A few days later, Molly was sitting in her rocking chair, reading a novel.

"Mol,"

"What?" Molly looked up from her book as Arthur walked into the living room. The boys were outside playing in the snow and Ginny was in her crib.

"Molly, how would you feel about us having a Muggle car?"

"A what?"

"A car. A Ford Anglia to be exact. How would you feel about having one?"

"Why? What would we do with a car?" She said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Ummm...well, Bill's going to Hogwarts in the fall and we need a way to get him to London, and.. Well...we need some sort of transportation."

"Arthur, first of all, there's the Underground and the Knight Bus, second, why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?"

"Because...well...now Molly, don't get upset...I...I...I bought one."

"YOU WHAT!" She exclaimed, raising her voice and practically swelling with anger.

"I...I...I bought a car, Molly."

"AND YOU'RE JUST NOW DECIDING TO TELL ME? HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD IT? HOW DID YOU PAY FOR IT? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO DRIVE A CAR, ARTHUR!" By now, she had abandoned her book and was standing in front of him, hands on her hips.

"I just got it, today."

"TODAY?"

"Yes."

"ARTHUR, I DON'T KNOW WHAT,"

"Molly, just listen for a minute. I bought the car so I can take it apart to see how it works."

"TO SEE HOW IT WORKS? HOW IT WORKS?"

"Yeah, its really brilliant how Muggles get something like that to work. I want to find out."

"OH NO, NOT ANOTHER MUGGLE CONTRAPTION THAT I HAVE TO HEAR YOU GO ON AND ON
ABOUT!"

"Molly, please, I bought the car secondhand and its really rusty. It only cost a couple hundred galleons by the time everything was said and done."

"A RUST BUCKET FOR A COUPLE HUNDRED GALLEONS ARTHUR? WHERE DID YOU GET THAT KIND OF MONEY?"

"I've been saving for a while now, and I took a class to learn how to drive it."

"YOU TOOK A CLASS TO LEARN HOW TO DRIVE A MUGGLE VEHICLE, AND YOU'VE BEEN SAVING UP? PRAY TELL WHERE YOU WERE GETTING THE MONEY TO SAVE AND WHEN YOU HAD THE TIME TO TAKE A CLASS!"

"The money came from my paycheck. I took the class as part of my training at the office."

"YOUR PAYCHECK? ARTHUR, WE NEED THAT MONEY! THE OFFICE? WHY WOULD THEY TRAIN YOU TO DRIVE A MUGGLE CAR?"

"Because, someone in the department needs to know how to drive one in case someone decides to illegally enchant one. Molly, I promise, you won't have to hear about it, you won't even have to mess with the paperwork that goes with it."

"PAPERWORK! THERE'S PAPERWORK INVOLVED?"

"Well, yes. There's the registration, the plates, and the insurance."

"HOW ARE YOU GOING TO PAY FOR ALL OF THAT ARTHUR? AND WHAT ABOUT THE PETROL
TO FUEL THE THING?"

"I've got it all worked out. You don't have to worry about a thing, Molly-dear."

"DON'T YOU MOLLY-DEAR ME, ARTHUR WEASLEY! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! I WOULD HAVE AT LEAST THOUGHT YOU WOULD GET MY OPINION BEFORE GOING OUT AND BUYING A MUGGLE CAR, ARTHUR! HOW THICK CAN YOU GET? DID YOU THINK I WOULDN'T BE UPSET OR SOMETHING?"

"Honestly, honey, I didn't know what you would think or how you would react. Please can I keep it?"

"Arthur, if I hear one word about that car, you're going to be sorry." She had finally quieted down, her throat was going dry from yelling so much.

"Yes, dear."

"And, you can't put my name on any of the legal documents."

"Yes, dear."

"Now, go away. I don't want to see your face any longer."

"Yes, dear." Arthur hung his head in shame and went outside towards his shed, seeking refuge. The children came in some time later and saw that their mother was upset. They could tell because she slammed the dishes onto the table as she set it.

"Mummy, are you mad at somebody?" Fred asked curiously.

"Yes." She answered not looking at her son.

"Who? Is it Bill?"

"No, it's not Bill."

"Charlie? Percy?"

"No."

"Me and George?"

"No, Fred. I'm not mad and at you and George."

"Ron? Wait, is it the baby?"

"No, its not Ron or the baby."

"I know! I know! It's Daddy isn't it?" He asked, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Yes, Daddy's the one who is in trouble. Fred, why don't you go tell your father that dinner is ready?"

"Yes, Mum." Though he was only three, Fred knew better than to argue with her, especially if she was already mad at someone. He ran outside to the shed, while Molly set about serving the other children. She noticed that Arthur was taking his time; he didn't come in the house and sit down until after she began serving herself. He avoided her gaze as he ate, and when he had finished, he went back to his shed.

Deciding that she would deal with Arthur later, she got the children ready for bed and told them their bedtime story. When she was sure that they were asleep, and Arthur still hadn't returned from his shed, she decided to go out to the shed and see just exactly what Arthur had bought. The door to the shed was slightly ajar, so she slipped in quietly. When she took a look around, she was surprised at the amount of Muggle rubbish he had. Not that she really cared, she had told him a long time ago that she didn't care if he had it, as long as it was in his shed and she didn't have to see it or hear about it.

"Hello, Molly." He ventured cautiously, not really seeing why she was in his shed.

"There you are, Arthur."

"Come to yell at me some more?"

"No, I came to get a look at the car."

"But you said,"

"I know what I said. Just show me what I agreed to let you keep, huh? Then I'll go."
He sighed with relief; thankful she didn't come to have another go at him. He led her to the car, a rusty, old, turquoise Ford Anglia.

"I guess it's not so bad, Arthur. I like the color." She complemented, trying to find something to like about it.

"Well, it needs some work, but it shouldn't be hard to fix. But as all I really bought it for was to see how it works, I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"No. I guess not. Arthur, come on. You need some sleep. You have to go to work tomorrow."

"You mean I actually still get to sleep with you tonight? I don't have to sleep on the couch?" He said, the corners of his mouth turning up at the prospect of still getting to sleep next to his wife, even after their row.

"No, you don't have to sleep on the sofa. You just don't get any kisses." At this, his face fell. The couch was definitely looking better, if he didn't get any kisses from her, what was the point of being able to stay in bed?

"Molly, do I really have to go without a good night kiss?" He whined hoping she would take pity on him.

"Yes."

"Can I have one? Just one?" He begged, he couldn't go without his good night kiss. Her kisses were his favorite part of the evening.

"No."

"Puh-leeze?"

"No." She was beginning to get tired of his begging, and she had half a mind to just tell him forget it, he had to sleep on the sofa anyway, if he was going to act like a baby just because she wouldn't give him a kiss.

"Pretty please, with sugar on top?"

"No."

"But Mol, I need my kiss."

"You don't need anything. Now quit begging." She turned and left the shed and he continued trying to bargain with her all the way up to the house. By the time they had changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed, he was up to "I'll clean the house for an entire month," which she had laughed at. He was doing good if he helped clean for a whole week.

"Arthur, shut up or I may just put you on the sofa anyway."
"But Mol-leeee,"

"Fine. You can have a kiss. Just one though." Molly decided it was better just to give him a kiss, she was sick of his whining. He closed his eyes and leaned towards her, but before he could connect his lips with hers, she placed a finger over his mouth.

"No tongues though, Arthur."

"What?" His eyes flew open at hearing these words.

"You heard me, no tongues. If you stick your tongue in my mouth, I'm going to bite it. Got it?"

"But Molly, that's the best part."

"Well, you either get a kiss with no tongues or no kiss at all."

"Fine, I promise, no tongue." "Good. And for the record, I'm still angry with you. You're only getting this kiss so I don't have to listen to you whine."

"Okay, Mol." He closed his eyes again and kissed her quickly. She rolled over and faced the wall, as far away as possible from him and he rolled over to face the window. He hated being in the doghouse.