A/N: The other character in this story, Gavin Wood, is of my own creation. He's the son of Oliver Wood.
Going Against Nature
It all seemed too unreal.
Gavin Wood had just asked me out and somehow the universe managed to not fall to pieces. I know, I checked. As soon as the words left his mouth I stole a glance out the window, and lo and behold everything was as it should be.
"Um...excuse me?" Because really, that's all the likes of me could have said when The Gavin Wood asked me, little old Molly "Merlin, why is Percy back at Hogwarts in girl form?" Weasley II, out to Hogsmeade.
He gave me this little smile that was half "oh, you're so unintentionally adorable" and half "this conversation isn't going how I planned it." He repeated his question, "Molly, will you come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?" He said it exactly the same way he said it the first time, no patronization to be found.
I stole another glance out the window. Nope, the universe was still there, and it started to make me nervous. You see, Gavin and I were a part of two very different groups of people at Hogwarts. He, being almost exactly like his father, was the Gryffindor-All-Star-Quidditch-Captain type. While I, being almost exactly like my father only with a set of breasts (though if you asked the total prats around here, that bit of information was up for debate), was the Ravenclaw-Anal-Retentive-"Hey! Three feet apart when walking down the hallway!" type. On the social food chain, his kind were up at the very top while mine were at the bottom, second only to male Hufflepuff first years and Moaning Myrtle. Our types rarely mixed, and when they did, it was only for assistance with Transfiguration homework.
I gave him a skeptical look, "why?" I had to ask, because this was Gavin Wood, and I'm Molly Weasley II (and no, the "II" will never go away, even my own sister refers to me as Molly II). I did not have an inferiority complex; I just liked to think that I was aware of how nature works and that this was going against it in so many ways. A dark thought crossed my mind. Did one of his friends put him up to this? Like a prank or one of those childish dares? My eyes darted around the section of the library that we were in. There were no hiding peers to be found, it was just us two (apparently books on cauldron bottoms weren't as exciting of a read as I believed them to be).
"Because I like you," he answered so easily, so honestly, that my jaw would have dropped if it weren't for my excellent self control.
I was tempted to look out the window again, but decided against it. If there was something wrong with the universe today, it sure was clever about hiding it.
"Molly," said Gavin, and to my horror I realized that I'd been staring at him like a...oh, what did Grandpa call it? Ah, yes! A deer caught in the flashlights, "is it so hard to believe that I'd like you?"
I gave him a look that said "isn't that obvious?" and nodded.
"Molly..." he started, and took a step forward. I stood there, legs stuck to the floor and feeling trapped regardless of the three possible escape routes that I had (a straight path to the main entrance, the side entrance, and if necessary, the window). He took one of my hands in his, "you're smart, and kind, and-"
"Not your type," I finished, then pulled my hand away from his, "a-and no public displays of affection in the library..." I added weakly. Citing regulations always made me feel more secure.
"Oh? And what is 'my type?'" he asked both in challenge and in amusement.
"Carole Finnigan," I answered without missing a beat. Herein laid the true reason why the whole world should have been crumbling to pieces as we spoke. Carole Finnigan, Gryffindor's seeker, was spunky, beautiful, outgoing, and friendly enough that my jealousy towards her would never ever dip into animosity. She was a perfect match for Gavin, or at the very least, they had enough in common to be compatible, and rumor had it that there was some sort of mutual interest between the two of them. While I, on the other hand, had nothing in common with him except for the fact that our fathers were in the same house and year way back when. She made the perfect girlfriend material, the only thing I was perfect at was school and being a pompous prat, though I'm pretty sure the latter's a hereditary trait.
"Carole?" Why did he look so surprised? If anyone was supposed to feel surprise in this conversation, it was me. "Come on, we have nothing in common."
"You're both in Gryffindor, you both like Quidditch, you're both likeable people, if you overlook your occasional tendencies to leap before looking..." I began listing off their similarities. It was a very large list.
"Well, when you put it that way..." he rubbed sheepishly at the back of his head, "but, still, we have some things in common."
"As in?" I looked up at him expectantly.
He was at a loss for words. I nodded, hoping that his silence meant he finally understood that we couldn't possibly happen, and began walking away (escape route 2: the side entrance) when he moved in front of me, blocking my path. We now stood almost chest to chest and I noted, with some interest, that I was almost as tall as he was (though his broad frame still made me feel dwarfed). "Okay, so maybe we're not what others would view as the perfect couple. And, yeah, we're nothing alike, but I think you're bloody brilliant, and beautiful, and I like how you always do the right thing, even if people think you're a total arse for it- no wait...that didn't come out right. Merlin, I just-"
He grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me full on the lips. If I wasn't so shocked I would have been incredibly upset about how many rules we were breaking.
He pulled away, "I really like you, Molly. It may not make sense to you or perhaps anybody else, but I do. A lot. And I'm really sorry I just broke about 100 rules just now, but will you please go to Hogsmeade with me?"
I stared. This wasn't a dream, the world wasn't falling apart, and he was clearly sincere about his feelings. Maybe my hesitancy was stemming from some sort of inferiority complex (perhaps covered up by some superiority complex and smothered in pompousness). I mean, I did know better than to believe in cliches and stereotypes, or at least I should have known. Maybe this could work. Maybe we could work. And it didn't hurt that Gavin was rather cute and quite agreeable. I took a deep breath, "yes, Gavin. I'll go to Hogsmeade with you."
He smiled broadly and his legs jiggled a bit as if he wanted to do a victory dance but thought better of it. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but I blocked him with my hand, "we might get caught!" I hissed. Just because I agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him didn't mean I was suddenly going to break rules for him, even if he was The Gavin Wood.
He gave me an amused smile before running off excitedly, "I'll see you this weekend!" he called over his shoulder.
I smiled. Perhaps I'd been giving too much thought to this whole "laws of nature" rubbish.
A/N: I really like writing Next Generation fics. I swear, it's like JKR handed fandom the keys to her car and shouted, "have fun!" In my NG universe, Molly II is one of two Weasleys not in Gryffindor (her being in Ravenclaw and Hugo in Hufflepuff). Her wonderfulness catches the attention of Gavin Wood (my OC), son of Oliver Wood. This totally has something to do with me shipping PercyxOliver.
BTW, when Molly botches the "deer in the headlights" line, it was intentional on my part.
Like it? Dislike it? It's okay. This one's for me.
Later, baybays!
