In each class she sits one row up, directly in front of him. After five years of sitting directly behind her in every class (of which, four were intentional), he had become capable of discerning her mood from only seeing her back. If she was playing with her hair, she was nervous; if she was sitting slightly leaned back, she was paying attention. When bored, her head lolled slightly to the right. When sleepy, she leaned her head back.

When she was listening, she tapped her quill in her right hand. Things were always collected with her left hand, even if they were to her right. When she wore her hair down, she had been up early and had had enough time to "appropriately" fix her hair. If her hair was in a bun, she was trying to impress someone. Ponytails tended to mean she had woken up late and was too rushed to do anything else. Braids were so rare that he had yet to determine what their meaning was; she wore them maybe twice a year.

Every morning, she would turn around to smile at him and wish him a good morning. She would often ask how his lunch was and if he ever missed a class, she was the one who brought him his homework. She hadn't dated anyone, mostly because of her uptight father and stepmother. He had a feeling that she was holding out for some lucky guy, although he had no clue who.

Today was different though. She who was normally early was at least thirty minutes late. Nobody seemed all that concerned, especially her friends; maybe she had taken ill during the night. He prayed that she hadn't and was simply missing class; prefect rounds without her seemed so bleak. Class seemed so empty- perhaps due to the absence of her head in his line of sight. He could see almost perfectly and missed the privacy that sitting behind her gave. He missed her presence the most, since she always made his days brighter.

When she missed all of her classes that morning, he began to worry. She never missed anything. She had told him once that it was in preparation to be a mother (what she wanted to be most in the world), since mothers always had to be there for their children no matter what. And what if she never became a mother? She thought for a moment before answering that she'd be a child Healer, so she could at least be around children all the time.

As he was eating his lunch, about halfway through his beef stew, a new thought occurred to him. Perhaps she was avoiding him. Regret washed over him and he couldn't stomach the idea of taking another bite. He pushed away his bowl and raced quickly upstairs to the common room to try to find her.

As he trampled a few first years, last night played over in his head. Close to midnight, they had been walking around, performing various prefect duties. An odd bang sounded through the hall and she jumped and nervously grabbed his hand. He tried to reassure her that it was nothing and gently rubbed her back for a few seconds before continuing to walk. They traveled about halfway down the hall when it occurred to him that they were still holding hands; his head jerked to the side and he watched her as they walked along. She had a tiny smile on her face and it seemed as if she was humming something softly. As if she knew she was being watched, she turned to look at him and her smile widened. He had no clue what possessed him, but he knew he had to kiss her right then.

It hadn't been a long or shocking kiss. He moved just a step closer to her as he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to hers. It hadn't been more than a second, but it seemed so much longer. As he pulled away, he saw her eyes widen and her mouth dropped slightly. She looked shocked and somewhat afraid as she stepped back and dropped his hand. Before he could say a word, she turned and walked back down the hall, mentioning something she thought she had forgotten.

He could have smacked himself last night and now he wanted to smack himself even harder. Of course it wasn't him she wanted; she wanted someone more handsome, with more money, and a respected family. He couldn't help her fulfill her dream; if they were together and had children, there was no way she could be at home with them as she liked. He practically mauled down the Fat Lady as he rushed into the common room and hurried over to the girls' dormitory steps.

"Arthur, you know you can't go up there. What do you need? I could go get it for you."

He turned quickly and stared open-mouthed at her as she rose from the large easy chair near the stairs. She titled her head to the side, giving him a curious smile as she waited for an answer.

"Uh… um… well… I was looking for you actually," he managed to stammer out as he stepped away from the stairway.

"Me?" she looked shocked and worried," Is something wrong? Do I need to come downstairs?"

"No, no. It's just you weren't in your classes… and I was worried that you were sick… and then I remembered… and I figured you were avoiding me…Oh, Molly, please don't be mad at me!" he rushed as he felt himself break out in a cold sweat.

Her features contorted slightly and she looked quite puzzled; even puzzled, she was so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Why would I be mad at you? I haven't been avoiding you at all, I just simply needed to rest today," she said, approaching him so that she stood barely three inches from him.

"Last night," he murmured, "when I kissed you, you looked upset and ran off. I'm so sorry, I don't know what possessed me and I shouldn't have done it."

He hung his head and couldn't bear to look at her as he apologized. He just wanted this to be over with. She began to laugh and he felt even more humiliated.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I swear, I didn't leave because of your kiss, I promise! It wasn't that at all!" she giggled and lifted his head enough so she could look him in the eye. "I'm not quite sure you wanted to know this, but my period arrived just as you kissed me! I knew I couldn't complete my rounds and any other excuse I was afraid you would question too much. I was going to tell you so this morning, but my cramps were so bad I couldn't get out of bed."

His eyes bugged and he had to gulp. The fact that she was discussing her period with him barely registered; he could only think of how she hadn't left because of his kiss and that she had wanted to see him that morning. Immense relief flooded over his as he leaned against the wall to gain some kind of bearing.

"So, you didn't mind the kiss?" he wanted to smack himself as he asked, but felt in some masochistic or egotistical (depending on her answer) way that he needed to know.

She grinned mischievously at him and gave a little laugh.

"Actually, I did mind it," his eyes widened in horror, "I thought it a little tame for you, Mr. Weasley. I've heard of some rather interesting dreams you've had concerning me and was expecting something quite different. Perhaps you should try again."

He didn't know what to do. Horror that she knew of those dreams, of which he had no clue how they had reached her ears, mixed with thrill that she wanted him to kiss her again made him unsure as to what to do next. She laughed again as she pushed him against the wall and gave him such a kiss that he couldn't breathe when she pulled away.

"Ms. Prewett," he gasped when he was finally able to communicate coherent thought, "I wasn't expecting that! That was quite unfair."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him as she teased "Well then, perhaps both of us should try again."

These types of kisses, he decided, he could have for the rest of his life.