Year Five: Spring 1966
"I dunno how they expect us to survive this year," Reg bemoaned over his bowl of cornflakes one Saturday morning. "I mean, half a dozen spells that we have to be able to do properly for Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Plus be ready to write essays on any of them. Then there's at least three potions we'll be asked to brew out of the fifty or so we already know. Plus knowing other practical applications of their ingredients and all the different venom antidotes…"
"Reg, please stop," Arthur interrupted him, tossing his head back with an exasperated sigh. "You're going to make my head explode. And I need it if we want to get through a whole day of studying." He sunk back down in his seat on the bench, shoveling in a forkful of eggs.
Before Reg could argue, the girls descended upon them. Molly flounced down in the empty space beside Arthur, her red curls bouncing as she nudged his shoulder with hers. "Morning!" She remarked cheerily before reaching forward for a triangle of toast.
He flashed a brief smile before swallowing his mouthful of eggs. "We were wondering when you were planning on joining us," He remarked teasingly.
The sound of coffee pouring into a porcelain mug could be heard from Molly's other side as Rose huffed, "Someone kept us up past three in the morning." Lifting her brow and the carafe, she passed it to Mary who eagerly accepted.
"Whatever for?" Reg questioned, glancing between the three girls.
"Because someone else told that someone that she would make an excellent healer," Mary supplied, her grey-green eyes landing on Arthur before flying over to Molly's and then back to Reg's as though making the point.
"Yes, so now that someone is determined to achieve nine Exceeds Expectations," Rose finished, side eyeing Molly, who exhaled with an air of indignance.
"Oh honestly," Molly countered dryly, "I was just reading with my bed curtains drawn."
"And mumbling to yourself," Rose added before taking a restorative sip of coffee.
Mary informed her, "More like grumbling. You really can't whisper Molls." Her mouth curved into a sweet smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Sorry," Molly's brown eyes flashed in a conciliatory fashion as she remarked calmly. "Next time I'll go down into the common room."
"And it was our last night to have any hope for decent sleep," Rose fake cried before drowning her sorrows into her coffee mug.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Molly chastised with a roll of her eyes as she spread marmalade across her toast.
Arthur was seized by a shameless notion, which led him to lean in close enough to whisper in her ear, "You know, I could use some remediation in the common room one of these nights, myself."
"Arthur…" Molly dragged out his name while trying to suppress a giggle before she smacked him lightly in the chest with the back of her hand.
He pressed a quick kiss at her cheek, grabbing her hand in his.
This induced a round of various gaging noises from the other three in their group.
"Alright," Arthur started, casting a somewhat accusatory glance over at Reg and Mary. "You two were just as unbearable when you started, so I don't want to hear it."
"Mmm…" Rose swallowed a spoonful of cereal before pointing back and forth between the four of them, "He does have a point you know." Pausing she then allowed a smirked to spread at her lips, "Whereas I'm the group cynic who will likely die alone. So I can be as appalled by their behavior as I want, and not getting a firm Weasley talking to."
Arthur opened his mouth to protest whenever he heard a snort come from between them. He shot an incredulous look at Molly, who was trying very hard not to be amused by the current exchange. Reg and Mary were chuckling at this remark as well, but his gaze remained fixed on his girlfriend, who was supposed to be his ally in this moment.
Shrugging Molly informed him with a wry half smile, "Rose also makes a good point."
Swallowing the small flare of irritation that sparked inside of him at being ganged up on, Arthur took a sip of tea.
Just then the familiar screeching and the soaring of wings sounded from overhead. Arthur's tawny owl swooped down, dropping off The Daily Prophet and snatching up a piece of sausage from his plate before departing without missing a beat. "Good to see you too, Ringo."
Rose half choked on her cereal before offering mockingly, "I can't believe you named that thing Ringo. You're just as bad as all those Muggle nutters." She pointed at him with her spoon, her mouth half full of food.
Knowing she was merely teasing, but still unable to fan that fire of ire inside of his chest, Arthur countered similarly, "Hey, do I call you a nutter over your Holyhead Harpie obsession?"
"Fine," She offered a dramatic sigh followed by a wink to show off that she was only having a laugh. Feigning an apology, she amended sarcastically, "Sorry Artie. You aren't a nutter, you're just obsessed," Popping a handful of blueberries in her mouth, she tossed her bag over her shoulder and announced. "I'm off to the library, see you four lovebirds later."
Arthur took his hand back from Molly's before unfolding today's edition of The Prophet. Before he could properly take in today's major headlines, the familiar scent of lavender mixed with bergamot and black currant permeated his senses. Molly's soft cheek collided with his shoulder as she aimed to take a peek herself.
"What's new?" Molly wondered, eyes scanning the front page along with his.
Unregistered Werewolf Spotted Near Kent.
Magical Game Commission Outlaws Privatized Crossbreeding of Fifty New Species.
Unusual Migration Patterns of Giants in Albania Have Citizens Concerned.
Before he could bring up how offensive it was for them to group the werewolf headline alongside the crossbreeding one and before he could even get started about the use of the word migration in conjunction with giants, Molly quickly pointed to an article on the right side of the page, "Ooh Rose would love to hear that Minister Leach thinks all the Beatlemania nonsense will cool off. The band's taking a hiatus."
"What? No!" Arthur felt disappoint bloom inside his chest, eyes following to the place where she looked. The article continued on page two, so he flipped the paper open.
"That's good news for us isn't it?" Reg noted with an air of relief. "Rose is right about how hysterical they've made the Muggles these last few years."
"Not all Muggles go to bits over The Beatles," Arthur retorted with a swift glance up from the paper.
While he respected Reg and valued their friendship, this subject had rose up as a point of contention between them the last few years. Which was surprising really, considering Reg's relationship with Mary. But it wasn't his place to judge the particulars of their relationship and what they discussed in regard to Muggle things.
Even so, Arthur found such blanketed statements made by those in the wizarding world particularly short sighted. And he was often quick to remind his friends of that. Even if they regarded it as a form of matronly scolding. Or as Rose often put it, a firm Weasley talking to.
Reg exhaled harshly, "I know but…"
But Arthur was quick to interject with his usual protest of: "That's like saying all of us go mental for the Headbanger Harlequins. When we know it's only a select few."
"Yeah but this is a bit different you have to admit," Reg argued, his tone lifting with an acrid edge. "The Headbanger Harlequins are local to the UK. And to our world. This Beatle thing is global. They've even invaded our community…"
"Invaded I…?" His thought died on the tip of his tongue as Molly cleared her throat and seized hold of his hand, her grip tightening.
"Who cares?" Mary tossed out with an impatient exhalation. "They're only a musical group, Reg. No need for you to go to bits about them either," She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, bringing her cheek up beside his.
Arthur caught her sharp-edged look and thought better to offer up any additional rejoiners. If anyone had more authority to speak on this matter, it was Mary. He wasn't going to bring up how she was being complacent in what was often reported about her mother's people. It wasn't his place to judge her, knowing full well the complicated relationship she now shared with her mother.
"Come on we have a mountain range worth of studying to do," Molly piped up, in an effort to placate both boys. Finishing off her toast, she then nudged Arthur with her elbow, "We ought to head to the library. If we want to find a seat together."
He found himself automatically rising to follow her, stuffing his paper in the outside of his satchel. He could only imagine the direction the article regarding Beatlemania took, knowing the sort of opinion The Prophet held of Prime Minister Leach in the first place.
The election of Nobby Leach, their first Muggle Born Minister of Magic brought immediate criticism from the old order. Those from the Sacred Twenty-Eight were quick to lament how The Wizarding World was being invaded by Magical Imposters. Not only did they balk at the notion of having a Muggle Born Minister, but they also resented his appointment of a Muggle Born as his Junior Assistant and as Head of Magical Law Enforcement office.
Their argument was that an uprising was imminent. If those in Leach's inner circle were charged with enforcing the law, wouldn't they be naturally inclined to tend toward favoring Muggles over Magical folk? What was stopping them from rewriting magical laws and policies to ensure Muggles with Magical Abilities reigned superior over Pureblood Witches and Wizards? They already shown their fortitude in defeating a common enemy when their liberties were threatened during their first and second world wars. Who was to say that they wouldn't incite the same type of violence in The Wizarding World?
They were only afraid of what they couldn't understand. During his four years as Minister, all the poor man cared about was bringing Muggles up into the world and on equal footing as Pureblood Witches and Wizards. But members of The Sacred Twenty-Eight and their followers wouldn't hear it. They viewed lowering themselves to the same level as Muggles with Magical Abilities as degrading. They were here first. They deserved a higher claim to everything in this world.
And certain riotous events in Muggle London hadn't helped Leach in his fight for equal rights. One of which was Beatlemania. And an unfortunate incident in which three girls from prominent, pureblood families died as a result of taking Muggle hallucinogens at one of the concerts only furthered the others cause to overthrow him.
The poor man was trying to push for progress. Yet their world hardly seemed ready for it.
"Arthur?" Molly's soft voice invaded his thoughts. "You alright?"
"Yeah, just thinking," He answered, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.
She probed, "About?"
"The Prophet's opinion of the minister," He went on blandly, his mouth twitching. "According to them he really can't do right, no matter what."
"It is a shame, really," Molly agreed with a heavy sigh.
While she didn't often stay up to date with the majority of political policies and opinion columns like he did, she always lent him an ear. And it was more than he could ask for really.
"Hopefully though, this whole Beatlemania thing ends," She went on. "And The Prophet will go back to focusing on the issues that really matter."
"But you see Molly, this does matter," He informed her plainly. "Any time they write poorly about a movement in the Muggle World, no matter what it is, they're opening up opportunities for prejudices to spread."
She grinned, teasing, "Is that you or your mother talking?"
His face turned warm, and his heart beat rather defensively now. "So, what if I have the same beliefs as my mother? You're in the fight for equality too, yes?"
Her brow flew up out of surprise by the sudden shift in his tone and she balked, "Hey. I'm on your side."
"Right," He replied contritely. "Sorry."
Threading her arm through his, they strolled arm in arm down the corridor. "I love that you care so much," There was a sweetness in her voice that made him smile. "I really do. Which is why we should think about what we want to study today. So, you can get that big job at The Ministry. And be the voice of change."
The way she clung to him, made him feel needed, inciting a sort of fluttering inside of him. He felt lighter than air as he asked, "What do you want to work on today?"
"History of Magic?" She suggested with a screwed up facial expression that suggested she'd rather do anything but that. "We haven't even touched on anything from the previous years in that subject."
He nodded, "Right, and that one is within the first week? Perhaps if there's time we should finish with the practical Potions review?"
"Oh, Slughorn practically gave me a guide of everything on the exam at the last dinner club meeting," She beamed up at him conspiratorially, to which he offered a complimentary smile that made her laugh.
"Molly Prewett, breaking all the rules," He tutted in mock disapproval.
"Well…do you want the answers or don't you?" She mused, angling her face forward and peering up at him suggestively.
Not sure he trusted himself to give an appropriate answer, he changed the course of their conversation, "What about Transfiguration? Those conjuring spells are bound to be ruthless."
"Good point," She bobbed her head before joking, "McGonagall takes no prisoners."
"Certainly not," He laughed at this comment.
It was so easy being with her. Like they'd done it for an entire lifetime. In spite of all the stress that bounced around in his gut, Arthur had to thank some higher power that he had Molly to make it all seem bearable somehow.
"Only two more weeks," Molly remarked dreamily as they ascended the spiral staircase to their dormitories, following hours upon hours of studying. "Then we can do whatever we please." As they rounded the corner to the landing where her room was situated, she twirled around and beamed up at him. Tossing her arms over his shoulders, she revealed in her next thought, "And then the summer holidays we be upon us."
His mouth curved into an easy smile, his hands finding their usual place at her waist. Molly stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips against his in a long-awaited kiss.
They'd gone all day without giving into this form of desire that ran like an undercurrent in a stream anytime they were together. Now that they were alone on the deserted staircase, they allowed themselves to be carried away by its force.
After several seconds, their mouths pulled away. Arthur then informed her softly, "I forgot to mention it at breakfast. But I'll be staying with Bilius in Hogsmede for the summer."
Her brow rose and she questioned, "Oh?" Feeling her stomach putter unexpectedly at this revelation.
"Yeah, I got a summer job at The Leaky Cauldron," He cracked a rather proud grin.
"Oh, that's brilliant!" She exclaimed, her fingers scratching the back of his neck affectionately.
He nodded, "Yeah, Bilius place is only two grates from it, as opposed to the four if I would be living with Mum and Dad."
His smile grew more suggestive that mischievous glint in his eyes often signaling his want for her. But this prompted the puttering to stop inside her gut and she felt her stomach tighten uncomfortably. The thought of visiting him at his brothers as opposed to his parents was a little daunting. There would undoubtedly be more privacy between them there. Something that she wasn't quite ready to be presented with.
Chewing on her bottom lip, Molly inclined her head, and answered neutrally, "Makes sense."
"I assume you'll be working at MMA House?" He tucked a strand of red behind her ear. The gentle gesture captured her attention once more, and she felt her discomfort melting away.
"Yes," Her arms tightened around his neck and she pouted with a slight frown. "But we'll still see each other, yeah?"
"Definitely. I want you to meet Dad." He smiled reassuringly, kissing the tip of her nose.
"Oh yes," Her expression lit up as though she suddenly remembered, "my father wants to meet you as well. Ever since Gid and Fab let it slip to them that we were dating…" Her trailed off, her tone lifting out of mild annoyance.
"Does he?" Arthur intoned curiously.
"Well…I am his only daughter," She replied with an assured smirk.
"My…" His eyes widening and mouth drawing into a tight line, "…that sounds rather terrifying."
Bringing her hands down to the front of his robes, she patted his shoulders and told him softly, "He's a good man. And so are you."
"I'm not that good," Arthur teased, closing the space between their mouths once more.
She laughed softly against his lips. After returning the gesture, his mouth dipped down the curve of her neck and her laughter was replaced with labored breathing. "Arthur…" She protested weakly, suddenly feeling her knees go rubbery as he continued lining her neck with warm kisses that stirred passion in her belly.
Her body arched into his in silent reply to the work his mouth was currently doing. There was something thrilling about her back up against the cold stone wall of the dormitory staircase, letting Arthur take control in the moment. Something thrilling that soon turned terrifying as his hands groped for the bottom edge of her jumper, his palm skating across the plane of her bare stomach. Her hands pressed his chest, lips finding his mouth before deliberately putting space between them.
Arthur relented to her mute objections, a rosy hue lighting up his cheeks. She glanced off to the side, chewing furiously on her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Then his thumb brushed against her lips, and he told her warmly, "Make sure you get some sleep tonight."
Her mouth twisted into a half smile as she wondered with her head hanging to one side, "Are you worried about me?"
He merely smiled, his eyes lowering between them.
"It's sweet," She assured him. "But I'm completely knackered. So you needn't really."
Nodding his head, he placed a slow kiss at her forehead before murmuring, "Good. Night then, Molls."
She scrunched up her face in response to this gesture before sliding her hand down his arm and squeezing his hand reassuringly. As she turned to enter her dormitory, mumbling a quick goodnight, she felt him pull her back until she stumbled against him.
He kissed her firmly on the lips before pulling away in one swift motion to brush his lips against the back of her knuckles.
"Oh honestly!" She crooned with a slight roll of her eyes, suppressing the urge to smack him for such an impulsive act. "Good. Night. You." She insisted with finality but couldn't help but grin from ear to ear at the ridiculously romantic nature of this gesture.
Pushing open the door to their dormitory, Molly rolled her lips inward, reliving the scene in her mind as she strolled around the coal heater to her four-poster bed. It wasn't until she felt a burst of cold air, and heard a wry question coming from across her bed that she realized she wasn't alone.
"How's the ginger dream team?" Rose asked from her perch on a propped open window, blowing smoking out into the cool night.
Molly scoffed, "Is that what they're calling us?"
She shrugged with a crooked smile, "It's what I'm calling you."
"We're fine," Molly assured, her cheeks hurting from smiling so broadly.
Rose took another drag from the pipe before remarking, "Judging by your face and the snogging that still occurs outside that door every night, I'd say you're more than fine."
Feeling her face grow hot, Molly grumbled halfheartedly, "Shut up." She met Rose at the window, leaning her backside on top of the ledge.
"But…" Rose continued, splaying a genuine smile, "…at least you are happy for a change. Makes it more bearable to be around you."
"That's nice of you," Molly coughed, waving the smoke away as it rose up between them.
She shrugged, "You know me, kindness incarnate."
Molly chuckled but then grew serious after picking up a note of sadness in Rose's words. "Are you happy?"
Rose bobbed her head with another noncommittal lift of her shoulders, "Yeah, mostly. Madam Hooch says a scout's coming next game." She paused, trying to keep her tone even, but Molly could hear the excitement bouncing between words. "They're looking at Tomas Dormont of course, you know, the seventh year Hufflepuff Chaser. But I suppose it doesn't hurt to show off a bit."
"Certainly not!" She squeezed Rose's shoulder supportively, "It could be really good for you."
Smiling in response to her reaction, Rose took another thoughtful drag on her pipe. After she exhaled, she reminded her, "Just don't tell Arthur. You know how he gets under the added pressure."
A trill of amusement rang from Molly, "Fair enough." They both stared out the window, watching the clouds pass over the multitude of stars and the vibrant half moon that shone brilliantly across the grounds.
It was hard to believe that in a few short years, they wouldn't be privy to this view anymore. They wouldn't be dreaming about their futures, they would be living them. Or so, Molly hoped they would be in that moment.
"I hope it all works out for you, Rose," Molly admitted suddenly. "You're brilliant at Quidditch. And spells, too."
"So you're saying I have other options if the Quidditch thing all blows up in my face?" She taunted with a dark, quirked brow.
"I doubt it will," Molly lifted her gaze in mock annoyance. "But yes, in case it does, you do. And…" She trailed off, sensing where her friend's thoughts might have wandered off to, "…I'll be here for you no matter what. You're like a sister to me, you know?" She tilted her head off to one side, smiling softly at her.
"Wow," Rose let out a low whistle. "Arthur's turned you into a complete sap, hasn't he?"
"Well…" Molly considered this for a moment, adding sarcastically, "I didn't say you weren't an annoying sister."
Rose's barking laugh sounded through the air, and she reached to bring Molly in for a tight embrace. "I can't thank you enough, Molls."
"You don't have to thank me," She decided.
Convincing her parents to take in Rose hadn't really required immense thinking. It was just something you did for those you considered family.
It was fun to return to scenes with all five of them again. Even if it was short lived, I really enjoyed incorporating these other minor characters back into the plot again. According to Wikipedia, Beatlemania took a dip in 1966 as The Beatles became disenchanted with touring and went to being a studio only band. Which explains why it is passively mentioned in this chapter. My fangirl bestie came up with the suggestion I include Beatlemania in this, and I had intended to do more with it than just be apart of Arthur's introspection, but given the timeline of this fic and with the band's timeline, I felt this made more sense.
As always, I appreciate everyone's time in showering this fic with attention. I hope you all are staying safe out there.