The golden light of dawn crept in through the sheer drapes, illuminating Molly's bedroom. Oliver slept peacefully beside her on his back, one arm draped across his stomach, the other stretched out under Molly. She was awake, lying silently propped up on one elbow, Oliver's arm under her waist, watching him. This was her favorite hobby, she had told him, watching him sleep. He had laughed at her and kissed her. After three months together, she never got tired of it.
Her eyes traced the laugh lines around his face, tanned and weathered from years of flying under the sun in all sorts of conditions. Dark stubble bloomed across his cheeks and neck and she knew that was likely beard-burn o her face and chest. He had apologized the first time he saw it, but she had sincerely assured him she liked it. He hadn't bothered shaving before their dates since then. Her eyes dipped lower, over his muscular shoulders and chest to his still-flat, but softening, middle, and the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the sheet.
They still hadn't told anyone about them. Dominique had her suspicions; she wasn't stupid after all and Molly's collection of men's shirts was slowly growing. Not the mention the time Oliver had been late for practice and apparated away without his shoes, leaving them in the entryway. Dominique had made an indelicate comment about the size of them and Molly had laughed, to her cousin's surprise.
Most of their times was spent at his flat, where there was no danger of being interrupted. He had a growing collection of her things as well; girly shampoo in the bath, a pink toothbrush beside his, a drawer full of just her clothes. More often than not her weekends were spent with him, cooking for him and watching bad television together. Dominique had commented just the day before that she was starting to feel almost as if she lived alone. She had also said it was about time they met this bloke.
"You're doing it again."
Molly said nothing, and his eyes blinked open, squinting against the growing light. She leaned down and kissed him, and he pulled her closer. It was a Sunday and they both had the day off; his team had won against Portree and he had brought a bottle of wine to her flat to celebrate the Harpies making it into the play offs.
"I can't help myself," she said, rubbing her nose against his.
"Where's your cousin? I half expected to be woken up by screams this morning," Oliver told her wryly.
"She wouldn't scream," she assured him. "She might be a bit shocked, but don't you think it's time we let someone find out about us anyway?"
"You mean that I'm corrupting my old school mate's young, beautiful daughter?"
Molly grinned. "Oh, she knows I'm being corrupted, she just doesn't know who by."
She relaxed in his arms, laying her head on his chest to hear his steady heartbeat. Their age difference had become a joke between them, but she knew he really did worry what her family would say. He had no real family to speak of, an only child with one cousin he didn't keep in contact with and elderly parents who rarely left their Highland home anymore. Molly had met them a couple of weeks ago and they had been delighted by the young woman their son was so obviously head over heels for.
"Hungry?" She asked him. He rolled them over and grinned down at her.
"It can wait."
An hour later, Molly was in the kitchen frying up some eggs and making toast. Oliver came in behind her, sleep pants slung low on his hips, and set his hands on her waist, burying his nose in her hair.
"How do you always smell so good?"
"I use good shampoo. Do you want beans?"
"No thanks. Is there coffee?"
"On the range. I just bought cream yesterday."
Molly put two plates on the table and Oliver handed her a cup of coffee with cream, no sugar. They ate quietly, each reading a section of the Daily Prophet. Oliver looked up when they heard the front door slam.
"Honey! I'm home!" Shouted Dominique. Molly smiled serenely and went back to her paper and Oliver, trying not to laugh, looked down at his as well.
"Molly? Where – HOLY SHIT!" The leggy strawberry blond froze I the kitchen doorway and stared in shock at Oliver and Molly.
"Hello Domi. How was Milan?"
"Fuck Milan! You're fucking Oliver Wood!"
Oliver grinned at the flabbergasted woman. "Enthusiastically."
Dominique shrieked, and Molly sent Oliver a dry look, which he returned with an innocent smile. Then Dominique started to laugh and plopped down at the table, swiping Molly's toast.
"When did you two get so domestic?"
"Ages ago," Molly replied. "Although usually at his flat. You did know I was seeing someone."
"Yes, but him?! Good morning, Oliver."
"Good morning, Dominique."
"Does anyone else know yet?"
"No," replied Molly. "You're the first. And keep it to yourself. I'd rather Dad and Mum found out from me, hmm?"
Dominique eyed the couple curiously as they ate their breakfast and read their papers. They were so comfortable with each other; she couldn't believe she never noticed it before. She had certainly seen them around each other enough times over the last few months.
"When did this all start?"
"Three months ago," said Molly. Oliver grinned but didn't look up from his paper. "Well, sort of."
"Sort of?"
"We sort of flirted for a while." Molly cleared her throat and went back to reading, signaling that she wasn't going to say more on the subject.
Dominique stood to leave, giving them one last look.
"You know Lucy is going to flip."
Despite Dominique's dire predictions, Molly and Oliver remained under wraps for the next several weeks. Oliver was busy preparing for the league championship and Molly was covering extra shifts at work for a co-worker on maternity leave. At the beginning of April, they got a rare day off together and elected to spend it shut up in Oliver's flat. Sitting on the sofa together, Molly lay with her head on his shoulder as he flipped through channels on the telly.
"This is ridiculous," Molly stated when the program changed to advertisement.
"I think that's the point," said Oliver, staring at the screen.
"No, not that," she laughed. "Our schedules. I never see you anymore. I'm either working while you're sleeping and sleeping while you're working, or you have a day off and I'm working. You know this is the first day off, real, proper day off without getting called in on an emergency, in almost three weeks?"
"I know," he grumbled. "It's been that long since we had a proper shag too."
She snorted and slapped his chest.
"Priorities Oliver. You're like a randy teenager."
"You like it."
"I love it."
"So, come and work with me."
Molly sat up and looked at him squarely. He stared at the television on purpose for a long minute, then turned his head to look at her. She didn't look shocked, just curious, her head tilted to one side. He returned her stare seriously.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Polly is retiring and we're going to be hiring a new healer for the team. I already told the owner you might be interested. You always say you'd rather work in a steadier environment and nothing is steadier than a Quidditch team.
"Okay."
Molly got the job and her sister was ecstatic. She started going on about seeing Molly every day and Molly should move in with her and they would get to spend lots and lots of time together.
"I'm not moving, Luce," Molly told her gently. "Not at first, anyway."
If the new healer spent more time than usual in private conference with the coach, no one seemed to think it odd. If they arrived to work together more often than could be coincidental no one seemed to notice. Molly loved working with the Harpies, as Oliver knew she would, and they loved working near each other. She built a strong rapport with the women on the team and did get to spend more time with her sister, as well as her sister's teammates. While she still didn't appreciate Quidditch anymore than before she did love her new job.
She and Oliver got to spend more time together, as well. Molly always found an excuse to stay after all of the players had left and then spent the rest of her evening with Oliver in his office while he worked on plays or schedules. He would take her out to dinner or she would order takeout or if they weren't too late they'd go back to his and she'd cook. They went to the cinema and even caught a live show. Molly grew to love Holyhead.
In September, exactly one year after their first meeting, Oliver took her to Icon. It wasn't the first time they'd been back, and Molly had grown to love the litter restaurant with it's silly maître d'; and kind staff.
"Mr. Wood! Miss Weasley!" Exclaimed Wiggins excitedly. "We have your table all ready of course. Our best customers. Benny! Get their coats. Here we are, your usual table. David will be with you shortly. So, pleased you are here."
As always, Molly smiled at the funny man with the silly moustache. Oliver held her hand across the table as David brought the wine they always ordered and took down their meal choices, which rarely varied. Staring into Oliver's eyes, Molly thought, as she often did, that she quite loved this man. Soon, she thought, she would share it with him.
"Happy anniversary," Oliver said, holding out a small, beautifully wrapped, gift. Molly gasped.
"Oliver! Our anniversary isn't for another two months."
He raised one eyebrow and smiled at her. "Really?"
"We met a year ago, but you didn't ask me out until November."
"I haven't even looked at another woman since the night I first kissed you, Molly. It might have taken us two months to get around to the niceties, but I've been yours since that night."
Molly melted, as she often did when Oliver was feeling romantic and sincere.
"Open it," he urged her.
She looked down at the gift in her hands. Upon closer inspection the wrapping wasn't as neat as it could have been, and creases were uneven; she realized he had wrapped this for her himself. Close to tear already, she gently ripped the wrapping off. Inside was a plain box. She removed the lid and found two smaller boxes, one black velvet another plain, brown one. First, she picked up and opened the jewelry box. Two beautiful, flawless, star shaped diamond earrings winked up at her. She did start to cry then, remembering their first real date, when they'd looked at the stars together. With shaking hands, she took out the earrings she had in and replaced them.
"Oh Oliver, they're beautiful."
He didn't say anything, just smiling as she picked up the second box. Inside she found an ordinary key, used and scratched. Confused, she looked up at Oliver.
"Is this my key to your flat?"
"Yes."
"You do know that the point of a gift is to give someone something they don't already have?"
Oliver laughed at Molly's quizzical expression. He reached over and took they key from her hand. For a moment he just examined it in the candlelight.
"The first time I gave this to you it was, so you could let yourself in when I wasn't there yet. This time I'm giving it to you for a different reason." He smiled at her and extended the key toward her.
"Move in with me?"
So, she moved in. A week later, on their day off together, and with Dominique's help, they moved her into his flat. She filled the empty half of the cabinet in the bath and he scented soaps and shampoos sat in a basket by the tub. Her clothes filled up the closet and her shows lined up next to his. Her pictures filled the bedroom and the living room, next to the few that he had already. The one of them together on the cold beach in Holyhead sat next to her side of the bed. His worn, blue cotton sheets were replaced with her green ones and seven pillows were artfully arranged across the head of the bed. A potted plant went by the sofa in the living room and her books filled the mostly empty but for Quidditch books case by the fireplace. Her Grandmother Hoffman's teapot sat on a shelf above the range and her coat hung beside his in the hallway.
All done, with Dominique napping on the sofa, Molly sat on Oliver's lap in his favorite, overstuffed chair. He groaned and buried his face in her neck and she laughed, hugging him and drawing he knees up.
"You know," he said after a few quiet minutes. "We should probably tell your parents about this."
"Probably."
The very next weekend was the team's annual pre-season kick-off party at the owner's house. Families were invited to attend, and Molly and Oliver decided it was finally time to tell everyone about their relationship. It was Oliver's idea to announce it, and that they'd moved in together, at the party. Best to get everyone at once, was his reasoning. Molly couldn't argue.
She told her parents that she'd meet them at the party. They had wanted to see this new place she'd moved into, but she had put them off. Dominique had gotten quite smirky when they subject came up.
Two hours before the party, Molly was just out of the shower and looking for the black dress she'd been planning to wear. It wasn't with her other clothes and she thought she must have left it with the clean laundry in the living room. Padding out in just her towel, she called to Oliver.
"Hey babe? Have you seen that little black number I said I was going to wear? I can't find it anywhere and…" Molly stopped short and flushed bright red. She hadn't heard the front door open and was shocked to see two people standing in the kitchen, staring at her.
"Oh shit."
"Molly!" Percy and Audrey Weasley exclaimed in unison. Oliver, standing off to one side, was caught somewhere between laughter and horror.