AN: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I am simply using it for a fic. Enjoy!
Seeker for the Montrose Magpies.
SEEKER: An angsty story using the prompt '"Being happy never goes out of style" – Lilly Pulitzer' (quote)
Molly ran to her fireplace, hurriedly throwing in the Floo Powder and shouting out the address she wanted to be transported to — St. Mungo's.
During the turbulent ride through and out of the fireplace, Molly took deep, steady breaths to calm herself — well, to at least try and calm herself. This was not a calm-inducing situation, however. Arthur was in hospital, and the kids were going to be alerted to his condition at any moment. She had to be there before they got there; she couldn't imagine how they would react if she wasn't there to comfort them.
Practically flying through the reception area, Molly accosted one of the Healers to find the ward her husband was in. The panic on her face must have been enough to surpass ID checks and 'next of kin' visiting rules as she was immediately directed to a lift and given a number to press in. She made a mental note to not look so harried and scared when her children arrived, but until she saw Arthur for herself, she couldn't not be anxious.
The ride in the lift was also a turbulent one, and with each jolt of the cabinet, she felt more tears spring to her eyes. She wiped them away quickly, and the aggression with which she did so pinkened her cheeks as if she had been stood over a stove for a good while. Thinking about it, she realised she would have been making dinner in time for Arthur to come home. A deep breath pushed past her lips, and she dragged them up into some semblance of a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, just in time for the doors to open on the floor she had been directed to earlier.
Sprinting down the corridor, she hurriedly glanced through the windows of each room, trying to find a familiar mop of red hair… There! She stopped for no more than two seconds to straighten out her dress and hair, and twisted the handle to enter the room.
Upon her entry, Arthur moved his head to the side, incredibly slowly, and Molly saw that he had a massive white bandage across one side of his neck.
What on Earth had happened to him?
"Oh, Molly," said Arthur, his voice uncharacteristically scratchy.
Evidently, there had been extensive damage to his throat. Molly grit her teeth to stop more tears from arising, turning her smile into more of a grimace.
"Arthur, what happened?" she asked, her own voice a whisper as she moved to sit at her husband's bedside.
He allowed his hand to fall into hers. "It's nothing for you to worry yourself about, Mollywobbles."
Molly arched an eyebrow, ready to tell him off for being so ridiculous. Nevertheless, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Arthur," she began, but she found herself unable to finish her thought.
Arthur let out a laugh; it sounded almost like a gasp. "You come in here with your wonderful oversized apron, with your hair twisted into those buns that always fall out, and yet, when you smile, I can only see how I'm the luckiest man in the world to have such a strong wife."
Molly winked at him, despite the severity of the situation, and said, "Being happy never goes out of style. Even when we feel like falling apart, it's important to find a reason to laugh and smile. It's the only way to make it through."
"It is indeed."
It was as if Merlin himself had orchestrated the timing, for it was then that Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny burst through the doors, closely followed by a stern-looking Bill and an anxious Charlie.
As they all gathered round their father's bedside, Molly let go of Arthur's hand and moved to stand by the window.
"It's alright; really, it's alright!" exclaimed Arthur with a chuckle, in response to Bill's incessant questioning.
With some distance, she could see the extent of the damage to her husband's form. His face was bruised, patches of purple peeping from beneath his red hair, discreet enough to be mistaken for shadows. There was, of course, his neck. Although it had been clean when she entered the room, blood was already beginning to peek through the bandages. Three vials of Blood-Replenishing Potion lay on his bedside table, along with a vial of Antivenom — exactly what had attacked her husband? She knew for a fact that this was no accident.
Molly shivered as a draught blew through the window and she closed it just as the first drops of rain fell through onto the windowsill.
This had been no accident, she thought to herself again, and as her eyes locked with Arthur's across the room, she could see the anxiety he was trying to disguise behind his smile. She only hoped her own concern wasn't as evident, and that her children were not as perceptive as she was.
She could feel it simply in his gaze, that this was a turning of events. The threat, which had seemed to far away previously, had come knocking at their front door, and dread flooded through her as she assessed the full extent of the danger not only her husband was in, but herself — and their children.
Hogwarts was the safest place in Wizarding Britain for her children, but for her eldest sons, always travelling and working, there was no protection she could offer other than whispered warnings and charms. Almost like a lead weight hitting her stomach, the realisation that this was beyond her control, that she couldn't keep her children sheltered from this, knocked the breath out of her lungs.
Ron turned to look at her, and she blinked quickly and smiled at him. It was almost like magic, the way she saw the worry in his eyes abate.