30 August 1969 – Proposal
Arthur whistled as he trotted down Diagon Alley to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, thoroughly enjoying the sunny late summer day. He spotted Molly sitting at one of the tables under an umbrella, with her back to him, so he sneaked up behind her and touched her nose.
"Arthur!" she squealed, leaping up and throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh, I missed you!"
"Me too," he laughed, giving her a kiss. "How was France?"
Molly shook her head. "It was amazing, but six weeks was too long to be gone."
He grinned. "I've only got an hour off work," he said apologetically.
She smiled sadly. "I thought so. Me too." She took his hand. "Let's order, and we can sit out here."
"Yeah, we'd better make this quick," he agreed, making his voice businesslike and brusque. Molly rolled her eyes, leading him inside.
"What can I get you?" asked Mr. Fortescue pleasantly.
They ordered quickly, and after they had taken their table on the sidewalk again, Arthur decided to drop the bad news. "Er…Molly?"
"Hm?"
"I can't take you to the Quidditch match this weekend," he said. "I know I said I would, but—"
"Oh, Arthur, really?" she asked, sounding terribly disappointed. "But why not? I thought it was going to be our first real date after I got back…"
"It was," he said. "But I need to go up to Scotland," he said. "I have to see an aunt, who's—ill." He heard the stumble in his voice and cursed himself. "She's got dragon pox, nasty stuff," he continued. Why was he inflating the lie? Stop, Arthur, stop!
But it was too late. Molly's eyes narrowed. "A sick aunt?" she asked.
Arthur nodded fervently.
Molly sat up straight, setting aside her spoon and removing her hands from the table so that Arthur couldn't see them. If he had to guess, he would say that they were most likely locked tightly together in order to stop her from strangling him. "Which aunt?"
"My great one." Oh, for Merlin's sake. Had Molly gotten some sun in France, or was she just turning red?
"Is there something you're not telling me, Arthur?" she asked stiffly.
"N-no," he lied.
Molly was silent for a moment, but she didn't break her gaze from his, not even to blink. "How's Cassandra?"
"Who?" he asked, genuinely dumbfounded; this seemed to make Molly angry.
"The redheaded girl from the Accidental Magic Reversal trainees," she said delicately. "How's she?"
Arthur laughed in relief; this was a big mistake. "I wouldn't know," he said hastily. "Haven't seen her in weeks."
This time, when she went quiet, Molly did look away. "Arthur, you know, I genuinely thought that you'd have a little more respect for me—for us—than this."
Arthur frowned. "What?"
"Just tell me the truth about why we aren't going to the Cannons match," she said. She wouldn't look up from her lap. "Just tell me the truth, and I'll leave."
"Leave?" he asked incredulously. "Leave?"
"Did you—I don't know, did you—did you kiss someone else, while I was gone?" she asked. "Did you kiss Cassandra?"
"Molly, you're being totally irrational," Arthur replied, feeling a little hot under the collar. "Be reasonable! You were only gone for six weeks!"
"Irrational?" she repeated. "Excuse me?"
"Yes, irrational!" Arthur said loudly; a few people in the vicinity turned and stared at them. "I break one date, one, in seven years of seeing you, for a real reason—"
"A real reason?" she scoffed. "That's the flimsiest lie I've ever heard!"
Arthur threw his hands up, exasperated. "What do you want me to say, Molly?"
"I want the truth! I want to know why you won't just tell me why it's suddenly so important for you to break our date, after I spend an entire summer away, leaving you alone with every new female Ministry worker doing her summer training—"
"Bloody hell!"
"Don't swear at me!"
"Don't accuse me of going after other girls, then, Molly!" he snapped.
"I'm leaving," she said coldly, standing and picking up her handbag. "We'll just talk about this later. Have a nice weekend."
"Bloody—d'you wanna get married, or not?" he shouted.
"Yes!" Molly shouted back. Then she froze. "Wait, what?"
"Like we haven't been talking about it for a year," he replied. At some point, he had gotten to his feet as well. "I'm trying to give you your proposal, Molly," he said, a little more quietly.
"What—but," she stammered, "But—"
"I have to see my aunt to get the ring," he told her. "If you weren't—"
"Completely bloody mad!" she cried, tears filling her eyes. "Oh, Arthur, I—I wasn't—I'm sorry! I didn't know!"
"Sort of the point," he grumbled. He sighed and felt around in his pockets for a moment. His fingers closed on a bronze Knut, his change from the ice cream parlor. He pulled it out and knelt down on the cobblestone sidewalk; a few passersby stared at him. Molly was crying in earnest. He held up the Knut. "Will you, Molly, you mad, utterly barking lunatic—marry me?"
She laughed and her tears spilled over. She took the Knut out of his hand with trembling fingers. "Of course I will."
Arthur gave a sigh of relief. "All right, then." He stood up and kissed her. "Now will you sit down again?"
"Oh, I don't think I can eat," she replied; she was so excited she couldn't even pick up her spoon. She kept looking down at the Knut as though it was the largest diamond she had ever seen. Arthur's impatience dissolved, and he smiled. She looked up at him and blushed. "What?"
"Er—nothing," he lied. "Can I have that?" he asked, pointing to her unfinished ice cream.
Molly beamed at him, and, as if for the very first time in all his years of loving her, Arthur felt his heart soar.
Aha! The answer to many a question I have received! Inspiration for this story comes from my own parental units, who got engaged in the middle of a fight as they ate breakfast in a diner. Thank goodness for suspicions about ex-girlfriends! I might not be here without them! XD hehehehe
