Love Letters
"Dearest Arthur,
Things have been so drab since you've left. Gryffindor has lost all of its games to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. There really is no question about how they'll do against Slytherin tomorrow. The team has seemed to fall apart without you. I watch the Quidditch Games now, I sit with Lily Evans, and you know her, right? (She was the one that helped me with my hair on our wedding night.) James Potter is the Seeker, but he's so scrawny and small that the giant beaters and chasers on the opposing teams have no problem knocking him around.
I've no heart to do homework. I only do it when it counts (or I'm extremely bored.) But all I seem to do now is write letters to you, Arthur. I do hope you're very well. Did you get that new job you wanted at the Ministry? Oh, I hope you did, for your sake! You'd make a wonderful Auror, you truly would. But, oh Arthur! You'd be gone for such a long time if you were an Auror. You'd be on dangerous and life threatening missions leaving me alone, making me feel like some old -- widow! (God forbid!) I'm not sure I could take that, Dearest.
I've thought of something (more as a mediocre joke then anything else) that I thought was cute. Well, Dearest, if we got a house and we called it "The Burrow" then we'd be the "Weasley's" in a burrow!
Love,
Your Molly"
"My Molly--
Going to the ministry today was the single most horrible sense of injustice I've ever encountered in my life! So what if I didn't finish school? So what if I dropped out? As you said, I would make a remarkable Auror if these stupid gits would give me a chance! I know I could! But, these gits just won't give me a chance because I've not been "properly trained." I know if I could just prove myself to them! I hope you won't hate me for this, My Molly, but I had to find work somewhere. So, I'm starting out as a Janitor working in the Ministry. It's the only job I could find that actual pays real money. It's only three Knuts an hour.
My Molly, I'm afraid we'll be poor all of our lives!
--Arthur "
"Dearest Arthur--
Oh, Arthur! Nothing in this world could ever make me hate you, Dearest! And, I'm truly sorry you could not get the job you wanted. I'm sure that if you could only prove yourself that you could. I guess those Ministry Workers have had their noses up so high in the air for so long that they've truly forgotten what was going on below. And, Dearest, I think you'll make a wonderful janitor. Why, I believe that the Ministry will have never been cleaner since the day you put that mop to the floor!
Nothing's really new here. I've gotten my test scores back on my N.E.W.T's. My, Arthur, from our test scores, I believe that we'll have truly dumb children! Of course, I don't want them to be dumb, but with our intellects, how could they be anything else? I've gotten myself a failing grade in Potions and Herbology. I've a minimum pass in the rest of the tests. They were terribly hard, my Dear! You could've at least warned me before I took them. Out of innocent (or bored?) curiosity, who do you think wrote these tests? They must've had absolutely no life, and must've memorized every book in the world!
I sat in the Astronomy Tower last night, looking at the stars. And, it gave me such comfort to know that you were looking up at the same stars as I, Dearest. My only wish, now, is that we will look at the stars together in our little "Burrow." What a wonderful thing it would be! Now, it seems so very far away. I love you.
Love,
Your Molly"
"My Molly--
I'm glad that you can find comfort in things you find at Hogwart's. I've never looked at the stars from that perspective before, but I reckon I'll give it a try one of these days. It would be comforting to know we share something, although we are many miles apart.
I keep all your letters in my pockets and reread them over and over during my breaks. I work ten hours a day and sleep in the supply closet at night. It's not so bad, really. The rats are fairly interesting. They're like humans in a way. Wizard rats are so much more interesting then muggle rats. Wizard rats have, well, emotion, my dear. There's one rat, (Patches, I call him) that's got himself two little rat girlfriends. Except, one of his little rat girlfriends (Lucy) has gone and had an affair with another boy rat (Luke). I don't think that Patches should be offended, because he has his other little rat girlfriend (Sally) to fall back on. Sally appears to be very fond of him, but now that Lucy has gone off with Luke, all he can think about is Lucy.
--Arthur"
"Dearest Arthur--
It fascinates (and worries) me that you can find such entertainment by watching rats. I didn't know rats could actually have affairs. I've actually gone into the School owlery a few times and found that owls (like your rats) can be especially flirtatious and jealous. I don't doubt your observations, and I don't doubt mine either, but I strongly suspect we are the only Wizards in this entire world (nay, Universe!) that care about the welfare and love lives of creatures. It's a bit sad, really.
Lily and James bicker all of the time. They won't quit it. James keeps prodding her to act more boyish (play Quidditch in her skirt, climb trees, swim in the lake, provoke the Giant Squid, etc.) and Lily keeps insisting that he sit down and enjoy the beauty of nature more with her. I know what you are thinking, Arthur, that I said that these two would get married some day and now you want to know what I have to say. Well, I say this: I stand by what I said that day. Lily Evans and James Potter will get married one day! They say that two people that argue a lot truly care about each other. I think it's adorable!
There's a student teacher here, now. She's only twenty-three, but they say that she's the cleverest witch they've ever seen. I don't believe it, but Arthur, she is very much prettier then I am. Her name is Minerva. She's very concentrated and disciplined and never leaves Professor Con's side. It's a bit scary. She's always taking notes like she's the student instead of the Student Teacher. Since she is so young, she'll have to be assistant teacher for a few years. But, I assure you, Arthur, when she does become a full-fledged professor; I'd advice those students to run! Minerva's scary when she gets mad!
I wish you well in all of your mopping adventures, Dearest.
Love,
Your Molly."
"My Molly--
Sometimes, in that cramped up little supply closet, I lay awake at night, thinking of how beautiful you are. My Molly, I cannot wait to see you this summer. I only hope that I can have a house leased by then. I want to hold you until my arms fall off; I'm so much in love with you! I've a picture of you and I hanging in my small supply closet. Molly, sometimes I feel like a silly teenager in love, but I know, that I am indeed a full-fledged adult in the work force and should learn to act like it.
It is so hard at times, My Molly.
What Malfoy would say if he saw me here! Does he tease you terribly at school? What about Seth? I'll kill them both if they've said a single nasty word to you, Molly. I hope you're well. The school year is almost over and it seems just yesterday that I started working in this miserable place they call the Ministry of Magic. It is March, according to my calendar. Why do the days always go by slower when you want something to happen just that very minute?
--Arthur
My Molly--
You have not written in a month. I'm beginning to get worried about you.
--Arthur
My Molly--
I've gotten the house, my dear!! Last night, I went in and lay on the carpeted floors (yes, dear! carpeted just like you wanted!) and just relaxed for once in my life! The owner took pity on a poor lovesick boy like myself and, oh Molly, it doesn't even matter now! We've a place to live! This is where we'll raise our children! Oh, you must see it; it's a little house in a valley. It's on the land of some rich man named David Love. (What you would say to that name, I can only imagine!) My Molly, I will meet you at Platform 9 and 3/4 on June 13th.
I love you!"
"Dearest Arthur--
I'm afraid. I'm afraid you will leave me if I tell you what has happened to me. I'm scared you will find another girl to give your love to: Another girl that will not become what I have. Arthur, I can't bear to look at myself in the mirror anymore. I couldn't even bear to write you for weeks and it just killed me.
Arthur, I'm pregnant."
"My Molly--
I've read your letter over and over, read it upside down and translated it into three different languages. My Molly, I cannot believe this! I wasn't expecting this so soon. You'll never finish your Seventh Year at Hogwart's. Molly, I so wanted you to complete your Hogwart's education. But, a child! Just the thought of me, a lowly Janitor with overgrown bangs as a father! I can't believe it My Molly! I just cannot! I've come up with a few names, you've said it was a girl, have you?
Louise
Nancy
Catherine
Lavender
Blythe
Beatrice
Annie
Marie
Molly (My first choice!)
Sarah
--Arthur (the father to be!)
"Dearest Arthur--
We are not naming the poor child after me, Arthur Weasley! Do you have any idea what it would turn out like if we did? Why, with stringy hair and the thinnest eyebrows and thin lips, it'd be very strange looking child. I finally get to come home to you tomorrow, My Love.
Good Night.
--Your Molly
P.S. I believe that this is to be the last love letter, perhaps one day we could show our children this and they could laugh their silly little heads off at us at how much in love we were!"
~-~-~-
Molly clutched the money in her hand anxiously. She had sold all of her items to a second hand Hogwart's store for a hundred galleons (not a bad deal!) and hoped to surprise Arthur with a few extra coins in his pocket. She knew that Arthur didn't eat much, and she had read somewhere that pregnant women ate more then women who weren't. Molly sighed. What a waste of money she would be!
She stepped off of the train, bearing a weary smile. Feeling oddly tired, she leaned against one of the brick poles and waited for Arthur.
~-~-~-~
He hadn't gotten his bangs trimmed since August. They had gotten to be rather long and annoying. He ran his hand through them and pushed them back, so they lay messily on the top of his head only to fall back down and brush against his eyes the next second. Arthur sighed and trucked them hopelessly behind his ears as he grabbed the Floo powder from next to the fireplace. He would have apparated, but it was prohibited within the muggle land where he was.
"Platform 9 and 3/4." He said.
~-~-~-
He coughed and sputtered up ashes as he fell out of the fireplace and onto the pavement in front of a Wizard family. They shrieked in surprise and went around him, muttering curses under their breath. Arthur picked himself up and groaned. He should at least look half presentable for Molly. He was covered in ashes and was wearing his old school uniform (he had no other clothes except his work clothes). He smoothed his hair back again and to his disgust (or ultimate benefit) the dirt and grime from the ashes helped it stick to the top of his head, so it no longer brushed against his eyes.
He searched among the hurrying crowd of students and parents, all exiting Hogwarts. He searched for the familiar glow of red hair that he knew so well.
"Arthur!"
It was horribly ironic that girl Molly's size (five foot one) could topple a person Arthur's size (six foot). But, nevertheless, she did. They both fell onto the sidewalk, laughing and hugging, never so happy to see each other.
"Get up, you silly prat!" Molly laughed, getting up, extending her hand to help him.
"Oh, God." he said, when he got up. "I've missed, you Molly."
"You better have, Arthur Weasley." she smiled
~-~-~-
They took a taxi to the small house that Arthur had bought from the rich muggle man. They waited a good five minutes, to make sure the taxi driver didn't turn around when he realized that they had been short two pounds. Molly stood, with her small hands clasped tightly, just staring at the small home that stood before her.
"Wow." she breathed, taking a step forward.
The house was just a small cabin; it couldn't have had more then one bedroom and a bathroom with just enough room for a small kitchen and perhaps a family room. It looked like a large tool shed, but Molly loved it. She turned around to her husband, who looked surprisingly sorry.
"I know it's not much, Molly." he shrugged, smiling.
"Arthur, I love it!" she cried, throwing her arms around him.
"Y-you do?" he said, his voice squeaking.
"Oh, yes!" Molly said. "And woods in the back of it. Arthur, it's the most perfect house I've ever seen!"
Arthur didn't dare to question what Molly saw in the small house. It was dirty, it was small and stingy and smelled like pine in the inside. He found the smell of pine repulsive, since he had spent so much time near the pine cleaners in the Ministry. He took the hand of his young wife and led her into the small house.
~-~-~-~
It seemed so odd that the small house, with the furniture seeming so big in the small space, could possibly feel so empty! Molly lay on the soft bed. It was a secondhand mattress and if she slept to the far to the left, the bed would fall off of the stand and the both of them would end up the on the floor. The bed wasn't exactly meant for two people. It would've been very comfortable, indeed, for one person. Every night, Arthur would come home late, exhausted and dirty. All Molly wanted was to provide a nice, warm, tasty dinner for her husband when he came home. She wanted to sit with him, and pick at his back, telling him that he needed to gain weight. She wanted to smile as he said, "Molly, this is delicious." with his mouth full. She would press her own finger on his mouth and say quietly, "Not when you're mouth is full, Dearest." There was only one problem with this childish fantasy of Molly's.
She couldn't cook.
They had a perfectly functional stove and cauldron heater. Molly hadn't been very smart in school, and cooking spells were completely lost in her textbook that she had sold when he had left (dropped out, rather) of Hogwart's. The only thing she could find that she could cook were chocolate chip cookies that tasted old and stale and burnt. She tried to cover it up with sugar and sprinkles, but it just didn't work. She had tried to cook a piece chicken before, but someway or another, it ended up walking across the floor, with Molly staring hopelessly at it. When Arthur came home that night, he asked if she had any dinner for him and she sullenly replied "It's running across the floor, if you can catch it, you can eat it." Arthur had simply laughed when she had said this and burst into hopeless tears, wailing about what a horrible housewife she was.
"Not many housewives could set their chicken running across the floor." He laughed.
"But, you work so hard!" she sobbed. "I just want you to have something warm to come back to when you get home."
"Molly," he chuckled. "this cabin is an inferno in the summer. I think that's warm enough for me to come home to."
She wiped her tears on her sleeve, and smiled sheepishly at Arthur.
~-~-~-
"Not working today?" she asked Arthur, bringing him a fresh batch of burnt cookies.
"No." he answered shortly, taking a cookie.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
Arthur was quiet for a long time. Molly knew not to press for information. Although it killed her that Arthur wouldn't tell her what was wrong, she respected his right not to tell her some things for her own good. Molly put the cookies back in the kitchen and thought of what she could've possibly done wrong. It couldn't have been her cooking; he'd forgiven her for not being able to cook months ago. She had washed the bed sheets this morning, pressed them with Lavender. She had rid the house of the disgusting pine smell with a simple incantation she knew from First Year. Maybe Arthur was just tired of her!
"There's not enough." He snapped suddenly from the other room.
He'd never had a temper with her before.
"E-enough of what, Arthur?"
"There's not enough money," he said angrily, ripping an envelope labeled in bright red letters "LAST CHANCE TO PAY UP WEASLEY!!"
"Oh." Molly said. Money was something she never interfered in.
"Is that all you can say?" He suddenly yelled, getting up from the wooden chair he was sitting in. "All you do is lay around all day and mope about what a hopeless case you are! You don't even have to worry about money, Molly!"
He had never yelled at her before.
"I-I'm sorry." she said pleadingly, suddenly wishing that she could cook just so she could request that they talk about this over dinner.
"Damn it all!" He yelled, kicking the chair over. "Maybe this was all a mistake! Maybe everything was a mistake!"
"Even our getting married?" Molly asked unsurely.
He turned towards her, glaring at her for a long time.
"I need to go for a walk." He said.
He slammed the door behind him.
~-~-~-
Molly stood there, trying so hard not to cry. It was all her fault! If only she had studied in school, she could've had a solid job and supported herself! If only she was smart! If only she could cook! Molly swallowed her tears and wiped her dry eyes. She bent down slowly and picked up the chair that Arthur had kicked her. Molly suddenly felt so old, carrying a child and getting in a war with her husband about money. She grabbed her cloak and grabbed a hand full of Floo Powder.
"Gringott's."
The Goblin stared down at her as if she was asking something unspeakable His beady little eyes seamed to be staring into her very soul.
"What did you say your name was?"
"Molly Weasley." she said. "Vault 223. I've my key."
She held up the small key.
"Weasley." The Goblin said. "Is not in good terms with this bank. Weasley is the name of the man and his wife who have some debt that needs to be paid or will be living in the woods."
"Please, sir." Molly pleaded. "Let me make a withdrawal from my Vault. I'll pay it with the money in there."
"According to my files." the Goblin said. "If you were to do that, there would be no money left in Vault 223."
"I know." Molly said quietly.
Vault 223 contained Molly's school money. Since she planned to go back to Hogwart's one day, she saved up a few galleons for her tuition. One day, Molly hoped to own a sweets shop in Hogsmeade. She knew it was a stupid little childish dream, but the few coins in her Vault were the only things that went towards her dream. Arthur had forbid her to spend any of her money in Vault 223. He wanted to see her finish Hogwart's, too.
The Goblin did a few things with his short wand and handed her two knuts.
"What's this?" she asked quietly.
"Call it a donation." The Goblin smiled cruelly.
~-~-~-
Arthur had gone into the backyard to chop wood for their stove. He would've used magic, but he needed to put his anger somewhere. Taking it out on Molly didn't work very well. He felt sorry for yelling at her for absolutely no good reason. What a complete jerk he was to yell at poor Molly, who was only trying her hardest to do things for him. She made the sheets smell like Lavender and rid of the horrid scent of pine that she liked, but he hated.
When he came in two hours later, she wasn't there.
He began to get worried. He never remembered Molly leaving their land except to go to the market, and even then, she would leave him a note. The chair he had kicked over was now upright. The batch of burnt cookies still sat idly on the kitchen table, not touched.
There was a knock at the front door.
Molly came in covered in ash.
"Where've you been?" he asked, angry.
"Here." She said, putting the two knuts in his big hand.
"What's this?"
"What does it look like?"
He looked at the two knuts.
"Were you out begging?" he asked.
"No." Molly said quickly.
"Then, where'd you get the money?"
"Ii can't tell you."
"You were out begging, weren't you?" He accused.
"No! Arthur, you must believe me, I wasn't out begging!" She said, grabbing his arm.
He ripped his arm away and stalked into their room slamming the door and locking it behind him.
~-~-~-
Molly leaned against the door to their bedroom. She let the tears come down her cheeks. She wasn't a beggar. She would never, ever beg for money. She wouldn't even ask for it. Even though she would do anything for her family, she wouldn't resort to petty begging.
"Arthur." She sobbed. "I paid the bills. You were so upset, and I felt so useless. I used the money from my School Money. I didn't want you to get angry. You work so hard and I just wanted to do something for you for a change."
Molly paused.
"I'm so sorry, Arthur." she whispered.
The door flew open and Arthur looked down at the woman laying on the floor, half asleep and sobbing in her sleep. He kneeled down and picked her up in his arms and rocked her.
"Stupid stupid girl." He said quietly.
"You were so upset," she whispered. "I was afraid you'd leave me. I was afraid when you left, that you wouldn't come back."
"My Molly." He said. "There is nothing in this whole damned world that would have not made me walk back in that door."
Molly looked up at him, her wet eyes as unsure and terrified, as they were the night he married her. He smiled.
"Arthur." she said softly after a while.
"Yes?"
"What do you think of the name Laura?" she asked.
"For the baby?"
"Yes."
"I think," he said. "It's a wonderful name."
"So do I." Molly smiled.
"Dearest Arthur,
Things have been so drab since you've left. Gryffindor has lost all of its games to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. There really is no question about how they'll do against Slytherin tomorrow. The team has seemed to fall apart without you. I watch the Quidditch Games now, I sit with Lily Evans, and you know her, right? (She was the one that helped me with my hair on our wedding night.) James Potter is the Seeker, but he's so scrawny and small that the giant beaters and chasers on the opposing teams have no problem knocking him around.
I've no heart to do homework. I only do it when it counts (or I'm extremely bored.) But all I seem to do now is write letters to you, Arthur. I do hope you're very well. Did you get that new job you wanted at the Ministry? Oh, I hope you did, for your sake! You'd make a wonderful Auror, you truly would. But, oh Arthur! You'd be gone for such a long time if you were an Auror. You'd be on dangerous and life threatening missions leaving me alone, making me feel like some old -- widow! (God forbid!) I'm not sure I could take that, Dearest.
I've thought of something (more as a mediocre joke then anything else) that I thought was cute. Well, Dearest, if we got a house and we called it "The Burrow" then we'd be the "Weasley's" in a burrow!
Love,
Your Molly"
"My Molly--
Going to the ministry today was the single most horrible sense of injustice I've ever encountered in my life! So what if I didn't finish school? So what if I dropped out? As you said, I would make a remarkable Auror if these stupid gits would give me a chance! I know I could! But, these gits just won't give me a chance because I've not been "properly trained." I know if I could just prove myself to them! I hope you won't hate me for this, My Molly, but I had to find work somewhere. So, I'm starting out as a Janitor working in the Ministry. It's the only job I could find that actual pays real money. It's only three Knuts an hour.
My Molly, I'm afraid we'll be poor all of our lives!
--Arthur "
"Dearest Arthur--
Oh, Arthur! Nothing in this world could ever make me hate you, Dearest! And, I'm truly sorry you could not get the job you wanted. I'm sure that if you could only prove yourself that you could. I guess those Ministry Workers have had their noses up so high in the air for so long that they've truly forgotten what was going on below. And, Dearest, I think you'll make a wonderful janitor. Why, I believe that the Ministry will have never been cleaner since the day you put that mop to the floor!
Nothing's really new here. I've gotten my test scores back on my N.E.W.T's. My, Arthur, from our test scores, I believe that we'll have truly dumb children! Of course, I don't want them to be dumb, but with our intellects, how could they be anything else? I've gotten myself a failing grade in Potions and Herbology. I've a minimum pass in the rest of the tests. They were terribly hard, my Dear! You could've at least warned me before I took them. Out of innocent (or bored?) curiosity, who do you think wrote these tests? They must've had absolutely no life, and must've memorized every book in the world!
I sat in the Astronomy Tower last night, looking at the stars. And, it gave me such comfort to know that you were looking up at the same stars as I, Dearest. My only wish, now, is that we will look at the stars together in our little "Burrow." What a wonderful thing it would be! Now, it seems so very far away. I love you.
Love,
Your Molly"
"My Molly--
I'm glad that you can find comfort in things you find at Hogwart's. I've never looked at the stars from that perspective before, but I reckon I'll give it a try one of these days. It would be comforting to know we share something, although we are many miles apart.
I keep all your letters in my pockets and reread them over and over during my breaks. I work ten hours a day and sleep in the supply closet at night. It's not so bad, really. The rats are fairly interesting. They're like humans in a way. Wizard rats are so much more interesting then muggle rats. Wizard rats have, well, emotion, my dear. There's one rat, (Patches, I call him) that's got himself two little rat girlfriends. Except, one of his little rat girlfriends (Lucy) has gone and had an affair with another boy rat (Luke). I don't think that Patches should be offended, because he has his other little rat girlfriend (Sally) to fall back on. Sally appears to be very fond of him, but now that Lucy has gone off with Luke, all he can think about is Lucy.
--Arthur"
"Dearest Arthur--
It fascinates (and worries) me that you can find such entertainment by watching rats. I didn't know rats could actually have affairs. I've actually gone into the School owlery a few times and found that owls (like your rats) can be especially flirtatious and jealous. I don't doubt your observations, and I don't doubt mine either, but I strongly suspect we are the only Wizards in this entire world (nay, Universe!) that care about the welfare and love lives of creatures. It's a bit sad, really.
Lily and James bicker all of the time. They won't quit it. James keeps prodding her to act more boyish (play Quidditch in her skirt, climb trees, swim in the lake, provoke the Giant Squid, etc.) and Lily keeps insisting that he sit down and enjoy the beauty of nature more with her. I know what you are thinking, Arthur, that I said that these two would get married some day and now you want to know what I have to say. Well, I say this: I stand by what I said that day. Lily Evans and James Potter will get married one day! They say that two people that argue a lot truly care about each other. I think it's adorable!
There's a student teacher here, now. She's only twenty-three, but they say that she's the cleverest witch they've ever seen. I don't believe it, but Arthur, she is very much prettier then I am. Her name is Minerva. She's very concentrated and disciplined and never leaves Professor Con's side. It's a bit scary. She's always taking notes like she's the student instead of the Student Teacher. Since she is so young, she'll have to be assistant teacher for a few years. But, I assure you, Arthur, when she does become a full-fledged professor; I'd advice those students to run! Minerva's scary when she gets mad!
I wish you well in all of your mopping adventures, Dearest.
Love,
Your Molly."
"My Molly--
Sometimes, in that cramped up little supply closet, I lay awake at night, thinking of how beautiful you are. My Molly, I cannot wait to see you this summer. I only hope that I can have a house leased by then. I want to hold you until my arms fall off; I'm so much in love with you! I've a picture of you and I hanging in my small supply closet. Molly, sometimes I feel like a silly teenager in love, but I know, that I am indeed a full-fledged adult in the work force and should learn to act like it.
It is so hard at times, My Molly.
What Malfoy would say if he saw me here! Does he tease you terribly at school? What about Seth? I'll kill them both if they've said a single nasty word to you, Molly. I hope you're well. The school year is almost over and it seems just yesterday that I started working in this miserable place they call the Ministry of Magic. It is March, according to my calendar. Why do the days always go by slower when you want something to happen just that very minute?
--Arthur
My Molly--
You have not written in a month. I'm beginning to get worried about you.
--Arthur
My Molly--
I've gotten the house, my dear!! Last night, I went in and lay on the carpeted floors (yes, dear! carpeted just like you wanted!) and just relaxed for once in my life! The owner took pity on a poor lovesick boy like myself and, oh Molly, it doesn't even matter now! We've a place to live! This is where we'll raise our children! Oh, you must see it; it's a little house in a valley. It's on the land of some rich man named David Love. (What you would say to that name, I can only imagine!) My Molly, I will meet you at Platform 9 and 3/4 on June 13th.
I love you!"
"Dearest Arthur--
I'm afraid. I'm afraid you will leave me if I tell you what has happened to me. I'm scared you will find another girl to give your love to: Another girl that will not become what I have. Arthur, I can't bear to look at myself in the mirror anymore. I couldn't even bear to write you for weeks and it just killed me.
Arthur, I'm pregnant."
"My Molly--
I've read your letter over and over, read it upside down and translated it into three different languages. My Molly, I cannot believe this! I wasn't expecting this so soon. You'll never finish your Seventh Year at Hogwart's. Molly, I so wanted you to complete your Hogwart's education. But, a child! Just the thought of me, a lowly Janitor with overgrown bangs as a father! I can't believe it My Molly! I just cannot! I've come up with a few names, you've said it was a girl, have you?
Louise
Nancy
Catherine
Lavender
Blythe
Beatrice
Annie
Marie
Molly (My first choice!)
Sarah
--Arthur (the father to be!)
"Dearest Arthur--
We are not naming the poor child after me, Arthur Weasley! Do you have any idea what it would turn out like if we did? Why, with stringy hair and the thinnest eyebrows and thin lips, it'd be very strange looking child. I finally get to come home to you tomorrow, My Love.
Good Night.
--Your Molly
P.S. I believe that this is to be the last love letter, perhaps one day we could show our children this and they could laugh their silly little heads off at us at how much in love we were!"
~-~-~-
Molly clutched the money in her hand anxiously. She had sold all of her items to a second hand Hogwart's store for a hundred galleons (not a bad deal!) and hoped to surprise Arthur with a few extra coins in his pocket. She knew that Arthur didn't eat much, and she had read somewhere that pregnant women ate more then women who weren't. Molly sighed. What a waste of money she would be!
She stepped off of the train, bearing a weary smile. Feeling oddly tired, she leaned against one of the brick poles and waited for Arthur.
~-~-~-~
He hadn't gotten his bangs trimmed since August. They had gotten to be rather long and annoying. He ran his hand through them and pushed them back, so they lay messily on the top of his head only to fall back down and brush against his eyes the next second. Arthur sighed and trucked them hopelessly behind his ears as he grabbed the Floo powder from next to the fireplace. He would have apparated, but it was prohibited within the muggle land where he was.
"Platform 9 and 3/4." He said.
~-~-~-
He coughed and sputtered up ashes as he fell out of the fireplace and onto the pavement in front of a Wizard family. They shrieked in surprise and went around him, muttering curses under their breath. Arthur picked himself up and groaned. He should at least look half presentable for Molly. He was covered in ashes and was wearing his old school uniform (he had no other clothes except his work clothes). He smoothed his hair back again and to his disgust (or ultimate benefit) the dirt and grime from the ashes helped it stick to the top of his head, so it no longer brushed against his eyes.
He searched among the hurrying crowd of students and parents, all exiting Hogwarts. He searched for the familiar glow of red hair that he knew so well.
"Arthur!"
It was horribly ironic that girl Molly's size (five foot one) could topple a person Arthur's size (six foot). But, nevertheless, she did. They both fell onto the sidewalk, laughing and hugging, never so happy to see each other.
"Get up, you silly prat!" Molly laughed, getting up, extending her hand to help him.
"Oh, God." he said, when he got up. "I've missed, you Molly."
"You better have, Arthur Weasley." she smiled
~-~-~-
They took a taxi to the small house that Arthur had bought from the rich muggle man. They waited a good five minutes, to make sure the taxi driver didn't turn around when he realized that they had been short two pounds. Molly stood, with her small hands clasped tightly, just staring at the small home that stood before her.
"Wow." she breathed, taking a step forward.
The house was just a small cabin; it couldn't have had more then one bedroom and a bathroom with just enough room for a small kitchen and perhaps a family room. It looked like a large tool shed, but Molly loved it. She turned around to her husband, who looked surprisingly sorry.
"I know it's not much, Molly." he shrugged, smiling.
"Arthur, I love it!" she cried, throwing her arms around him.
"Y-you do?" he said, his voice squeaking.
"Oh, yes!" Molly said. "And woods in the back of it. Arthur, it's the most perfect house I've ever seen!"
Arthur didn't dare to question what Molly saw in the small house. It was dirty, it was small and stingy and smelled like pine in the inside. He found the smell of pine repulsive, since he had spent so much time near the pine cleaners in the Ministry. He took the hand of his young wife and led her into the small house.
~-~-~-~
It seemed so odd that the small house, with the furniture seeming so big in the small space, could possibly feel so empty! Molly lay on the soft bed. It was a secondhand mattress and if she slept to the far to the left, the bed would fall off of the stand and the both of them would end up the on the floor. The bed wasn't exactly meant for two people. It would've been very comfortable, indeed, for one person. Every night, Arthur would come home late, exhausted and dirty. All Molly wanted was to provide a nice, warm, tasty dinner for her husband when he came home. She wanted to sit with him, and pick at his back, telling him that he needed to gain weight. She wanted to smile as he said, "Molly, this is delicious." with his mouth full. She would press her own finger on his mouth and say quietly, "Not when you're mouth is full, Dearest." There was only one problem with this childish fantasy of Molly's.
She couldn't cook.
They had a perfectly functional stove and cauldron heater. Molly hadn't been very smart in school, and cooking spells were completely lost in her textbook that she had sold when he had left (dropped out, rather) of Hogwart's. The only thing she could find that she could cook were chocolate chip cookies that tasted old and stale and burnt. She tried to cover it up with sugar and sprinkles, but it just didn't work. She had tried to cook a piece chicken before, but someway or another, it ended up walking across the floor, with Molly staring hopelessly at it. When Arthur came home that night, he asked if she had any dinner for him and she sullenly replied "It's running across the floor, if you can catch it, you can eat it." Arthur had simply laughed when she had said this and burst into hopeless tears, wailing about what a horrible housewife she was.
"Not many housewives could set their chicken running across the floor." He laughed.
"But, you work so hard!" she sobbed. "I just want you to have something warm to come back to when you get home."
"Molly," he chuckled. "this cabin is an inferno in the summer. I think that's warm enough for me to come home to."
She wiped her tears on her sleeve, and smiled sheepishly at Arthur.
~-~-~-
"Not working today?" she asked Arthur, bringing him a fresh batch of burnt cookies.
"No." he answered shortly, taking a cookie.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
Arthur was quiet for a long time. Molly knew not to press for information. Although it killed her that Arthur wouldn't tell her what was wrong, she respected his right not to tell her some things for her own good. Molly put the cookies back in the kitchen and thought of what she could've possibly done wrong. It couldn't have been her cooking; he'd forgiven her for not being able to cook months ago. She had washed the bed sheets this morning, pressed them with Lavender. She had rid the house of the disgusting pine smell with a simple incantation she knew from First Year. Maybe Arthur was just tired of her!
"There's not enough." He snapped suddenly from the other room.
He'd never had a temper with her before.
"E-enough of what, Arthur?"
"There's not enough money," he said angrily, ripping an envelope labeled in bright red letters "LAST CHANCE TO PAY UP WEASLEY!!"
"Oh." Molly said. Money was something she never interfered in.
"Is that all you can say?" He suddenly yelled, getting up from the wooden chair he was sitting in. "All you do is lay around all day and mope about what a hopeless case you are! You don't even have to worry about money, Molly!"
He had never yelled at her before.
"I-I'm sorry." she said pleadingly, suddenly wishing that she could cook just so she could request that they talk about this over dinner.
"Damn it all!" He yelled, kicking the chair over. "Maybe this was all a mistake! Maybe everything was a mistake!"
"Even our getting married?" Molly asked unsurely.
He turned towards her, glaring at her for a long time.
"I need to go for a walk." He said.
He slammed the door behind him.
~-~-~-
Molly stood there, trying so hard not to cry. It was all her fault! If only she had studied in school, she could've had a solid job and supported herself! If only she was smart! If only she could cook! Molly swallowed her tears and wiped her dry eyes. She bent down slowly and picked up the chair that Arthur had kicked her. Molly suddenly felt so old, carrying a child and getting in a war with her husband about money. She grabbed her cloak and grabbed a hand full of Floo Powder.
"Gringott's."
The Goblin stared down at her as if she was asking something unspeakable His beady little eyes seamed to be staring into her very soul.
"What did you say your name was?"
"Molly Weasley." she said. "Vault 223. I've my key."
She held up the small key.
"Weasley." The Goblin said. "Is not in good terms with this bank. Weasley is the name of the man and his wife who have some debt that needs to be paid or will be living in the woods."
"Please, sir." Molly pleaded. "Let me make a withdrawal from my Vault. I'll pay it with the money in there."
"According to my files." the Goblin said. "If you were to do that, there would be no money left in Vault 223."
"I know." Molly said quietly.
Vault 223 contained Molly's school money. Since she planned to go back to Hogwart's one day, she saved up a few galleons for her tuition. One day, Molly hoped to own a sweets shop in Hogsmeade. She knew it was a stupid little childish dream, but the few coins in her Vault were the only things that went towards her dream. Arthur had forbid her to spend any of her money in Vault 223. He wanted to see her finish Hogwart's, too.
The Goblin did a few things with his short wand and handed her two knuts.
"What's this?" she asked quietly.
"Call it a donation." The Goblin smiled cruelly.
~-~-~-
Arthur had gone into the backyard to chop wood for their stove. He would've used magic, but he needed to put his anger somewhere. Taking it out on Molly didn't work very well. He felt sorry for yelling at her for absolutely no good reason. What a complete jerk he was to yell at poor Molly, who was only trying her hardest to do things for him. She made the sheets smell like Lavender and rid of the horrid scent of pine that she liked, but he hated.
When he came in two hours later, she wasn't there.
He began to get worried. He never remembered Molly leaving their land except to go to the market, and even then, she would leave him a note. The chair he had kicked over was now upright. The batch of burnt cookies still sat idly on the kitchen table, not touched.
There was a knock at the front door.
Molly came in covered in ash.
"Where've you been?" he asked, angry.
"Here." She said, putting the two knuts in his big hand.
"What's this?"
"What does it look like?"
He looked at the two knuts.
"Were you out begging?" he asked.
"No." Molly said quickly.
"Then, where'd you get the money?"
"Ii can't tell you."
"You were out begging, weren't you?" He accused.
"No! Arthur, you must believe me, I wasn't out begging!" She said, grabbing his arm.
He ripped his arm away and stalked into their room slamming the door and locking it behind him.
~-~-~-
Molly leaned against the door to their bedroom. She let the tears come down her cheeks. She wasn't a beggar. She would never, ever beg for money. She wouldn't even ask for it. Even though she would do anything for her family, she wouldn't resort to petty begging.
"Arthur." She sobbed. "I paid the bills. You were so upset, and I felt so useless. I used the money from my School Money. I didn't want you to get angry. You work so hard and I just wanted to do something for you for a change."
Molly paused.
"I'm so sorry, Arthur." she whispered.
The door flew open and Arthur looked down at the woman laying on the floor, half asleep and sobbing in her sleep. He kneeled down and picked her up in his arms and rocked her.
"Stupid stupid girl." He said quietly.
"You were so upset," she whispered. "I was afraid you'd leave me. I was afraid when you left, that you wouldn't come back."
"My Molly." He said. "There is nothing in this whole damned world that would have not made me walk back in that door."
Molly looked up at him, her wet eyes as unsure and terrified, as they were the night he married her. He smiled.
"Arthur." she said softly after a while.
"Yes?"
"What do you think of the name Laura?" she asked.
"For the baby?"
"Yes."
"I think," he said. "It's a wonderful name."
"So do I." Molly smiled.