So, even though I should be spending my time studying (it is exam week afterall) I spent it writing this. If you haven't noticed I'm kind of in love with the next Generation... so expect alot more. I'm thinking of writing Dominique's story next. And possibly, possibly, be on the lookout for a multiple chapter story - for that I'd want to follow like 4 characters in their crazy messed up drama filled lives... with some fluff because it is me and i love fluff. But don't expect cliche, because I'd rather keep the reader guessing then have them already predicting the end.
So back to THIS story. This is about Molly, the wonderful Ravenclaw bookworm. I tried something different here with the point of view, so hopefully it's not totally weird :/
Please Read... I'd also love Reviews :) ... and ENJOY!
Molly Weasley always thought boys in books were better. They noticed the average girls. They made them feel special.
Boys at Hogwarts, however, noticed the pretty girls. The average bookworms with freckles and muddy brown hair were forgotten. Molly Weasley was forgotten.
By her fifth year, Molly was use to seeing her best mates go off on Hogsmeade dates and pass notes with Colin Finnigan in Muggle Studies. She was use to being a spectator to others' romances. And sure, she wished she had a guy to hold her hand or walk her to class, but she had her books and as far as she was concerned they filled the void just fine.
When her cousin, Rose, was meeting Scorpius Malfoy at night during their patrols, Molly was curled up in her favorite armchair reading. While Roxanne snogged her boyfriend on the Quidditch pitch after yet another Gryffindor win, Molly was in the stands flipping through pages of her book. When Dominique was receiving flocks of owls carrying love letters, Molly was scouring the library.
You may be asking, "Why?" And I don't blame you. Why would a pretty girl be spending most of her days with her nose in a book rather than with the charming blokes in her year? Well, there is a reason.
In Molly's sixth year a boy finally noticed her. He noticed the way her hair curled only at the bottom. He noticed how she bit her lip whenever she flicked her wand. He noticed that she was always embarrassed about her laugh, though in his honest opinion there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Now, before you start making any assumptions, let me get one thing straight. This boy isn't the reason she'd given up on the male species. He couldn't be, because Molly didn't know about him. Molly only knew about Xander.
Xander was not like the first boy. In fact, Xander was nothing like him. Xander Pucey only seemed to notice the physical traits of his female peers. He noticed how nice Molly's arse looked whenever she wiggled away. He noticed how occasionally during class her skirt would inch up a just a tad too far. He noticed how well developed she was up top, something that quite enjoyed. And once Xander started noticing these things he decided that she was definitely worth going after. Now that Molly Weasley was officially one of his targets, he'd do anything to have her. Often he would try to catch her eye in class in order to make her blush. And whenever they were walking down the hall, he made it his mission to "accidentally" brush his hand against hers.
I believe it was October 7th when their "thing" officially started. It was in the middle of potions class and Molly had gotten up to retrieve unicorn hairs for her potion. She had reached out for the jar when she felt a hand on the small of her back. "Care to join me for a midnight stroll?" Xander whispered in her ear, "Meet me at the Quidditch pitch." And before Molly could answer, he had turned around to sit next to Terence Higgs.
For her next three classes, Molly couldn't focus. Images of how the night would go flooded her mind. She envisioned them walking hand in hand through the star lit sky. He would offer her his coat and swing it onto her pale shoulders. They'd stop to sit underneath a tree, and they'd relax there, just enjoying each other's company. Molly would turn to say something to him and she would realize that his eyes were glued to her. And she'd blush that infamous Weasley blush, making him love her even more. Soon enough he would lean in closer, and let his forehead rest against hers. "You're amazing," his lips would whisper before they would slowly move to cover her own.
Molly walked around school that day with a smile of her face and a hopeful look in her eyes. She was finally going to get that fairytale romance that she read about in all those ragged books. Xander was going to be her prince.
Xander, however, turned out to be just another frog. He did everything wrong. He didn't hold her hand or give her is jacket. No, instead he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side, owning her. And he didn't walk her down to the lake like she thought he would. Instead he led her to a shadowy grove. There were no delicate kisses, sweet compliments, or snuggling, just hungry hands roaming her body and a pair of lips attacking her face.
Molly decided that for once she'd allow for a second chance, persuading herself that next time, next time, he would treat her more like she had imagined. So, she welcomed his flirty comments and smiled whenever he winked. And it seemed like all was going according to plan seeing as he asked her to meet him in the Astronomy Tower on Thursday.
Two nights later, Molly was climbing the endless amount of stairs. Technically she wasn't supposed to be there until an hour after curfew, but the Ravenclaw couldn't help but make sure she was prompt. In this case extremely punctual. And like the nerd she was, Molly took out her book and read under the light of her wand until Xander would arrive.
After she was finished chapter four Molly noticed he was running a tad late. By chapter six she decided he must be trying to dodge Filch. Midway thru the next section she convinced herself that he was going to be there any minute. It was when she was finishing chapter ten that Molly finally heard footsteps.
And I'll let you in on a secret. It wasn't Xander who was climbing those stairs. And no, it wasn't him either. He was all the way back in his common room finishing up his foot long essay on hippogriffs. The moment in the Astronomy Tower wasn't like one out of a storybook. There was no prince charming or knight in shining armor coming to her rescue. It was just Fred.
"Molly…" Fred walked towards his cousin with his hand shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Molly took note of her cousin's glum expression, a rare oddity. You see, Fred is the type to always have a smile on his face, cracking jokes, and being friendly. He definitely lived up to his name. "Molly, he's not—he's not coming."
Molly snapped her book shut and raised one of her thin eyebrows, "What do you mean?"
Fred cleared his throat and sauntered over before taking a seat next to her copy of Pride and Prejudice. "He's not coming, Molls."
"Why? Did he tell you that—how do you even know I was supposed to meet him here?"
"Higgs told me about your, umm, 'date."
"So, how do you know...?"
He ran his hands through his messy black hair and looked at her with his mother's chocolate brown eyes, "I saw him in a broom closet."
"Oh."
"With Reilly."
"Oh," Molly looked over at her cousin, "jeez, Fred, I'm sorry."
"Yea, me too," He shook his head and bit his lip, "Just makes me wonder what I did wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong. She's just an awful girlfriend."
"Maybe," Fred muttered still not sounding convinced.
Molly moved to stand up, snatched her things and offered her hand. "Come on, don't be a twit, take my hand."
Fred obliged and together they walked down the steps.
It wasn't until Molly was tucked safely away in her dorm that she let a tear slip down her cheek.
Third chances were something Molly Weasley just did not allow. She may spend most of her time hidden away in the back corner of the library, and she may not have much of a social life, but that did not mean that an attractive boy could just break her heart as often as he pleased. Molly knew now that boys in reality could not be trusted. But the boys in her books, they never let her down.
Dominique was worried that Molly would become a cat lady, minus the cats. Roxanne was concerned that she'd have to send her older cousin off to St. Mungo's. Rose was worried that Molly's marks were going to slip. Fred was nervous that Molly's heart was too broken to ever be fixed.
It wasn't until later that winter that Fred saw him. He had been glancing over at the Ravenclaw table far too often. Fred nudged the blonde haired boy next to him, "What you staring at mate?"
"Nothing," the boy mumbled, turning the shade of his tomato soup.
"Seems to me that something at the Ravenclaw table has caught your attention. Which one is it?"
"Fred, shut up. I don't want to talk about it right," his blue eyes were wide with embarrassment.
"Let's see," Fred stroked his chin, "Not Elaine Bucknell. She's out your league. Not Charlotte Peters, she's going with Wood. Umm, not Bradley. I'm assuming he's not quite your type. Not Dahlia, because I was flirting with her during Transfiguration. That leaves Winnie and Moll—"
Fred stopped. Molly? He turned towards his friend, "My cousin? Lysander!"
Lysander's face turned crimson, and he looked down at the oak table. "You don't have to shout it."
"Molly?" Fred whispered. "I, I just didn't expect that. At all." And he hadn't. Fred was quite certain that no one would have anticipated his little crush. The pair has known each other for seventeen years now, and they've chatted a total of six times. Maybe? "Wow."
"I know, I don't get it either," Lorcan said, coming out of nowhere. He plopped down in front of Fred and smiled at the two.
"Wait," Fred raised his eyebrow, "you knew?"
Lorcan grinned, "Course I did. We are twins, so I can practically hear his thoughts." He grabbed a biscuit for the basket and pointed it at his brother, "Some of which I'd rather not listen to."
Both Fred and Lysander turned red.
"How bout we keep those thoughts away from Molly's cousin, thank you!"
"Will do," Lysander blushed before taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.
"So when are you going to ask her out."
Lysander choked on his drink. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah, Ly," Fred looked over at the seat next to him, "when are you?"
"Actually, I'm quite content with this long-distance relationship we have going on."
"Ly," Lorcan gestured to his brother, "think about it. She's lonely over there in Ravenclaw. You can swoop in and show her what love is really like."
Fred nodded, "Merlin knows she needs that after what Xander did."
"Exactly! You'll be her prince charming! Look, problem solved! All you have to do is march over there, go up to her, and ask her out."
"Simpler said than done."
"GROW SOME BALLS, LY!" Lorcan shouted, collecting the attention of everyone in the Great Hall. Lysander covered his face with his hands and sank deeper into his seat.
Fred laughed, "Well, Molly will be easier to deal with than your brother."
"Good point."
Later that evening Fred Weasley was reclining on his favorite sofa in the Gryffindor common room, procrastinating as always. He'd spent the past half hour tossing his remembrall up in the air and catching it. For some reason, it had kept the teenager entertained. He was in the middle of tossing it, when Lysander walked in and sat in the armchair.
"I asked," he said simply.
"What?" Fred raised his eyebrow as he continued to goof off.
"I asked Molly to Hogsmeade."
This made the dark haired boy stop and sit up. "And?"
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Oh," Fred sulked back into the red couch. "Why?"
"She apparently doesn't have time for boys and would much rather spend her weekend by the fire reading another one of her novels than let her heart get broken."
"Oh."
"Yeah, not exactly what I was hoping for."
"Maybe," Fred started as he rolled the remembrall around in his palm, "maybe, you just need to prove it to her."
"Prove what exactly?" Lysander asked glumly.
"That you aren't going to be one of those wankers that just end up disappointing girls like her."
Lysander sat up in his chair, now sitting on the edge and he leaned closer to Fred, "And how, pray tell, should I go about proving this to the most stubborn girl in Hogwarts?"
"Why are you dragging Dominique into this?"
It was now the day after the Hogsmeade trip, and Molly Weasley was lying in her bed, the blue curtains closed shut, with a book on her lap. She was enjoying the quiet, when a first year knocked on the door of her dormitory.
"Molly? There's someone waiting for you outside. He says it's urgent."
Molly sighed, "I'll be right there."
She heard the door close and listened to the tiny footsteps as they scurried away. The brunette swung her legs off the bed and climbed out from underneath the piece of cloth. Molly walked towards the mirror. She glanced at herself, and managed to notice the wrinkles in her skirt. She attempted to smooth them away, but failed. Letting out a single huff, Molly slid on her shoes and walked towards the door.
She poked her head out and saw Lysander Scamander leaning against the wall a few meters away. "Lysander?" Molly asked, stepping out into the hallway. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," Lysander took a breath. From what Molly could see, he looked a tad pale and nervous. "I—I brought something for you. And I hope that it might show you that I'm not a complete arsehole." He extended a neatly wrapped present in her direction.
Molly took it from his calloused hands and stared at it. She looked up at Lysander, who she could tell was blushing even though his shaggy blonde hair was covering his face. She took her hand and slowly ripped a piece of the silver wrapping paper.
"I might be kind of cheesy," Lysander admitted taking a step towards her, his hands wedged deep into his pockets.
Tossing the remainder of the paper aside, Molly looked down at the object in her hands. "A diary?"
"Well, I talked to Charlotte on my way to Hogsmeade. She told me that you've haven't got the best history with boys here and that you much prefer the ones in your books. And I thought that maybe I could be one of those guys you read about." Lysander took his eyes of the ground and looked into her dark blue ones. "You could fill it with all the sweet, romantic things I'll do for you," He laughed, "And I promise there will be ton. If you give me chance."
Molly blushed and bit her lip. At any moment she thought that she might just tip over. This boy was giving her butterflies in her stomach and chills that ran up and down her spine. Unable to form actual words, Molly nodded her head, causing Lysander to smile like a five-year-old on Christmas.
He took her hand in his. "Walk you down to the lake?"
"I'd love that," Molly smiled, her grin spreading from ear to ear.
Lysander bent down and kissed the top of her head before leading her down the corridor.