would talk to First Years and Seventh Years in the same voice, in the same tone, in the same way. She just didn't give a damn.
Seth glared at her.
"You can't talk to the Quidditch Team Seeker like that, little Polly." He knocked the lone textbook out of her hand and onto the grass.
Molly looked at it for a moment on the ground and then picked it up, brushing it off. Seth smirked and then knocked it out of her hands again. Molly looked at him curiously and then straight at Arthur. Her blue clouded eyes stared straight into his gray ones. And he felt something. Electricity? Hate? Anger? Pity? Her eyes held so much pain, so much suffering, so much that a girl her age should not have experienced, something that no one should experience, ever. But, even though the fact the pain they felt was so hideous, they were the most beautiful eyes Arthur had ever seen.
He slowly bent down to retrieve her book for her. He felt the eyes of his team mates burn into his back as he handed it to her. She just stared at him as if he was playing an awful joke. He felt the terrible guilt swelling inside of him, just as it had when he himself had knocked the books out of her hands the week before. She put her hand on it, as if testing it. Something strange shot into him. A decision. Would he let her have the book and become humiliated in front of the entire school, or would he let his pride reign over?
He let go of the book and it again dropped to the ground. Molly looked betrayed. Her blue eyes, so bright and so blazing flashed nothing close to anger, but surprise. And the horrible guilt kept swelling within him. Molly quickly picked up the book and shuffled out of the arena. Arthur ran his fingers through his hair and turned to face his teamates and laughed.
"What a dope!"
~-~-~-
Why? Why did she feel so humble around him? He was only another jock, just like the rest of them. He was good looking and perfect. He was like the rest of them, mean and uncaring, pride reigning over common manners. Molly shook her head and retreated to the Great Hall, where a few students sat playing chess or reading. Molly had self esteem issues. She had to push herself to talk to Seventh Years or First Years, it did not matter, she felt that they were all inevitably better then her, no matter what she did. Molly ran a hand over her red stringy hair. She knew what she looked like, she had a mirror. She knew herself to be ugly. She shook her head and sat next to a few fellow Gryffindors to watch their game of Wizard's chess.
"Hello, Bolly." one said, without looking up.
Molly did not respond, but looked at the Chess pieces. Chess was so pointless! So many rules, strategies and then what? If you won, then what? You've captured the king, good for you, but then what? Would you rule the empire? Chess had no room for imagination. Molly grew tired of the game, for the two were giggling feebly, making a soap opera out of the chess game.
"No, no, the Queen has gone and had an affair with the knight..." one was saying as she left the game to go into the courtyard.
There were only a few students in the courtyard, mingling about, pretending to study so that the teachers looking out their window would not assign them extra homework. Molly seldom did homework, and the many failing grades were a detriment to her grade. She sat down on one of the stone benches, covered with vines. No one sat here during the day, for it was rumored as the Love Bench. At night, couples would sneak out after curfew and come to sit on this bench. Then, they would run off and elope. It was ridiculous, really. Molly sat here during the day because she knew that no one would even dare to go near her, much less sit next to her; especially while she was on this bench.
Safety at last.
~-~-~
Arthur felt bad about Molly. Why didn't he just give the books back to her like a gentleman? Hadn't he been raised better then that? Honorable Purebloods, the Weasley's were called. It was said that Helga Hufflepuff was indeed a Pureblood, but looked found that the most willing to work were muggle-borns. Arthur shook his head, thanking the Sorting Hat, silently, that he wasn't placed in Slytherin.
Arthur smoothed back his bangs again and left the practice early, saying he had a huge Potions exam the next day and needed to study. He never studied, he just did well. He never paid attention in class, he just did well. He wanted to find Molly and apologize for the book. She never did anything to him or anyone as a matter of fact, so why torment her? And he knew, if he didn't find her and apologize, then he knew that he would see those piercing blue eyes in his sleep. They were the color when you turned away from the sun at sunset and looked towards the darkest portion of the sky, not quite a black, but a deep, clear blue.
Arthur knew where to find her, she was always sitting at the Love Bench, by herself. Why, he didn't know, maybe because no person in their right mind would sit next to a girl on the love bench in clear daylight. Maybe because no one really liked her and the Love Bench was well away from the other Concrete Benches. And he saw her, she was there, her thin hair clinging to her head and her eyes closed, as if she was in deep thought. It was strange, she was always looking down. He hated it, her eyes were so beautiful, why not show them to the world?
"Is anyone sitting here?" He asked her. Damn, damn damn! he thought to himself. That was the cheesiest thing ever said! Stupid Arthur! She's only another girl, but how come I feel so damned strange around her?
Molly opened her eyes abruptly and turned to him. She looked to her left and her right and finally back to Arthur, a look of pure shock in her beautiful eyes.
"M-me?" She whispered.
"I mean, if you don't want company..." Arthur said, his ears turning red as he looked away.
"No one is sitting here. No one ever does." Molly said softly.
Arthur sat down next to her, still in his Quidditch Robes. Did he smell like sweat?
"Are they afraid of me?" She asked him.
"What?"
"Them. Everyone. Are they afraid of me? Is that why they don't talk to me. Am I intimidating, Mister Arthur?"
"Don't call me that." Arthur said, smiling. And for some reason, it felt like he was with his best friend, someone he could trust with anything. Seth was okay, but he was, just different. "Call me Arthur."
"Arthur." She repeated slowly, as if the name were in a foreign tongue. "Are they afraid?"
"They're not afraid." He relaxed. "You're just a little different."
"I am?" She asked.
"Well, you have to question everything. The girls say you get up way before them just so they don't see you dress." He paused. "And you always keep your head down. Why is that?"
"Oh." She blushed, her pale face turning a beautiful pink. "Don't you know?"
"Don't I know what?"
"I know what I look like." She said. "I'm ugly. If I keep my head down, then no one will notice me, and if no one notices me, then no one will notice how I look."
"You really think that?" Arthur asked her, looking at her face. She was pale, and her eyes stood out. Her hair was thin and stringy, but if it were combed, it would've been full and wavy.
"Don't look at me." She whispered, tentatively, covering her face.
The guilt swelled. He had offended her? She got up and ran away, her face in her hands. Arthur almost went after her, but decided against it. His mind was definately not at ease now. Would she ever talk to him again? He hated to admit it, but when she talked to him, it didn't feel like it did when he was amidst a group of six or seven of his friends, but with someone who would truly understand. He took the textbook she had left behind and held it in his lap. Carefully, he opened it and inhaled the scent within.
Lavender.
~-~-~-
Arthur spilled his heart out to her, after that. Every day, after Quidditch Practice, he sat beside her on that bench, just talking to her. She would listen quietly and take it all in. And for the first time in his life, Arthur felt that someone was actually listening to him and understanding.
"Do I bore you?" he asked her.
"Not at all." Molly said.
"Oh." Was all he said.
"What's wrong?" She asked him.
"Nothing."
"Don't lie."
"I'm not lying."
"Yes you are."
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"Fine!" Arthur snapped. "I'm just thinking about my parents, is all."
"And that makes you angry?" Molly asked him, blinking.
"I mean, they're great people and all, it's just, I don't know. Whenever I acheive something, they don't really seem to care. They never tell me how proud they are." Arthur said, shaking his head. "But I guess they are proud, even if they don't say it, right?"
"I would not know." Molly said quietly.
"I mean, it just makes me mad when they just nod their head and don't even say anything when I tell them something really great! I mean, it just makes me mad. Don't you ever get so mad at your parents that you just want to--" he paused. "to I don't know, run away?"
"Mad at my parents?" Molly said. "I grew up in an orphanage. I would not know."
"Oh." Arthur said, feeling deep sympathy for Molly. "I'm really sorry."
"Don't be." Molly said, giving him a small smile. "I guess, when they gave me up, there must've been something wrong with me when I was a baby. Maybe they knew I was going to grow up and be ugly and stupid."
"Hey, that's not true." He said, more then anything, wanting to comfort her. "Maybe they just couldn't afford to take care of you, is all."
"Yeah, but Arthur!" Molly said, close to tears. "When parents love their kid, they find money to pay for their kid, because they love their kid and they want to take care of it! And, if I ever had a child and didn't have any money, I would never ever put it in an orphanage!"
They both said nothing for a few minutes. Molly, an orphan? She never showed any signs of it. Weren't orphans supposed to be full of anger and greif towards their parents? Weren't they supposed to be studious?
Molly wiped her eyes.
"Sometimes I cry." She said. "And all I really want is for someone to hug me and tell me its alright. A friend, a parent, a teacher, I don't care, just someone." She shook her head.
Grabbing her textbook, she ran into the school, leaving Arthur standing there.
~-~-~-
"Hey, man!" Seth said, plopping himself next to him in Charms. "Seems like I never get to see you anymore."
"Yeah." Arthur mumbled.
"Hey, there's this really insane rumor going around the school." Seth said, taking out his wand and laying it on his desk.
Professor Dumbledore started talking. He was explaining something about levitation spells, but Arthur was listening to Seth. What rumors? He'd been with Molly and awful lot, and didn't have time to listen in on the conversations his girl friends had been having.
"They say you hang out with that Polly--"
"It's Molly." Arthur said, a strange sort of anger rising in him.
"Right, Dolly." Seth said, waving his hand. "Anyway, the rumor is you've been hanging out with her. I keep telling them its not true, but everyone keeps claiming its true! Insane, right?"
Arthur said nothing.
"I mean, Polly's such a nut case. She's so damned ugly! Stringy hair, skinny ass face. Looks like a skeleton, really freaks me out, you know. It freaks everyone out. And what a dummy! I mean, nobody would want to hang out with that ugly bitch. Hey, I heard her parents abandoned her. I don't blame them. I mean, what parents could take that ugly little--"
Seth was on the floor, grabbing his nose, the blood pouring down his face. Arthur had knocked over his seat and was standing over him, panting. Every pair of eyes was on Arthur.
"Shut the fuck up!" Arthur said. "You don't even know her! You don't even know what she's like you shallow little jerk. Your such a little bastard, you know that?"
Seth had gotten up, and the blood still flowed from his nose. He looked hard at Arthur. And then he smiled.
"Good man, Weasley. Take away her virginity, take away her purity and ruin her for life. I like how you deal with the oucasts. Wish I'd thought of that." Seth smiled.
"I'll kill you, you stupid manipulative bastard!" Arthur was yelling, his ears red. "Don't you go near her, don't you dare touch her! I'll kill you!"
Arthur lunged at Seth, but was held back by David Finnigan. "Calm down, mate." He was saying.
"Detention for both of you." Dumbledore said. "And fifty points from Gryffindor."
"But Professor--"
"Silence." Professor said. "Now, kindly sit down and let me continue this lesson or you may go and settle your argument with the Headmaster."
~-~-~-
Arthur sat in Charm's class, angrily writing an essay on the importance of Negotiation. It wasn't his fault. It was all that dummy, Seth's fault. Arthur sighed and tried to think of something. He had the dictionary on his desk turned to Negotiation. He flipped it backwards. Love. He turned to the word Love. How ironic.
"A strong affection." Arthur whispered to himself
He felt his ears turning red as he thought of Molly sitting on the stone bench all by herself, waiting for him. Would she be waiting? Was he just imposing on her silence when he talked to her every day? And more importantly, why in God's name did he think of her when he read the definition for-- God forbid -- love! He was not in love with Molly. She wasn't very bright. She had stringy hair. Not the type of girl Arthur hung out with. But then, why did he feel such a strong affection towards her? Was it her bony face? The fact that someone was as pitiful as him when it came to relationships with parents? Hell, she didn't even have any! Or, was it the way that she listened, when most of the people he talked to would turn their head and snicker.
He caught himself smiling.
~-~-~-
It was well after dinner when he finally made his way out of detention. He knew that Molly still wasn't waiting at the Love Bench, but he went to check, just for the hell of it. And if she wasn't there, then he could spend sometime by himself, just thinking. It had been a while since he'd done that. It was like he had to be surrounded by people all the time.
She was still there.
"Sorry I'm late." He said. "I had detention."
"From who?"
"Dumbledore." Arthur answered, sighing. "I missed Quidditch Practice, Dinner and everything."
"Why'd Dumbledore give you detention? Dumbledore never gives detention." Molly said.
"It was over something really stupid." Arthur said. "Just forget about it."
"Arthur Weasley!" Molly said. "You've never gotten detention ever in your whole entire life! Don't you tell me, 'Just forget about it!' "
"I was in a fight, there, happy?" Arthur said, his ears turning red in the dark.
"Over what?"
"Man, what is this?" He asked her. "An interrogation? Listen, I'm really pissed off right now and I'd appreciate it if you layed off the interrogation, okay Molly?"
Molly was quiet for a minute.
"I know what they say about me. Everyone says it about me."
"Listen, I'd love to wallow with you in self pity, but I just don't have that kind of brain damage." Arthur said, begginning to feel angry at her.
"I'm sorry I got you in trouble." She said.
"You did not get me in trouble!" Arthur said, running his hand through his hair. "It was that jerk, Seth."
"But you defended me." Molly said. "I'm not worth defending."
"What are you, psychic or something?" Arthur said. "And you didn't hear what he said about you."
"Why do you care?" Molly suddenly cried out. "And why do you come here every day? Don't you have some other friends to be with? Don't you have any other outcasts you can harass? You're a terrible person, Arthur Weasley! And to think, I thought you really cared!"
"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked her.
"I know your type, your friends tell me all the time." Molly said, biting her tongue to hold back the tears.
"What do they say to you?"
"Don't play stupid, Arthur Weasley!" Molly said. "I know that you're just using me. I don't know quite what you want from me, but I can gaurantee, no one's ever gained anyting from me. So why don't you just leave, okay?"
"Molly, I'm not--"
"Yes you are!" Molly shrieked, the tears pouring down her cheeks. "You're just going to make me trust you and then you're going to start all of these rumors and then you'll leave me alone again! Have you ever wondered why I don't have any friends? It's becuase that's all friends are, Arthur! They just use and then throw you away when they don't need you! Just like everyone!"
And then Arthur felt her pain. Molly had been abandoned and had been thrust into a world in which there was no one to hug her when she needed hugging. All she could do was watch all of the other children be hugged. Her pain was so deep and her suffering so innocent, Arthur felt something unfamiliar grow inside of him. It wasn't pity. It was far from it. It was a deep caring. A deep want to make her life better. A deep desire to embrace her weak frame and make her stronger.
Molly stood there, basked in the light of twilight, tiny body shaking with sobs. Arthur excepted her to run away into the school, but she didn't. Her quiet pain stood before him. Everything stood before him.
His arms acted by themselves. It was as if his brain had stopped functioning and the emotions took over his body. He felt Molly's trembling body against his.
"I would never, ever, ever in a million and one years, do anything to hurt you, Molly." He meant every single word of it.
"Then go away." She whispered. "Don't think I don't know it, Arthur. Every teenage couple breaks up. It's proven. I don't want my heart to get broken. So go."
"I'm sorry." Arthur half laughed. "I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Well, you're clinging to my waist."
~-~-
Silently, her tears fell on her pale cheeks. Arthur was doing his best to stop the tears from his own eyes as he stared at Molly. And as they stood on the platform, he knew that he would see Molly in a few months and that all would be well. But, he missed her already. It was horribly irrational that he should, but he did. He smiled to be brave. Not for himself, but for Molly.
"Is this goodbye?" She asked him.
"Of course not." Arthur said, smoothing back his bangs.
"Is this the end?" She asked him.
"Hey, listen to me." He said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I think that this is far from the end, Molly."
"What do you mean?" Molly asked him.
"I think it's only the beginning." He smiled.
Molly smiled back at him, her pale cheeks suddenly filling with a light pink.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, smiling. And then, in that one moment, he knew one thing was certain. He was going to marry this girl that stood before him. He didn't care how, he didn't care when, he just knew he was going to. And he would make her keep her head up high and face the world head on. Of course, he wouldn't tell her right now. No, he would wait. But one thing was for sure. As he watched her walk down that platform to the awaiting bus, he smiled.
He loved her.
Molly sat in the empty Quidditch Arena, staring out into the field. She held a book in her lap: her textbook. She would not open it, for she hated rational, factual thought. Why face the facts, when dreams are so much more beautiful? Molly reached up a bony finger to curl around her red hair, but put it down. Her hair was ugly and stringy and thin. Her face was bony and her blue eyes always misted and far off. Molly got low marks in everything. Everything. She didn't do well in anything. It's not that she was dumb or anything, it was just that she didn't try. She challenged Dumbledore's rationalizing in Charms and inquired too much about why they made Potions in Potion class. She barely passed her first three years at Hogwarts.
And now, she was a Fourth Year, much despised by the teachers, except Dumbledore. Dumbledore always reacted to her questions and arguments with fair arguments of his own. And when he was defeated he nodded to her and gave Gryffindor one point. The other students hated it when Dumbledore and Molly would debate because it usually took up so much classtime, they were overloaded with homework. She was taunted and teased by the people in higher years and had no friends except her wandering imagination and of course, her crow, Jellybean.
Most people thought she was insane, naming a crow Jellybean and challenging teachers so that every day after lessons, she had detention. She didn't give a damn what anyone thought. She didn't care what people said about her behind her back, or even to her face. She had grown up in an orphanage run by a witch. She only knew her parents were pureblooded. Pureblood. It disgusted her! She would've liked to be muggle-born. It would've given her all the more reason to discover the world of magic instead of being told 'You are a witch.' when you were two. Molly stroked the crow that perched on her shoulder. It shook its feathered head and flew away from her.
"I wish I could be like you, Mister Jellybean." She said to him. "I wish I could fly away. The world is such a big place! It seams a crime just to sit here in one place all the time!"
~-~-~-
Arthur Weasley smoothed back his red hair that had gotten quite long and brushed over his eyes quite often. He kept it long because he knew that cutting it would immediatly constitute him as a loser. As the Quidditch Captain, one had to keep a high social status. He had high marks in everything and had practically the entire fifth year and fourth year as his friends. He was cocky, but had a right to be. He was extremely good looking, according to all of the girls and prefect and a Quidditch player and intelligent. His record was perfect, not one detention, ever.
Life was good.
He walked alongside his friend, Seth towards the Quidditch Pitch. Although he loved Quidditch, he hated Quidditch Practice. There was always a girl sitting in the stands, Molly, was her name. She would be heading out of the Pitch when they were going in for practice and it was a routine that the boys on the team would taunt her. Arthur did, also, of course, what would they think if he didn't? She was a loser. She was an outcast. She was a freak! She didn't have any friends, except for that thing she called Jellybean. Honestly, a crow named Jellybean? She didn't fit in anywhere. But, for some strange reason, whenever she picked up the books that were so selfishly knocked from her long delicate fingers, he felt a powerful guilt consuming him.
"--bloody idiots, that's what they are! Who pays these guys anyway?" Seth was saying.
"I don't know." Arthur said, shrugging.
"You okay, Arthur? You look like you've just taken a dive off the deep end?"
"Ho ho!" Arthur said. "Arthur Weasley does not dive until he is sure there are people to marvel at his wonderful diving position!"
"You make no sense, Weasley." Seth said, shaking his head.
"And that, my friend, is why everyone loves me." Arthur smoothed back his bangs.
"Don't look now, but here comes Dolly." Seth said, elbowing him.
"Her name is Molly." Arthur said autmatically.
Seth didn't seem to hear him. "Well, well, little Polly. Didn't we tell you that you're not allowed in this Quidditch Pitch?"
"I'm leaving." Molly said, looking at Seth straight in the eye.
Molly was stupid. Plain and simple. She had no respect for people in a higher social status. She could look at the Head Boy and tell him that he was wrong with no fear of being shoved into the toilet. She didn't understand what went on around her, which is why everyone regarded her as stupid. She would talk to First Years and Seventh Years in the same voice, in the same tone, in the same way. She just didn't give a damn.
Seth glared at her.
"You can't talk to the Quidditch Team Seeker like that, little Polly." He knocked the lone textbook out of her hand and onto the grass.
Molly looked at it for a moment on the ground and then picked it up, brushing it off. Seth smirked and then knocked it out of her hands again. Molly looked at him curiously and then straight at Arthur. Her blue clouded eyes stared straight into his gray ones. And he felt something. Electricity? Hate? Anger? Pity? Her eyes held so much pain, so much suffering, so much that a girl her age should not have experienced, something that no one should experience, ever. But, even though the fact the pain they felt was so hideous, they were the most beautiful eyes Arthur had ever seen.
He slowly bent down to retrieve her book for her. He felt the eyes of his team mates burn into his back as he handed it to her. She just stared at him as if he was playing an awful joke. He felt the terrible guilt swelling inside of him, just as it had when he himself had knocked the books out of her hands the week before. She put her hand on it, as if testing it. Something strange shot into him. A decision. Would he let her have the book and become humiliated in front of the entire school, or would he let his pride reign over?
He let go of the book and it again dropped to the ground. Molly looked betrayed. Her blue eyes, so bright and so blazing flashed nothing close to anger, but surprise. And the horrible guilt kept swelling within him. Molly quickly picked up the book and shuffled out of the arena. Arthur ran his fingers through his hair and turned to face his teamates and laughed.
"What a dope!"
~-~-~-
Why? Why did she feel so humble around him? He was only another jock, just like the rest of them. He was good looking and perfect. He was like the rest of them, mean and uncaring, pride reigning over common manners. Molly shook her head and retreated to the Great Hall, where a few students sat playing chess or reading. Molly had self esteem issues. She had to push herself to talk to Seventh Years or First Years, it did not matter, she felt that they were all inevitably better then her, no matter what she did. Molly ran a hand over her red stringy hair. She knew what she looked like, she had a mirror. She knew herself to be ugly. She shook her head and sat next to a few fellow Gryffindors to watch their game of Wizard's chess.
"Hello, Bolly." one said, without looking up.
Molly did not respond, but looked at the Chess pieces. Chess was so pointless! So many rules, strategies and then what? If you won, then what? You've captured the king, good for you, but then what? Would you rule the empire? Chess had no room for imagination. Molly grew tired of the game, for the two were giggling feebly, making a soap opera out of the chess game.
"No, no, the Queen has gone and had an affair with the knight..." one was saying as she left the game to go into the courtyard.
There were only a few students in the courtyard, mingling about, pretending to study so that the teachers looking out their window would not assign them extra homework. Molly seldom did homework, and the many failing grades were a detriment to her grade. She sat down on one of the stone benches, covered with vines. No one sat here during the day, for it was rumored as the Love Bench. At night, couples would sneak out after curfew and come to sit on this bench. Then, they would run off and elope. It was ridiculous, really. Molly sat here during the day because she knew that no one would even dare to go near her, much less sit next to her; especially while she was on this bench.
Safety at last.
~-~-~
Arthur felt bad about Molly. Why didn't he just give the books back to her like a gentleman? Hadn't he been raised better then that? Honorable Purebloods, the Weasley's were called. It was said that Helga Hufflepuff was indeed a Pureblood, but looked found that the most willing to work were muggle-borns. Arthur shook his head, thanking the Sorting Hat, silently, that he wasn't placed in Slytherin.
Arthur smoothed back his bangs again and left the practice early, saying he had a huge Potions exam the next day and needed to study. He never studied, he just did well. He never paid attention in class, he just did well. He wanted to find Molly and apologize for the book. She never did anything to him or anyone as a matter of fact, so why torment her? And he knew, if he didn't find her and apologize, then he knew that he would see those piercing blue eyes in his sleep. They were the color when you turned away from the sun at sunset and looked towards the darkest portion of the sky, not quite a black, but a deep, clear blue.
Arthur knew where to find her, she was always sitting at the Love Bench, by herself. Why, he didn't know, maybe because no person in their right mind would sit next to a girl on the love bench in clear daylight. Maybe because no one really liked her and the Love Bench was well away from the other Concrete Benches. And he saw her, she was there, her thin hair clinging to her head and her eyes closed, as if she was in deep thought. It was strange, she was always looking down. He hated it, her eyes were so beautiful, why not show them to the world?
"Is anyone sitting here?" He asked her. Damn, damn damn! he thought to himself. That was the cheesiest thing ever said! Stupid Arthur! She's only another girl, but how come I feel so damned strange around her?
Molly opened her eyes abruptly and turned to him. She looked to her left and her right and finally back to Arthur, a look of pure shock in her beautiful eyes.
"M-me?" She whispered.
"I mean, if you don't want company..." Arthur said, his ears turning red as he looked away.
"No one is sitting here. No one ever does." Molly said softly.
Arthur sat down next to her, still in his Quidditch Robes. Did he smell like sweat?
"Are they afraid of me?" She asked him.
"What?"
"Them. Everyone. Are they afraid of me? Is that why they don't talk to me. Am I intimidating, Mister Arthur?"
"Don't call me that." Arthur said, smiling. And for some reason, it felt like he was with his best friend, someone he could trust with anything. Seth was okay, but he was, just different. "Call me Arthur."
"Arthur." She repeated slowly, as if the name were in a foreign tongue. "Are they afraid?"
"They're not afraid." He relaxed. "You're just a little different."
"I am?" She asked.
"Well, you have to question everything. The girls say you get up way before them just so they don't see you dress." He paused. "And you always keep your head down. Why is that?"
"Oh." She blushed, her pale face turning a beautiful pink. "Don't you know?"
"Don't I know what?"
"I know what I look like." She said. "I'm ugly. If I keep my head down, then no one will notice me, and if no one notices me, then no one will notice how I look."
"You really think that?" Arthur asked her, looking at her face. She was pale, and her eyes stood out. Her hair was thin and stringy, but if it were combed, it would've been full and wavy.
"Don't look at me." She whispered, tentatively, covering her face.
The guilt swelled. He had offended her? She got up and ran away, her face in her hands. Arthur almost went after her, but decided against it. His mind was definately not at ease now. Would she ever talk to him again? He hated to admit it, but when she talked to him, it didn't feel like it did when he was amidst a group of six or seven of his friends, but with someone who would truly understand. He took the textbook she had left behind and held it in his lap. Carefully, he opened it and inhaled the scent within.
Lavender.
~-~-~-
Arthur spilled his heart out to her, after that. Every day, after Quidditch Practice, he sat beside her on that bench, just talking to her. She would listen quietly and take it all in. And for the first time in his life, Arthur felt that someone was actually listening to him and understanding.
"Do I bore you?" he asked her.
"Not at all." Molly said.
"Oh." Was all he said.
"What's wrong?" She asked him.
"Nothing."
"Don't lie."
"I'm not lying."
"Yes you are."
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"Fine!" Arthur snapped. "I'm just thinking about my parents, is all."
"And that makes you angry?" Molly asked him, blinking.
"I mean, they're great people and all, it's just, I don't know. Whenever I acheive something, they don't really seem to care. They never tell me how proud they are." Arthur said, shaking his head. "But I guess they are proud, even if they don't say it, right?"
"I would not know." Molly said quietly.
"I mean, it just makes me mad when they just nod their head and don't even say anything when I tell them something really great! I mean, it just makes me mad. Don't you ever get so mad at your parents that you just want to--" he paused. "to I don't know, run away?"
"Mad at my parents?" Molly said. "I grew up in an orphanage. I would not know."
"Oh." Arthur said, feeling deep sympathy for Molly. "I'm really sorry."
"Don't be." Molly said, giving him a small smile. "I guess, when they gave me up, there must've been something wrong with me when I was a baby. Maybe they knew I was going to grow up and be ugly and stupid."
"Hey, that's not true." He said, more then anything, wanting to comfort her. "Maybe they just couldn't afford to take care of you, is all."
"Yeah, but Arthur!" Molly said, close to tears. "When parents love their kid, they find money to pay for their kid, because they love their kid and they want to take care of it! And, if I ever had a child and didn't have any money, I would never ever put it in an orphanage!"
They both said nothing for a few minutes. Molly, an orphan? She never showed any signs of it. Weren't orphans supposed to be full of anger and greif towards their parents? Weren't they supposed to be studious?
Molly wiped her eyes.
"Sometimes I cry." She said. "And all I really want is for someone to hug me and tell me its alright. A friend, a parent, a teacher, I don't care, just someone." She shook her head.
Grabbing her textbook, she ran into the school, leaving Arthur standing there.
~-~-~-
"Hey, man!" Seth said, plopping himself next to him in Charms. "Seems like I never get to see you anymore."
"Yeah." Arthur mumbled.
"Hey, there's this really insane rumor going around the school." Seth said, taking out his wand and laying it on his desk.
Professor Dumbledore started talking. He was explaining something about levitation spells, but Arthur was listening to Seth. What rumors? He'd been with Molly and awful lot, and didn't have time to listen in on the conversations his girl friends had been having.
"They say you hang out with that Polly--"
"It's Molly." Arthur said, a strange sort of anger rising in him.
"Right, Dolly." Seth said, waving his hand. "Anyway, the rumor is you've been hanging out with her. I keep telling them its not true, but everyone keeps claiming its true! Insane, right?"
Arthur said nothing.
"I mean, Polly's such a nut case. She's so damned ugly! Stringy hair, skinny ass face. Looks like a skeleton, really freaks me out, you know. It freaks everyone out. And what a dummy! I mean, nobody would want to hang out with that ugly bitch. Hey, I heard her parents abandoned her. I don't blame them. I mean, what parents could take that ugly little--"
Seth was on the floor, grabbing his nose, the blood pouring down his face. Arthur had knocked over his seat and was standing over him, panting. Every pair of eyes was on Arthur.
"Shut the fuck up!" Arthur said. "You don't even know her! You don't even know what she's like you shallow little jerk. Your such a little bastard, you know that?"
Seth had gotten up, and the blood still flowed from his nose. He looked hard at Arthur. And then he smiled.
"Good man, Weasley. Take away her virginity, take away her purity and ruin her for life. I like how you deal with the oucasts. Wish I'd thought of that." Seth smiled.
"I'll kill you, you stupid manipulative bastard!" Arthur was yelling, his ears red. "Don't you go near her, don't you dare touch her! I'll kill you!"
Arthur lunged at Seth, but was held back by David Finnigan. "Calm down, mate." He was saying.
"Detention for both of you." Dumbledore said. "And fifty points from Gryffindor."
"But Professor--"
"Silence." Professor said. "Now, kindly sit down and let me continue this lesson or you may go and settle your argument with the Headmaster."
~-~-~-
Arthur sat in Charm's class, angrily writing an essay on the importance of Negotiation. It wasn't his fault. It was all that dummy, Seth's fault. Arthur sighed and tried to think of something. He had the dictionary on his desk turned to Negotiation. He flipped it backwards. Love. He turned to the word Love. How ironic.
"A strong affection." Arthur whispered to himself
He felt his ears turning red as he thought of Molly sitting on the stone bench all by herself, waiting for him. Would she be waiting? Was he just imposing on her silence when he talked to her every day? And more importantly, why in God's name did he think of her when he read the definition for-- God forbid -- love! He was not in love with Molly. She wasn't very bright. She had stringy hair. Not the type of girl Arthur hung out with. But then, why did he feel such a strong affection towards her? Was it her bony face? The fact that someone was as pitiful as him when it came to relationships with parents? Hell, she didn't even have any! Or, was it the way that she listened, when most of the people he talked to would turn their head and snicker.
He caught himself smiling.
~-~-~-
It was well after dinner when he finally made his way out of detention. He knew that Molly still wasn't waiting at the Love Bench, but he went to check, just for the hell of it. And if she wasn't there, then he could spend sometime by himself, just thinking. It had been a while since he'd done that. It was like he had to be surrounded by people all the time.
She was still there.
"Sorry I'm late." He said. "I had detention."
"From who?"
"Dumbledore." Arthur answered, sighing. "I missed Quidditch Practice, Dinner and everything."
"Why'd Dumbledore give you detention? Dumbledore never gives detention." Molly said.
"It was over something really stupid." Arthur said. "Just forget about it."
"Arthur Weasley!" Molly said. "You've never gotten detention ever in your whole entire life! Don't you tell me, 'Just forget about it!' "
"I was in a fight, there, happy?" Arthur said, his ears turning red in the dark.
"Over what?"
"Man, what is this?" He asked her. "An interrogation? Listen, I'm really pissed off right now and I'd appreciate it if you layed off the interrogation, okay Molly?"
Molly was quiet for a minute.
"I know what they say about me. Everyone says it about me."
"Listen, I'd love to wallow with you in self pity, but I just don't have that kind of brain damage." Arthur said, begginning to feel angry at her.
"I'm sorry I got you in trouble." She said.
"You did not get me in trouble!" Arthur said, running his hand through his hair. "It was that jerk, Seth."
"But you defended me." Molly said. "I'm not worth defending."
"What are you, psychic or something?" Arthur said. "And you didn't hear what he said about you."
"Why do you care?" Molly suddenly cried out. "And why do you come here every day? Don't you have some other friends to be with? Don't you have any other outcasts you can harass? You're a terrible person, Arthur Weasley! And to think, I thought you really cared!"
"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked her.
"I know your type, your friends tell me all the time." Molly said, biting her tongue to hold back the tears.
"What do they say to you?"
"Don't play stupid, Arthur Weasley!" Molly said. "I know that you're just using me. I don't know quite what you want from me, but I can gaurantee, no one's ever gained anyting from me. So why don't you just leave, okay?"
"Molly, I'm not--"
"Yes you are!" Molly shrieked, the tears pouring down her cheeks. "You're just going to make me trust you and then you're going to start all of these rumors and then you'll leave me alone again! Have you ever wondered why I don't have any friends? It's becuase that's all friends are, Arthur! They just use and then throw you away when they don't need you! Just like everyone!"
And then Arthur felt her pain. Molly had been abandoned and had been thrust into a world in which there was no one to hug her when she needed hugging. All she could do was watch all of the other children be hugged. Her pain was so deep and her suffering so innocent, Arthur felt something unfamiliar grow inside of him. It wasn't pity. It was far from it. It was a deep caring. A deep want to make her life better. A deep desire to embrace her weak frame and make her stronger.
Molly stood there, basked in the light of twilight, tiny body shaking with sobs. Arthur excepted her to run away into the school, but she didn't. Her quiet pain stood before him. Everything stood before him.
His arms acted by themselves. It was as if his brain had stopped functioning and the emotions took over his body. He felt Molly's trembling body against his.
"I would never, ever, ever in a million and one years, do anything to hurt you, Molly." He meant every single word of it.
"Then go away." She whispered. "Don't think I don't know it, Arthur. Every teenage couple breaks up. It's proven. I don't want my heart to get broken. So go."
"I'm sorry." Arthur half laughed. "I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Well, you're clinging to my waist."
~-~-
Silently, her tears fell on her pale cheeks. Arthur was doing his best to stop the tears from his own eyes as he stared at Molly. And as they stood on the platform, he knew that he would see Molly in a few months and that all would be well. But, he missed her already. It was horribly irrational that he should, but he did. He smiled to be brave. Not for himself, but for Molly.
"Is this goodbye?" She asked him.
"Of course not." Arthur said, smoothing back his bangs.
"Is this the end?" She asked him.
"Hey, listen to me." He said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I think that this is far from the end, Molly."
"What do you mean?" Molly asked him.
"I think it's only the beginning." He smiled.
Molly smiled back at him, her pale cheeks suddenly filling with a light pink.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, smiling. And then, in that one moment, he knew one thing was certain. He was going to marry this girl that stood before him. He didn't care how, he didn't care when, he just knew he was going to. And he would make her keep her head up high and face the world head on. Of course, he wouldn't tell her right now. No, he would wait. But one thing was for sure. As he watched her walk down that platform to the awaiting bus, he smiled.
He loved her.