Long chapter ahead, my friends! But we are fast approaching our babies final year at Hogwarts! When I originally started this fic I really didn't expect to get this detailed with it, but here we are! Anyway, I hope you enjoy. :)
Summer Break 1967
They sat on the patio outside of Florean Fortescue's, both of their chairs pulled side by side to face the northern part of Diagon Alley. Molly leaned an elbow on the table top, staring out at those customers hustling in and out of the Madame Marvel's Magical Roots, Fungi, & Herbs across the street before being swept down the lane by the crowds of students with their parents and guardians. Another term was fast approaching. The penultimate one in their case. And even with the mountain of books they purchased, somehow Arthur felt mildly unprepared.
His guidance on how many NEWTS to obtain a desk job in The Ministry was as many as possible. This led him to believe that on top of the four courses he planned on taking this term (Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, & Muggle Studies), he would likely need to continue some independent study in three others he received passing OWLS in (Potions, Arithmancy, & Ancient Runes). He hoped seven would be enough to land a decent job. If he could even manage seven.
At least Molly had a clear understanding of what she needed in order to begin the Healer's course at Mungo's. A solid five Exceeds Expectations in their core subjects. He envied her for how cut and dry those requirements were.
Thinking of Molly, Arthur's gaze stayed on her. He studied her contemplative mood while they waited for their ice creams. Her hair was softly curled, pinned back just above her ears so as to compliment the short fringe that framed her round face. Her almond shaped eyes hid behind a pair of overly large, rounded sunglasses with red, pink, and orange geometric shapes decorating the frames. She wore a sleeveless, straight collared floral printed dress, showing off her shoulders and arms that were adorned with freckles. Inching his chair closer to her, he kissed her shoulder like the sun had done.
Molly hummed out of amusement at this, looking over at him and patting his cheek with her hand. He smiled back at her and their mouths met in a quick kiss before they sat back in their chairs. Their fingers laced together, joined hands hanging lazily between them as their arms rested on the armrests of their wooden chairs.
They developed a sort of silent shorthand in communicating their affections to one another over the last few years. It was comforting to have this, knowing not much sentiment needed to be constantly told and reaffirmed.
After several moments of just sitting together and watching the different sort of people pass by the ice cream parlor, Florean deposited both of their ice creams before them. He'd recently taken over his father's parlor, finally living up to the establishment that had been named in his honor. They exchanged polite thanks with him, and he merely flashed a quick smile and attending to another table of customers close by.
And then they eyed the others' choices momentarily, their hands releasing hands as they dug into their sweet treats. Molly went for a simplistic strawberry ice cream with hot fudge drizzled on top. He, on the other hand, went for marshmallow ice cream with half a dozen toppings. As he began mixing in the jelly candies shaped like grindylows, the rainbow colored sprinkles, the crushed nuts, the toffee bits, the raspberries along with the hot fudge and caramel sauce, Molly exclaimed with her brow lifting higher than the top rim of her glasses.
"Arthur, what is that?"
"My ice cream," He answered simply.
"Is it?" She snorted before pointing her spoon at the mountain of candy in his dish, "I mean. I can hardly see any of it."
"It's there, see?" He argued lightly, spooning up a huge glob of it all with a gummy grindylow hanging off the edge of it. Syrups dripped off the edges of his spoon and he shoved a big bite in his mouth to avoid making a mess.
His brain immediately felt on fire as he tried to eat far too much at once. He made a face, which she mistook for disgust.
Shaking her head, Molly licked her spoon clean of the strawberry and chocolate sauce. "See, it's revolting," She jabbed at him playfully.
"It's...delicious…" He informed her while recovering from the effects of the large mouthful.
She chuckled at him, taking a smaller sized bite of hers, "You are such a child." Then her spoon darted forward to steal a raspberry and ice cream from his dish.
"Hey!" He cried out indignantly.
"What? You can't possibly eat all of that!" She informed him plainly before taking a bite of his. He watched the playful expression fall from her face, and her mouth twisted into a frown. "Oh Godric's Galleon, what is that flavor?"
This time, he couldn't help but have a rather triumphant laugh, "Marshmallow."
Sliding her glasses down over the bridge of her nose, he caught a shine of astonishment in her eyes, "Are you sure you're not going to have some sort of sugar fit from this?"
He tossed his head back before musing in response, "Well...you can revive me if needed. Consider it part of your Healer training." Taking another oversized bite of the ice cream saturated with candies and syrups.
Molly rolled her eyes at him, sliding her glasses back up her nose. She countered lightly, "I'm not training yet."
"But you will be," He insisted softly.
He wished she gave herself full credit for all of her achievements thus far. To take five courses at this level surely wouldn't be easy, but she managed five Exceeds Expectations. If studying for their OWLs had been bad, he dreaded to think what would be asked of them now.
"Yeah well…" She tilted her head from side to side, weighing her options, "...if I end up passing Transfiguration." Her brow and lip twitched in a way that suggested this was an unlikely prospect.
Leaning over Arthur, nudged her arm with his elbow, "Well you can't be brilliant in every course."
Snorting and shooting him an unconvinced look that was discernible from behind her dark lenses, she disagreed while scooping up more ice cream, "I'm far from brilliant. I can't even produce a Patronus."
The last sentence came out with a sour edge. He knew how difficult producing a corporal Patronus could be, he was even surprised by his own abilities with the task. Almost as surprised by the happy thought he found he could use to harness it. Even with this knowledge of difficulty level, he felt Molly's frustrations as she scraped up more ice cream from the side of the bowl.
"Well..." He began a little uncertainly, finishing with, "…most people can't do the full thing."
"You can," She addressed this with a heated note.
Exhaling he stumbled to find an answer that would sate her exasperation, "Yes well...that's…I'm just lucky...I guess."
Her tone grew softer now, with an almost shy quality ringing throughout it as she turned her head a fraction towards him. "Why won't you tell me what your happy memory is?"
Because it isn't a memory, he thought. Instinctively his mouth curled up at the edges as he brought the image to the forefront of his mind. His heart hammered in his ears as he toyed with the idea of telling her just now of the thought strong enough to conjure up his silver, misty weasel.
Molly pulled off her sunglasses, arching a brow while she waited for him to reply.
His cheeks reddened and he glanced down at his ice cream. He couldn't tell her. It was too…much. It would be too much. Who thought about these things at their age anyway? When he spoke again his voice was quiet, "Because. It's personal."
"You mean it's not something to do with me?" She huffed; her response more indignant than he would have liked to hear.
He exhaled deeply, "Molly…"
"It's alright if it's not," She told him with her hands coming up in mock surrender. "I mean, if it had to do with Emmeline Vance, I might be a bit put out but…"
At the sheer mention of Emmeline, Arthur found himself growing defensive. He interjected rather nonplussed, "What makes you think...I mean if it's not you then...why would it be…?"
She smiled genially at him, a lilt of laughter detectable in her words, "I was only joking, Arthur." Casting her gaze somewhere in the distance she then remarked a bit thoughtfully, "But it is a bit odd, really. My life hasn't been sad. And yet. I don't know why I can't do it."
Her eyes landed on him once more, silently seeking answers that he couldn't precisely give her. It was advanced magic he hadn't expected himself capable of. How could he find an explanation for her inability to perform one, when he didn't fully understand his ability to do so?
Shrugging, he tried to piece together an acceptable response, "Well I-I suppose happiness isn't the only positive emotion one feels when trying to conjure up a memory. But it is the one that seems to count the most."
"And so, you were happiest when…?" She leaned over her chair, clinging to his arm suddenly while she probed him with a pseudo-innocent look.
He had to give her credit for trying to pry the information from him. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. Not yet. It wasn't the right moment. Besides, if he vocalized it and things turned out differently than he envisioned them turning out, he wasn't entirely sure he could conjure a Patronus again. And knowing that he would be awarded extra points on his NEWT for conjuring one, he kept silent.
Arthur kissed the tip of her nose before patting her hand and informing her, "I'll tell you someday."
She pouted in a way he found most endearing, "Just not today?"
"No, not today," He smiled softly at her, keeping his face close to hers. His forefinger stroked the back of her hand.
"Fine," She let out a dramatically disgruntled sigh, leaning back in her seat.
Amused by having this amount of power of this insignificant detail, Arthur went on teasingly, "You know, you're quite cute when you're like this."
She made a face like she might at one of her parents bestowing a compliment to her, "Like what?"
"I dunno," He shrugged, feeling his cheeks redden as he failed to properly categorize it. "Just how you are right now."
Sucking another spoonful of ice cream down, her lips twisted to the side, and she taunted, "Trying to win me over, are you?"
Arthur cocked his head to one side and wondered, "Do I have to? I thought I'd already done."
Snorting at this, she looked away and muttered, "Shut up."
He chuckled in turn, watching her face flush as he verbally bested her again. Wiping the residual stickiness from his mouth with a napkin, Arthur pushed back his chair and informed her, "Come on, if we finish early enough, maybe you can pop over mine before heading home?"
"Maybe?" She quipped, shoving her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before giving him a sly grin.
"Alright, you know it's a sure thing," His face grew warmer now.
"It's not a bad thing," Molly informed him lightly as she stood to gather her recent purchases.
Arthur shot her a curious look.
Shrugging she added, "Being a sure thing, I mean. So few things are certain anymore." As she hauled her books up from the empty chair across from them, he made a move to take them off her hands. His arms strained under the weight of nearly a dozen books, but her next remark made him feel lighter.
"I'm glad you're one of them."
Once they spent a small fortune at Madame Marvels, in order to gain some additional practice for their Potions NEWT, they strolled down the street, baskets heavy with supplies for the school year. Arthur swayed a bit awkwardly under the weight of a dozen books that Molly thoughtfully gave to him to carry.
As they wove between a large family of about five or six trying to stick close together, Molly heard him grumbling, "Of course, we chose this year to come by ourselves. And of course, we're assigned the heaviest books."
Shuffling quickly to meet his long stride and fall in line beside him, Molly held back a giggle at his mild irritation. The amused sensation was soon replaced with a sort of sadness as realization dawned upon her.
"Yes well…it's our last year, Arthur. The last time we'll ever come here for school supplies," She angled her face back and frowned, her bottom lip sticking out as if this might somehow appease him.
He caught her expression and the shift in her tone of voice. But he huffed while they continued down the lane, sweat forming along his hairline. "Is that how this year is going to go? Anytime I complain you remind me that it's the last this or that?"
Molly scrunched up her face and shifted her books in between her body and the basket on her arm so that she could reach up and poke him in the cheek with her forefinger, "If it turns you back into your usually sunny self then yes. I will."
His mouth twitched although, she sensed he was trying to hold onto his irritation at having to haul the majority of their books down the street. "What would turn me back into my usually sunny self is a place to rest."
Scanning the street for such a place, she saw Tannen McLaughlin's Tea House coming up on the right. The shopfront was marked by a hanging teapot that intermittently poured scented steam into a cup that hung below it. The scent changed daily, according the latest brew McLaughlin was pushing to sell.
Gesturing towards the sign, she suggested, "Care for a cuppa?"
He stopped hastily in front of the doorway, and Molly reached forward to open it. A bell tingled overhead as she gestured for him to go ahead of her. She inhaled deeply outside as the scented steam swirled overhead. She was met with a spicy sweet scent that was something like cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger.
Once joining him inside, they shuffled down the narrow aisles of tables before finding one in the corner beside the windows. Arthur quickly deposited the books on the nearby ledge, shoving his satchel between his chair in the corner. Molly did the same with her basket, settling down opposite him.
She glanced around, catching the eye of a server who appeared to be around their age. She sauntered carefully between the tables with her parchment and quill hovering behind her.
"What can I get you?" She asked in a rather bored tone.
Molly asked, "Your special today is chai tea?"
"Obviously," She responded, smacking her neon yellow gum.
"I'll take that then," Molly answered briskly, sitting back in her seat and glancing around the tea shop.
The place hummed lowly with various conversations. To her right, Molly saw a group of four or five witches, dressed in rather expensive looking robes. Their hair all coiffed and slicked back expertly, their fingers adorned with oversized gemstones, and wrists glimmering with gold bands. They all wore the same patch on the right sleeve of their multi-colored robes. A black inverted diamond with grey silhouettes of three tiny witches peering into a cauldron, bubbling green. Beneath the cauldron the letters SoS prominent in the same green with tiny scrawl in a black text that barely stood out in between each oversized letter.
They were animatedly discussing the recent change in Minister.
"Lucky to have Jenkins, we are," One witch with feathery dirty, blonde hair and lavender ruffled robes stated.
"Yes, Leach's policies were borderline treasonous." Another woman with expertly lacquered, blood red nails curled around the long cigarette she smoked. Tendrils of blue smoke danced in the air before them.
Feeling something inside her tense, Molly glanced over at Arthur, who was finishing up his order with the server, so otherwise oblivious to the conversation taking place beside them. She thanked Helga for that. Had he heard their remarks against Leach, he might not have been able to suppress the urge to say something.
They exchanged polite smiles and then she jabbed with a tilt of her head, "Better?"
"Much," He reached for her hands, and they came together across the table. After a pause and a quick look around, he mentioned, "We never really came here, did we?"
"I came here with Mum a couple of times," She replied, and then something struck her. Squeezing his hand, she asked, "Speaking of, it sounds like you all had a nice holiday in Switzerland?"
"We did," He replied with a sudden light in his eyes that soon grew dim. "But it was weird. Without Dad."
Lowering her eyes to the table, Molly bobbed her head, chewing on her bottom lip. She suddenly felt bad for asking, knowing the subject to be a sensitive one with him still. But they promised to be open with one another about everything; with the exception of Arthur's Patronus, it seemed.
Exhaling, she wondered, "How is he doing?"
"Fine, I guess," Arthur shrugged, his mouth doing that thing where it would twist, smile, frown, and then draw into a straight line. He admitted with a slight bitter edge, "He's home even less now. Which has Mum all worried that I'm not being properly looked after."
He sighed deeply, glancing out the window. Her heart felt heavier now. She hoped that things got better between him and his father, what with Arthur's decision to stay with him after Cedrella moved out. But Arthur's presence didn't seem to be making the difference he hoped it would.
"Well I'd probably worry too," She admitted softly, prompting him to glance back at her. His eyes were glassy now, and she felt the need to turn this conversation around. She mocked, "You are hopeless in the kitchen."
"I am not hopeless!" Arthur retorted with notes of false indignation. "I peeled potatoes the other night. And cut the carrots."
She smiled in reply, her words producing the desired effect. "Alright, alright. You can prep." She conceded sweetly before lifting his hand to her lips and lightly kissing his knuckles.
"Yes, and you can cook," He lifted his brow at this while smirking at her, recalling the last time she came over to have dinner at his.
Blushing a bit at the memory that involved a bit more than just cooking, she noted playfully, "Yes well...let's hope you keep me around for a while then."
"Of course," He assured, the next words slipping out humorously, "I don't want to starve."
Molly slapped him on the back of the hand at this. But he quickly leaned across the table to press his lips to hers in a quick kiss. Pursing her lips, she nodded, "Uh huh."
A moment of silence descended upon them. She felt Arthur's thumbs rubbing the back of her hands soothingly. Her fingers tightened around his in quiet reply.
Then he suddenly asked with an air of keen interest, "What about your family though? I feel like we only ever talk about mine."
Taking in a deep breath, Molly briefly explained everything that had gone on in the Prewett household all summer.
"Dad's selling off the rest of the building materials. People are going to more established firms these days. Mum's doing more policy and law work for Squibs and MMA's and somehow gearing up to open more options for MMA housing. Gid and Fab are…well Gid and Fab. And you know about Rose, of course."
"Yeah!" He intoned excitedly, "Brilliant she's training with The Bats!"
"Depending on how it all goes, she thinks they might offer her a reserve spot at the end of the week," Molly informed him.
"So, she might not be coming back to Hogwarts?" Arthur questioned rather curiously.
"Maybe not," She shrugged, trying to maintain her sunny expression. But as this realization sunk in, she found it more difficult to keep up with it.
"Your parents are ok with that?"
"I think they'd prefer her to finish off the school year but…they know she'll do what she wants. And what she wants is to play Quidditch. She's of age after all. And legally they don't really have a say with what she does. So…" Her voice trailed off and she lifted her shoulders before exhaling deeply.
Lifting his brow, Arthur wondered, "Are you ok?"
Touched deeply by his concern, she bobbed her head, her tone quieter. "Yeah…it will just be weird. Hogwarts without her, I mean." The corners of her mouths upturned momentarily.
"Well you have Mary," He offered in an attempt to bolster her mood.
"Yeah, Mary's fine."
"And me," He squeezed her hands, leaning forward to catch her gaze once more.
Beaming at his confident expression, she mused with a wrinkled nose, "Yeah…you're alright I guess."
"Oh, ho ho ho!" Arthur chortled in response, his hands slipping away from hers.
Their bored looking server arrived to deposit their drinks between them.
Pointing a finger in the air, he went on with a ripple of laughter in his words, "I'll remember that I will."
"I'm sure you will," She smiled broadly at him over the rim of her teacup.
They sipped their drinks for a few moments, enjoying the low buzz that the tea house provided. After several seconds of indiscernible conversation, the table beside them became more animated with their discussion, making it impossible not to hear.
"All those dreadful government run programs to help others. What on earth do giants need land grants for? Or werewolf's jobs within The Ministry? Honestly, who would want to work with a bunch of half-breeds?" The witch with the smoky, blue cigarette exclaimed shrilly.
"I wouldn't!" A broad faced witch with iridescent pink robes and dirty blonde hair spoke up, raising her hand a bit theatrically.
"Honestly, what good are they!" The other witch with similar hair, but lavender hued robes remarked before sipping her tea.
"Does more harm than good," A witch with long, black hair slicked back intoned. "They want to turn as many children as possible."
"Disgusting, isn't it?" Resounded the witch with dirty blonde hair and pink robes in a prim tone, "We ought to restore ourselves to the old order."
"What d'ye think? A Sisters of Sorcery meeting?" Arthur jerked his head towards the group.
Molly nodded with an eye roll of annoyance.
The Sisters of Sorcery were an old institution that prided themselves on "traditional values." Blood purity, peace, and prosperity were the major principles they operated under. Anyone challenging "the old ways" became their enemy. And they would distribute misinformation regarding these individuals and groups in order to incite fear in Purebloods within their community. They used tactics to showcase how individuals ways of life were being threatened. They prided themselves on being a feminist group, yet those they were in league with suppressed them through their own manipulation. Demelza once told Molly that she doubted any of them had an original thought beyond what the men in their lives told them to think and spout.
"And that dreadful housing plan Leach approved for all those Muggle urchins? Honestly, my galleons are better spent for real causes." The woman with the cigarette spoke, her voice dripping with disdain.
"Yes, and those living in MMA Housing aren't even wanted by their Muggle parents. So why should they become our problem?" The dirty blonde in pink shrugged offhandedly, daintily sipping from her rose printed teacup.
"Hear, hear, we ought to send them back to the Muggle World where they belong."
Something inside of Molly snapped in that moment. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. They were a disgrace not only for dragging the good work her mother had done, but also for dragging the reputation of the innocent children themselves. They certainly didn't ask to be born as they were. They only ever asked for love and acceptance. And here these women were going on about them as though they were a burden to their society.
Her blood reached a boiling point, and her heart beat fiercely against her ribs as she rose to her feet and stormed over to their table.
The conversation slowly dwindled as one, then two, and then the rest of them eyed her rather curiously. "Excuse me?" She began sharply feeling the whoosh of blood in her ears, "Did I just hear you discussing MMA Housing?"
"Yes, it's an absolutely dreadful idea isn't it?" Gushed the woman in pink, her brow inverted and eyes shining in horror.
Molly fired back, "I don't think so."
Swallowing and sitting back in her chair, the blonde woman remarked over the cup she held in her delicate hands, "Well…you're young."
The one with the cigarette sighed, shaking her head, "It's always the youth who get swept away by these causes, isn't it?"
"You know we're looking for new recruits," The raven-haired woman smirked suggestively.
"Yes, you're quite lovely. You'd fit right in," The blonde in lavender smiled sweetly with her head tilted to one side while she appraised her.
The broad faced witch stared at Molly, chewing on her bottom lip. Her words were stern as she included, "And she's strong willed. We could use some of that."
Molly had to laugh in order to stop herself from shouting, "Yeah well, I think that joining your cause might put a damper on my relationship with my Mum. She's led the MMA Housing project."
A tense silence swooped down among the group. No one said anything for several seconds, only the exchange of uncertain gazes and heavy breathing could be heard. Molly heard Arthur's chair push out behind her. She cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder, to see him standing, his hand on the wand pocket of his jeans.
"Well…" The broad faced witch in pink set down her teacup gracefully, offering a fake half smile, "we'll see how much longer Ms. Jenkins seeks to fund your Mum's little project."
"It's not a little project!" Molly growled back, feeling her eyes narrow. And then with a triumphant flip of her hair, she added, "In fact, it's expanding."
The witch with the cigarette stubbed it out and snorted, "Well…we'll just see about that."
The raven-haired witch spoke again, her tone smooth and polished, almost like this had been rehearsed, "Surely you can't be behind the sort of privileges these children are offered over our own…"
"Privileges?!" Molly balked, blinking back incredulously at them all. "You've got to be joking!"
The woman in pink began counting on her finger as she rattled off a list, "Fully funded school supplies, an education at Hogwarts, access to all sorts of careers, and monthly stipends for them to waste away as they see fit. Like I said, we should be tending to our own kind." She finished with a shake of her head and a pitying smile.
"They are our kind!" Molly challenged, her hands clenching into fists. Her head shot back and forth as she went on, "Whether you like it or not, they were born just as you and I were." She banged a fist against her chest for emphasis.
"Not exactly as we were," The woman in lavender remarked stiffly, her mouth drawing into a thin line.
The one in pink pseudo whispered to the group, "She must be a Mudblood."
"I am not!" And with that, Molly banged her fist on the table, breaking a teacup against her hand.
"Molly!" Arthur cried out, reaching for her bleeding hand.
She winced, trying to hold back furious tears from the defaming word paired with the slice across the side of her little finger that dribbled down the side of her hand.
"Let's go," He murmured, grabbing her shoulder in an effort to turn her away from them.
She didn't turn back but could hear them tittering behind her.
"Yes, listen to your man."
"He knows what's best for you."
Her anger at them soared inside of her, her body vibrating with an urge to turn around and give them more of her mind. But it was Arthur who kept her grounded by giving her half of their school supplies to hold. And it was Arthur who took her arm and managed to Apparate them safely to father's house.
Once she was left alone with him, Molly felt her steely exterior slowly melt. The feelings she kept inside regarding those horrible women finally bubbled over, resulting in her dropping the books to the floor and hugging her middle. Her throat grew restricted and she felt it becoming more difficult to breathe.
Had she really just done that? To make yourself a known enemy of the SoS was to be known as a blood traitor. How stupid she'd been.
"Molly…" Arthur pulled her body into him.
Her breath came in raggedly, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears that threatened.
After a moment of rubbing soothing circles at her back, he asked quietly, "You ok?"
Hearing the worry coming from him, she drew in a shaky breath and nodded vehemently, "They're...so...vile."
"I know," He agreed, tightening his arms around her trembling form.
She felt like she might be sick. Her knees were weak, her stomach churning from the viciousness of sentiments she fought against. She couldn't believe she'd just done that.
Arthur whispered, his voice breathless and amazed, "I'm proud of you, you know. That took guts."
Emotions clogged in the back of her throat at his words. How could he be so exceedingly kind to her? How could he be so steady and sure of things that she wasn't even sure of herself? He made her feel like she could do anything, be anything. And it would all be ok.
Swallowing back the emotions coursing through her, she tilted her face back and beamed up at him. "I love you so much," She said, finding his lips with hers as they shared a soft kiss.
His hands cupped her face, and he returned the much needed kiss. When they pulled away, he took her left hand in his, pulling out his wand.
"You should be the Healer, not me," Molly quipped while watching him mend the cut across her hand.
"Cuts are nothing," He told her with a shrug.
Her skin felt warm and tingly as he patched it up. A white line stretched across the side of her hand where blood once dripped. She ran her fingers across it before hiding it in her other hand.
She caught him watching her, and he turned her hand over in his. He stroked the once injured spot, and added with a broad smile, "And scars just show you're brave."
If you've extensively viewed HP Wiki and other additional resources, then you know that Nobby Leach was Prime Minister until 1968. I am accelerating certain world events in the canon timeline to fit within the timeline of this fic. As always, a huge thank you to everyone who has shown this fic some love. You are all gemstones in my eyes!