Giving Thanks

Emily quietly opened the kitchen door to the Burrow, hands filled with bags of food. She had told Grandpa Weasley a little about the Thanksgiving holiday in the U.S. and he seemed so interested that she promised to spend her break with them here. Albus pointed out that he wouldn't have the day off, but she promised he would be able to work without interruption.

Of course there were what the Academy dubbed The Turkey Games the afternoon before break, making it difficult to get away until nearly midnight in England. Making as little sound as possible, she set all the food on the table, then unloaded it into the refrigerator. She took the turkey and put it into a large pot, filling it with water and salt to brine before she finally washed her hands and tiptoed up the stairs. Instead of going to the guest room, she opened Albus's door.

She walked in, sitting on the edge of his bed. Emily looked at him for a moment. He slept without glasses or a shirt. When dressed, he seemed to still be trapped in the lanky body of a teenager. In truth he was lean, but toned. More attractive than he seemed to realize. But then if he were arrogant on top of irritable, there would be no talking to him.

Emily leaned over, placing the back of her hand on his cheek. "Al," she whispered.

With a breath his eyes flew open, that tired confusion present until he saw Emily. Albus turned onto his back.

"So you made it alright," he said groggily, rubbing at his tired eyes.

"Yup," Emily said. Albus pulled back the covers. Emily kicked off her shoes and pulled off her jacket, dressed otherwise as she crawled beside him. Albus made more room and let her turn before spooning behind her, setting the blankets back down. He wrapped her up in one arm.

It was different than how Eric used to hold her. Eric would continually move his hand up and down her curves, never settling for one spot until he was asleep. Even with the superficially physical arrangement between her and Albus, he tucked her into his chest, lacing his fingers between hers to hold her hand. If Emily could choose how she was held by her next boyfriend, this would be it.

"How was the fair thing?" Albus asked.

"Carnival. And it was fine," Emily said. "Fiona and I ran the bake sale."

"Hmmmm," Albus hummed, his lips close enough to her neck that Emily could feel the vibration of it. "What else do they do there?"

"Every year they have pairs of professors do these staged duels and the students all bet on who will win," Emily said with a grin. "It's really the favorite."

"That does sound like fun," Albus said. "Have you ever been one of the professors?"

"No," Emily said. "Eric and I were talking about doing it this year, before everything happened."

Albus seemed to tighten his grip at Eric's name. Emily knew it might be her imagination. After all, she was the one who needed reassurances when he came up.

"What else?" Albus asked.

He seemed to fade in and out, but Emily talked about the different events and booths and how her student Sarah came up to tell her that her dad had sent her a long letter, which made Emily happy. Emily had been one step away from showing up on the man's doorstep and watching as he wrote to his daughter.

"She gets to go home for Christmas. I was really worried he was going to make her stay at the school."

"We used to stay at Hogwarts some holidays," Albus said. "Lily and I stayed at Hogwarts the Christmas my mum was in Australia."

"It's different for you, though," Emily said.

"How?"

"You knew your parents were there for you if you needed them," Emily whispered.

There was silence and she felt Albus move behind her. She turned and he was looking down at her, searching her expression. "Yeah," he finally said. "I guess that does make a difference."

Emily felt exposed under his gaze. Like he might see things she had shoved down and caged years ago. Decades, really. Things that were better that way. She forced a smile and turned just enough to lean in and kiss him. His grip redoubled and they moved slow and steady. She pulled back.

"You probably need some sleep," she said. She kissed his nose, then turned away and relaxed into a pillow.

Albus's lips pressed against her neck a few more times before he also settled in. Emily knew he was asleep once his thumb stopped moving along her wrist.

She couldn't sleep, though. Not for a few hours. Wizards and witches traveled the long distances with little time and expense, but it didn't make the time differences affect them any less drastically. In Emily's mind it was still evening and normally she would be at home by now, drinking a glass of wine and plugging away at grading. A couple months ago, Eric probably would have come over, too. They might have ended the night tucked together in bed. Like this.

Albus was shut away in his office most of Thursday. Emily woke up later than she intended, but showered quickly and got down into the kitchen to start cooking. Arthur came in and out of the house, spending an hour or so in his workshop, then sitting at the kitchen table, telling Emily stories about working for the Ministry.

"There was once these rugs being sold to muggles that were meant to massage their feet, but it would envelope them to do it," Arthur said. He had some metal contraption at the table on top of a swath of canvas fabric, using a screwdriver and tinkering with the various elements. "I'm sure you can imagine how that was received. When I got there, they were waving a broom at my head."

"How would you calm them down?" Emily asked. "When you'd get someone like that?"

"I always tried to talk to them first, but honestly, I became very good at confundus charms," Arthur said. "Then you could pretty much clean up the mess and let the memory modifying team take care of the rest."

"So they got to keep their rug?"

"Oh, no," Arthur said. "I think on that one we made duplicates and had to roll up the charmed ones. Quite the hassle. Our arms kept getting stuck when the rug would try and massage them."

Emily laughed and turned to check the boiling potatoes. "That was quite a job you had," Emily said. "Do you miss it?"

"Not terribly," Arthur said. "It was rather undervalued compared to other departments. I much prefer getting to see how these things work on my own now. Molly seemed happy to not worry about what jobs I might end up sent to as well."

"Did she worry about you a lot?" Emily asked. She wiped down the counters, finally in that sweet spot where everything was rolling and the next step was ten or so minutes away.

"Molly worried about everyone a lot," Arthur said. "Mind you, there was a time where everyone was facing a lot of risk here in Britain, but even after the war she would wake up in the middle of the night asking if I knew where so-and-so was at. She never really stopped being a mum."

Emily smiled and sat across from Arthur at the table. "How did she handle so many kids?"

"Oh, she wasn't happy if she didn't have her hands in a hundred pots. Even in school. Always some project or another," he said. He concentrated on one of the screws, his eyes narrowed in concentration, though his hand was unsteady.

"You knew each other in school then?" Emily asked.

"That's where we met," Arthur replied. "We started the same year."

"When did you start dating?"

"Third year. We were... fourteen," Arthur said, pausing to think.

"You were together all that time?" Emily asked. Arthur nodded with a grin. "Didn't you ever date anyone else?"

"Of course not!" Arthur was incredulous at the idea. "Why would you date anyone else when you meet the person who makes forever make sense?"

Emily smiled. It was a beautiful idea. She wasn't sure she believed it existed anymore. "What was she like?"

"She was energetic and clever," Arthur said. Emily reached out to help steady his hands as he continued to work. "In school, she was friends with everyone. She was a wonderful mother. Always on top of everything. Almost nothing got past that woman. Granted, we had a set of twins that gave her a run for her money. Gave us all a run for our money. Tried to get our youngest son to make the unbreakable vow once."

"No!" Emily said.

"Yes," Arthur chortled. "They were just lucky I caught them on that one. They both would have gone to their graves if Molly had been the one to find them."

"So what do those two do now?" Emily asked.

"Oh, George runs their joke shop. Fred died in the war," Arthur said. He stopped messing with the screw. His hand dropped, holding the screwdriver limply as his bottom lip quivered and he looked off.

Emily reached over, placing her hand on his. "What was Fred like?" she asked gently, a soft smile. Grandpa Weasley looked over to her. He blinked out a couple tears.

"Just like George," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "The pair of them were identical down to their thoughts."

Grandpa Weasley continued with a variety of stories about the twins, his tone becoming enthusiastic again as Emily interjected with questions and laughter. When the yams were finished, she had him take a quick taste, then got onto the mashed potato and checked on the turkey.

Albus had more owls than ever to answer. He was finding the balance of what to delegate, what to handle himself, and received lots of questions from his workers. The owls gave him pause and almost made him revert to his old ways until he realized that their earnest inquiries were an attempt to do things right. Albus had often worked under the assumption that if it was going to be done right, he had to do it.

As things changed he would need to go in and do a training, perhaps. Or hold a meeting and come to some consensus on the nuances of how things should run. Maybe he could even get to the point that he was mostly supervising the completed writings, sending for edits before implementation. Albus had never felt so free from the heavy burden of work.

Around one he sat back, having completed a dozen letters and sent them off with his owl. He sat back in his chair, stretched, and took a deep breath. His stomach growled and the smells of Emily's cooking wafted up the stairs. He decided he would just grab a sandwich.

Albus took the smaller, and more rickety, stairs on the side of the house that lead straight into the kitchen. These were hardly used and made for a perfect hiding space when they were children. He was nearly to the tile when he overheard Grandpa Weasley and Emily talking about his grandma. Albus almost rushed in to change the subject before his grandpa fell into the stupor that normally followed, but he paused.

Albus sat in the stairwell, wrapping his arms around his knees as Grandpa Weasley continued to share stories. Emily's laughter made Albus smile. He was certain his grandpa hadn't gone this long talking about his grandma since she died. Then it happened. Not for Grandma, but for Uncle Fred. Albus knew the question about his uncles now was a dangerous one as soon as Emily asked it. Albus swallowed, picturing the look on Grandpa Weasley's face. He stood to go in and help when Emily broke the silence.

"What was Fred like?" she asked.

Albus waited. She seemed impervious to the awkward silence, waiting Grandpa Weasley out until he talked again. It took a few moments for Grandpa Weasley's voice to regain its normal jovial bounce, but it came back. Emily had pushed him passed the moment. Albus leaned against the wall, the stories being told now washed over him as he thought about this. Albus had wanted to be a comfort for Grandpa Weasley, but hadn't figured out exactly how to do that. He swallowed and turned around, deciding he'd rather not interrupt if Emily had managed so perfectly to get him talking happily that way.

When Albus got back to his office, he found himself less able to concentrate. Only in part because his stomach growled in protest. He worked for another few hours, getting much less done in the afternoon before he finally gave up, going downstairs to see if he could help with any of the last bits of Emily's holiday meal.

Albus took the regular stairs this time. He could hear Grandpa Weasley sobbing when he got halfway between the living room and first landing. He rushed the last few steps. Emily and Grandpa Weasley both sat on the couch. Only one lamp was turned on and the telly was playing something in black and white in front of them. Grandpa Weasley wiped at his eyes with his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly.

"What's wrong?" Albus asked, coming around, kneeling in front of his grandpa.

Emily pressed her lips together, pushing down a smile and Albus wondered how he'd been impressed by her sensitivity earlier.

"Grandpa what happened?" Albus asked.

"It's so beautiful," Arthur said, then hiccuped. "He didn't know how much they all loved him, did he, Emily?"

Albus looked between the two of them, confused. "Who?" Albus asked. "What are you talking about?"

"It's a Wonderful Life," Emily said, nodding to the television. "It's a traditional Christmas movie. I brought it with."

"Merlin, this is about one of those muggle videos!" Albus declared, both relieved and irritated. "Grandpa, it's not real."

"But it is a wonderful life!" Arthur declared, wiping at his eyes again. He reached out a shaky hand and patted Albus's cheek. "It's wonderful! What an excellent video!"

Emily's shoulders moved up and down, though she restrained the noise from her laughter, covering her mouth.

"Well, I won't get to experience it if I starve to death, so how about we get the rest of this dinner together," Albus suggested.

Emily took Grandpa Weasley's arm and nodded as he repeated bits and pieces that Albus could only assume were from the movie. They got into the kitchen and everything was already set out. The amount of food reminded Albus of the times they came to the Burrow when Grandma Weasley was still around, constantly cooking and stuffing her grandchildren with food.

"I just need to carve the turkey," Emily said.

"Let me get it," Albus replied as she helped Grandpa Weasley into his chair. Albus lifted the foil off the turkey and sliced it, placing the pieces on a plate and adding it to all the other dishes.

Albus sat and reached over to serve potatoes to himself when Emily stopped him, grabbing his wrist.

"We always began by going around the table and saying what we're thankful for," Emily said. Albus tilted his head, looking at her. "Tradition," she added.

"Well then, you need to show us how it's done," Albus said with a grin.

"Hmmmm," Emily said, thinking. "I'm thankful for excellent students who make teaching fun. I'm thankful for my sister and aunt, who have always given me everything I need. And I'm thankful for friends, near and far," she said. She reached over, placing her hand on Albus's knee under the table, "who have made my life happier, even in hard times."

She looked at Albus with a half smile. He looked down, taking off his glasses. He folded them and set them to the side.

"That is lovely," Arthur said. Albus and Emily turned their attention towards him. "And well said. Okay, my turn. I am thankful for my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, who give me hope for the future. I am thankful for muggles and all the brilliant things they come up with." Albus and Emily both chuckled at this one. "I'm thankful for new friends," Arthur nodded at Emily. "And I'm thankful for you, Albus. For all you've done to help me around here."

Albus swallowed, wishing he had done more of it with a better attitude. He'd try and have a better attitude in the future, at least.

"Now you," Emily said, leaning over to nudge Albus.

"Alright," Albus said, thinking a moment. "I'm thankful for all my family. I'm thankful that I have a job where I can make a difference in the world. And I'm thankful for both of you."

"Cheers," Arthur said, raising his glass. Albus and Emily both reciprocated, clinking glasses before they all dug in.

Albus watched Emily for a moment. She tilted her head at him, smiling. He reached over, grabbed her hand under the table, and they ate.

Albus groaned as he fell on his bed and Emily laughed.

"We ate three hours ago," he mumbled. "How am I still full?"

"I told you, it's hard to pace yourself with Thanksgiving dinner," she said. "Pretty much impossible. It's the Thanksgiving curse."

"I don't think I'll ever eat again," Albus complained.

"You just need to burn some calories," Emily replied. She sat with one leg tucked under the other on the edge of the bed. She leaned over and kissed Albus, her hand wrapped around his head. Albus trailed his fingers down her side.

"I don't think I can move," Albus said as she pulled away.

Emily laughed and stood up, pulling her shirt and jeans off. She undid the button and zipper of Albus's pants and moved to the foot of the bed, yanking at the pant legs. "You need to help me a little, here," she said.

Albus lifted his hips and she gave another pull, taking them off.

Emily crawled up on the bed, straddling Albus's hips. She leaned over him, taking his lips again. Albus wrapped his hands around her back, pulling her closer. He followed her lips, moving up until he was sitting. Emily reached for the hem of his shirt, taking it off and throwing it to the side. It landed in the general pile as she felt his torso beneath her palms.

When Emily turned back, Albus placed a hand on her neck, holding her still before she could kiss him again. "There was something I wanted to say I was thankful for, that I didn't know was a good idea in front of Grandpa."

Emily smiled. "Was it that you're thankful for friends with benefits?" she teased.

"No," Albus said, staying entirely serious. "I heard you talking with him earlier. About Grandma and Fred and… everything."

"Oh?" Emily asked, unsure of where this was headed.

"I'm thankful you've been here lately, Em," Albus said. "I'm thankful you seem to understand him the way the rest of us don't."

"What do you mean?"

"We haven't talked to him much about Grandma since she died," Albus explained. "It usually just makes him profoundly sad. Even the good stories. But you get him talking and staying happy. I don't know how you do it."

"I don't do anything," Emily said, shaking her head.

"You do," Albus said. "And I want you to know I'm very glad for it." His green eyes shifted between hers. He moved his other hand up, caressing her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're changing my perspective on a lot of things," he added.

Emily turned her head, kissing the inside of Albus's wrist that held her still. She ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him into her.

Even though she didn't say it, she found herself more and more grateful for Albus as well. He wasn't anything like the men she had been with in the past. None of them would have said anything quite so genuine and thoughtful. And none of them made her feel the way he could.

Arthur rode his new Comet 140 to meet Molly at the top of the hill near his house. They had just finished their sixth year and Molly was coming to spend two weeks with him while her parents went to visit Molly's aunt Muriel, who was living in Rome for a stint.

He landed, searching the skies until he saw a shooting green light and Molly landed in front of him, wearing periwinkle traveling robes and a black hat on top of her braided hair. It had only been three days, but Arthur smiled wide, dropped his broom, and swept her up in her arms. Molly dropped the used portkey, giggling with her arms around his neck. He dipped her back and kissed her until he lost his footing. Arthur slipped and dropped Molly in the process.

"Ah!" Molly yelled, her head hitting the ground.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, scrambling to his knees and trying to help her up. Instead, Molly wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him into her, smiling. Arthur pulled back. Molly's hat had fallen off and the soft fly away hairs framing her face blew in the breeze. "You okay?" he asked.

"I might need something for a headache later," Molly admitted, sitting up.

"Where's your bag?"

Molly took out her wand and with a wave, it appeared between them. Arthur stood and picked up her bag, holding out a hand to help Molly up as well. She beamed at him, holding his hand. He bent down and picked up the broom, walking hand-in-hand with Molly towards his house rather than flying back. It gave them more time alone. They caught up on what little there was quickly. Billius had officially moved out (something Arthur was grateful for) and Molly had spent the first week and a half of summer redecorating her room, adding a few pictures of the two of them to her walls.

Arthur opened the front door and lead Molly through.

"Arthur? Is that you?" his mum asked.

"Yes, Mum," he called back.

She came out of the kitchen, smoothing out the apron covered in bread flour. "Why hello there, dear," she said, coming over to the two of them, holding Molly's arms and examining her. "Arthur has told us all about you. Welcome."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Molly said. Arthur knew she was nervous, though he had promised her in their owls that his mother was more than excited to meet her and that everything would be fine.

"Oh, call me Cedrella, dear," she said. "Arthur, love, take her bag to Billius's old room. It's all made up for her."

Arthur watched as his mum put her arm around Molly and the latter looked over her shoulder at him. Arthur smiled as they walked toward the kitchen. He went to the back of the house where the bedrooms were.

"She here?" his 13 year old brother, Barbary, asked.

"Yeah. Mum took her into the kitchen," Arthur answered.

Barbary sat up in his bed. "How long is she here again?"

"Two weeks," Arthur said. "Why?"

"You know why," Barbary said. "Mum's going to be all serious about manners and shit until she's gone."

Arthur smiled. That was the trade off. He supposed he had more to get out of it than Barbary. "Just put in some extra hours at work," he suggested.

"You know, I think I might," Barbary said. "That said, I smell cookies. Mum never makes cookies."

Barbary passed by Arthur, hurrying into the kitchen to take advantage of the situation as Arthur made it back to the room. When he joined the others, Molly seemed more comfortable than before, talking with his mother and laughing as Cedrella smacked Barbary's hand from taking another cookie.

"You've had enough," Cedrella said. "Go out and de-gnome the garden, if you're bored."

"Can I at least have another cookie if I do?"

"Sure," Cedrella said with a sigh and Barbary ran out the door. Cedrella turned her attention back to Molly. "Tell me about your parents, dear. What do they do?"

The next few days passed pleasantly. They went flying in the yard each afternoon, though they had to stay low because of a few muggle neighbors. Arthur grabbed Molly's hand and pulled her towards the forest to wander around after they landed that third day.

"I want to come," Barbary said.

"Not this time," Arthur said. "You can come with us tomorrow."

Barbary huffed, but it didn't bother Arthur. They walked through the trees and Arthur gave Molly a hand as she stepped up on a rocky ledge. They were a decent way into the foliage when Arthur turned Molly around, pinning her against a tree and holding both her hands behind her back. She bit her bottom lip looking up at him.

"How are you?"

"What do you mean?" Molly laughed. "I've been with you almost the entire time."

"Except when I've gone to work in the mornings," Arthur said. Their dad worked in the production department at The Daily Prophet and each summer Arthur and his brothers worked part time with a few other students getting the editions sent out each morning. "I just wanted to make sure you're enjoying yourself."

Molly smiled wide. Her bright brown eyes sparkled, making Arthur's heart leap. "I am," she said. "Your mum is the sweetest."

"She always wanted a daughter," Arthur said. "We used to dress up Barbary and let her pretend a bit."

"Really?" Molly laughed.

"No, not really," Arthur said. "We just tell him that sometimes to get a rise from him."

"You're such a tease," she said.

Arthur leaned in, his nose grazing hers. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmm-hmmm," she replied.

Arthur was about to kiss her when she pulled to the right.

"What's that over there?" she asked.

Arthur turned around, looking through the trees. "What's what?" he asked.

"Right there," Molly said. She let go of Arthur's hands and made her way towards where she was talking about. They were halfway there before Arthur noticed. It was an old, worn building. "Does anyone live here?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Arthur said. They were at least a couple miles from his parents' house. "It doesn't look lived in."

Molly walked up to one of the dirty windows, rubbing a spot and trying to peek in. "It's empty inside."

There were brambles and overgrowth all over. Vines covered the door. Arthur pulled out his wand and cut them down, opening the door. There were only three rooms—a sitting room, a bedroom, and a kitchen. Nothing else. Half of the glass was broken and the roof was starting to sink in.

"There's something charming about this," Molly said, looking around. "We should fix it up."

"What?" Arthur laughed.

"We should fix it up. You know, just for fun," Molly said.

Arthur went to work. His muscles ached after spending a good portion of each afternoon since finding the house in the forest building and cleaning and fixing. Barbary came about half the time. Molly seemed to think it was cute when Arthur let him tag along, though he would have been fine without him, too. He already had to deal with him for four hours each morning at The Daily Prophet.

"Wotcher, Arthur," Benjy Fenwick said. They had both been doing this summer job together for the last several years. Benjy was a few years older than Arthur and had gotten to the point where he was working another full time job on top of this, apparently saving up to travel abroad. "What're you stretching for," he asked, slapping Arthur on the back hard. Arthur stumbled forward and Benjy moved on, ruffling Barbary's hair.

"It's just been a busy summer," Arthur replied.

"Molly's visiting," Barbary said. "For another week."

"Ah, I see," Benjy said. "So you've been…"

Benjy thrust his hips in a rude gesture. Benjy often did this sort thing and Arthur nodded towards his brother, who was clearly watching.

"Hey Barbary, mind getting me some coffee?" Benjy asked.

"Sure!" Barbary said, happy to be given anything to do by anyone older and cooler than him.

"Come on, Benjy," Arthur said. "He's only thirteen."

"Which means he's probably wanking whenever his bedroom door is closed," Benjy argued. "But really, you have caught her snitch right?"

Arthur felt his face go red. "No," he admitted.

"Wait, how long have you been dating."

"Er… two and half… almost three years," Arthur said. He never was clear on their exact anniversary. He usually just waited until Molly hinted about a special day coming up and had a card ready to give her as soon as it became obvious she expected one.

"And you haven't… really?" Benjy asked. "You've at least got hold of the quaffle right?"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

Benjy used his open hands to gesture grabbing invisible breasts on himself.

"On occasion," Arthur said.

"Come on, Molly Prewett… gotta take advantage of that one while you got it, Weasley," Benjy said.

"That's my girlfriend, Benjy," Arthur said, his voice heavy with warning. "And I'm not dating her just to catch her snitch."

"I'm just saying, Weasley, only one more year before you both go your separate ways."

Arthur didn't reply as Barbary came back with a mug for Benjy and they got back to work. He didn't like the suggestion that there was an expiration date for him and Molly. She was the best part of his life. The best part of each morning at school and he couldn't imagine life without her.

That afternoon, the two of them went out to the house in the forest on their own. They had stabilized the roof, cleaned all the windows, repaired the glass, and Molly had colored the back room. Today they were stripping the wooden floors. Arthur was clearing the dirt from the edges of the room.

"What's wrong?" Molly asked.

Arthur froze. "What?"

"What's wrong?" she asked again.

"Nothing," he replied.

"You're all quiet today," Molly said. "Are you tired of this?"

"No," Arthur said. "I just… what are your plans after Hogwarts?"

"I don't know," Molly said. "I was thinking of maybe training to be a healer. Or working for a shop for a bit. Why?"

"Am I part of the plan?"

Molly let out a breath and smiled. "Of course you are, Arthur. Is that what was bothering you?"

"Just a bit," Arthur admitted.

"Oh, Arthur," Molly said. She draped her arms around his shoulders. Raising to her toes, she kissed him. Arthur held her face in his hands, feeling it beneath his fingers. She bit her bottom lip as she pulled back. "You're my everything, Arthur."

Arthur grinned. "Let's get this place in order a little more, eh?" he asked.

They continued to work until it was nearly dark, then lit their wands and walked back to his family's house holding hands. They sat through dinner, Barbary bragging about how he got Benjy his coffee that morning. Their dad asked them all lots of questions and after dinner, they all sat around the living room, playing games and listening to the wireless.

Arthur gave Molly a kiss on the cheek and went to bed, laying sleepless. He stared up at the ceiling, hands under his head, and looked out at the twinkling starlight. Arthur sat up, grabbing his wand and crawling out his window.

It was nearly two in the morning when he tapped on window to Molly's room. He waited and tapped again. She opened, rubbing her eyes. "What's going on?" she asked.

"I want to show you something," he whispered. Arthur held out his hand and Molly looked back before putting on shoes and climbing through the window in her nightgown. Arthur used his broom this time, Molly riding right behind him. She hugged tightly around his middle as Arthur made his way to the house in the forest.

"There's lights on," Molly said. "Someone does live here?" she asked.

"No," Arthur said with a grin. He leaned the broom against the house and opened the door, letting her in.

Molly's jaw dropped open as she entered. There were tea light candles floating all over the sitting room. In the center, Arthur had set up a blanket, a handful of pillows, and a small picnic with wine glasses, already half full.

"Oh, Arthur," Molly said. She turned and kissed him. "This is so romantic."

Arthur lead her over to the blanket, sitting behind her, one leg propped up and fitting himself around her. He pushed her hair out of her face. Molly grabbed a glass of wine, sipping at it as Arthur flicked his wand, music played.

"How did you do that?" Molly asked.

"I stole the wireless from home," Arthur admitted. "We definitely have to get back before my parents notice all this is gone."

Molly laughed and bit her bottom lip.

"I want to give you a home," Arthur said. "I don't know what I'm going to do for work. I can't promise I have the rest of my life figured out. But I want to give you a good life. Whatever I have to do to make that happen."

Molly's eyes teared up. She leaned over and kissed Arthur. She took his hands, wrapping them around her waist. In that moment, Arthur thought beyond the next year and could see forever.