Should Have Whispered

Arthur Weasley sat on the edge of the sofa, nervously waiting for his girlfriend, Molly. He knew he should never have asked her to break the rules for him, but he just couldn't help himself. He hated having to share her and he knew that it would be impossible for them to get time to themselves in the busy common room. He ran his hands through his hair and smoothed his robes for what seemed the thousandth time. She was late, but then she was always late. He resisted the temptation to look at his watch; he didn't want to know how late.

After what seemed like an eternity, he saw her walk slowly and quietly down her dormitory stairs. When their eyes met she had a look that was both excited and sorry. She apologised to him as he hugged her knowing that it wasn't necessary - he wouldn't have expected her to be on time anyway.

"Where are we going?" She asked, quietly.

"Nowhere special," he replied, "just fancied a stroll. And you don't need to whisper you know."

"I know," she whispered, then laughed. "I'm just not used to breaking the rules - I don't want to get caught."

"I won't let you get caught."

"Promise?" Molly asked, looking straight into Arthur's eyes.

"I promise."

And taking her hand, Arthur led Molly out of the portrait hole and into the deserted corridor.

After strolling along in silence for a while, Molly giggled to herself. In response to Arthur questioning raise of his eyebrow, she explained:

"I've never been out of my dorm at night. I feel so reckless!" She giggled again. "You must think I'm such a goody-two-shoes."

"Do you want me to let you into a secret?"

"Do you really think I'm going to say no?" Molly countered. Arthur smirked; he knew it had been a rhetorical question. "C'mon, don't leave me in suspense!"

"Well, if you want the truth," he paused, and, after a glare from Molly, continued, "I've actually never been out at night either."

Molly snorted. "That's it? I thought I was getting something interesting! You really think I don't know you that well, Arthur Weasley?" She stood with her arms folded across her chest looking up at him determinedly.

Before Arthur could say anything they heard a noise from along the corridor. Without thinking, Arthur opened the nearest door and dragged Molly through it. The room they had stumbled into wasn't a room at all but a tiny broom cupboard. Squashed together in that confined space, there wasn't even enough room stand without been pressed against one another. As they were waiting for it to be safe to leave, Arthur spoke almost inaudibly into Molly's ear:

"Perhaps, you should have whispered."

Molly bit back a laugh and affectionately slapped his shoulder, the only part of him she could get access to. Arthur shrugged his shoulders with a "what?" look on his face.

After around ten minutes (time which passed remarkably quickly – they had quickly found a way to occupy themselves), the young couple decided it would probably be safe to leave.

Arthur slowly backed out of the cupboard, realising too late that he had hit something solid. Something quite squashy and warm. Turning around slowly he found himself face to face with the formidable caretaker, Apollyon Pringle.

He cursed silently as he heard Molly gasp behind him. This was his fault; she was going to get punished because he had been stupid enough to lead her out. Well, he wasn't going to let that happen. However, before he had the chance to defend Molly, he heard Pringle speak.

"Well, well, two Gryffindor Prefects out at night, clearly flaunting the rules. Tut tut." Pringle placed particularly emphasis on the word "Prefect". "What is Professor Dumbledore going to think about this, then?"

Arthur glared at Pringle whilst feeling Molly desperately grab his hand. He had to do something; none of this was her fault.

"Sir," he began, deciding to try out that age-old saying about flattery. "Sir, this is my fault. If it wasn't for me Molly wouldn't be out. Don't punish her, just punish me."

"So Ginger here hasn't got a brain of her own then?"

Arthur seethed, he really did not like that man.

Molly stepped out from behind Arthur and draw herself up to her full five foot two with her hands on her hips and her temper rising. Arthur recognised the stance and worried for Pringle.

"Excuse me, Mr Pringle, my name is Molly Prewett, not Ginger. And I don't think Professor Dumbledore would appreciate it if he heard that our esteemed caretaker had been discriminating against students because of their appearance and using insults to bring them down. I don't believe he approves of this kind of conduct."

The caretaker visibly reddened and, as if he had heard nothing she said, took Arthur by the elbow and led him down the corridor. Molly began to follow but at a look from her boyfriend, which plainly told her not to, decided it would probably be better to wait in the common room. She hoped she hadn't made things worse for him by what she'd said.

Arthur, as soon as possible, wrenched his elbow free and glared at Pringle, though not daring to say anything. He wasn't yet sure if he was being taken to Pringle's office or to Dumbledore's. He sincerely hoped it was the former, since he really did like Dumbledore and didn't want him to be disappointed with him.

When they arrived in front in the caretaker's small poky office, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. However, seeing the glint in Pringle's small, rat-like eyes, his breath stopped short. He had a terrible reputation for punishment and Arthur really didn't what to think about what his was going to be.

And neither did Molly.

Around an hour later, Arthur clambered through the portrait hole and Molly ran across and hugged him. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat and he had an odd glint in his eyes. She was terrified about what Pringle had done to him and felt incredibly guilty about leaving him. She had heard some truly horrifying stories about previous wrongdoers.

As she hugged him, Molly whispered over and over that she was sorry and that she shouldn't have left him.

"Don't be silly, Mol. It was my fault, I was the one who should have been punished." As he spoke her guided her over to the nearest sofa, slowly easing himself down.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" Molly squealed, with tears in her eyes. "What did he do?"

"Nothing I didn't deserve," Arthur answered quietly, stroking her face to calm her down. "I'm OK really, my back just might hurt for a few days."

Molly said nothing, just snuggled into Arthur and cried quietly. She felt so guilty.

"Why are you crying Mol? It's not you fault!"

"It is!" Molly cried. "It is!"

"Don't be silly, it's mine."

Molly shook her head.

"I didn't keep my promise," he said sadly. "From now on, Molly Prewett, I promise to never ever break a promise about anything."

Molly looked up at him, blinking away the tears. Then, without saying anything else, she briefly kissed him on the cheek and silently walked up the stairs to her dormitory.

Arthur watched her go and swore to himself never to let this girl go. He loved her so much, he realised. He slowly eased himself out of his chair and headed for his dormitory.

As he was sliding into bed, Arthur hoped to himself that maybe one day Molly would be able to talk about that night without crying and feeling guilty, that maybe someday she would even be able to laugh about it.