Mrs. Weasley had always fancied herself a reasonable parent. Sure, she was somewhat demanding of her children… but what good parent wasn't? She just wanted what was best for her babies, and she was sure that one day they'd come to appreciate that sentiment.
But Bill, that horrid child of hers, clearly did not value her efforts to maintain a loving and warm environment. Told her he wanted to move out, he did. Tomorrow, even. She fumed. What was that boy thinking? He hadn't even been home an entire month after his much-anticipated return, and he already wanted to leave!
Okay… If she must admit it, she was not nearly as mad as she was disappointed. She'd been greatly looking forward to having him around again, and she was just a little hurt that he hadn't wanted to stick around long enough for her to really enjoy his company. After all, ordinarily she only ever saw him but once or twice a year.
She tried to reason with herself that she'd still be able to see her eldest son a lot more often nowprobably as often as she likedbut she wasn't very cheered up by this.
She just couldn't bear to imagine him coming home from work every night, all tuckered out and with nothing to eat for dinner but the occasional leftovers or un-nourishing instant foodstuffs. He might have been a grown man, but he still needed to eat healthy!
Quite suddenly, she was struck by an idea. An idea which would not solve her problem with the issue, but would serve to lessen many of her concerns. But, her idea was something of an expensive one. She would have to clear it with Arthur before she would be able to set everything into motion, but she had the feeling that he would go along with it readily enough, even if he did not completely approve.
She glanced at the clock, deciding after a moment of careful deliberation that Arthur must have gone upstairs. As it was extremely likely he was up in Percy's old roomwhich had since been converted into a simple officeworking on some paperwork for the Ministry, she wasted no time in heading up there.
The first thing that she noticed upon entering the room was that her husband had his head stuck into the fire. Folding her arms across her chest, she closed the door behind her and leaned heavily against the doorframe, waiting quietly for Arthur to finish his conversation.
When he had, she pushed herself forward and towards his desk, which she leaned over as she stared down into his weary face. "Arthur?"
"Yes, Molly?" He forced back a yawn as he attempted to rub a spot of soot from his nose, though his actions only served to further smudge it.
Mrs. Weasley sighed, licking her thumb and wiping it off for him. "I want to talk to you," She informed him. "About Bill."
He winced, knowing what a touchy subject it would be with her. "Yes?" He encouraged her nonetheless. When she'd finished explaining her idea, he leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin in thought. "I don't know, Molly," He frowned, tugging at his bottom lip. "Somehow I don't think Bill will appreciate your concern."
Now Molly was the one frowning. Fifteen minutes later, however, she emerged victorious. Smiling widely, she contented herself with going back downstairs and doing a little needlework. She found knitting to be very relaxing. Getting a head start on everyone's yearly sweater would be the perfect thing to take her mind off of recent events. Should she retire to bed just as she was, she'd be up half the night tossing and turning.
Eventually, she began to nod off. The third time she found herself jolting awake on account of some random noise, she carefully placed the fruit of her labors inside a small wicker basket and trudged upstairs to get some proper sleep.
She awoke bright and early the next morning, and wasted no time in getting cleaned up and going down to prepare the morning meal. Moving was rather tiresome, and her Bill would need all the energy he could get. She was just getting started on separating a slab of bacon and neatly placing the resulting strips in a sizzling pan when Bill poked his head in.
"Need a hand?" He cautiously inquired.
Her lips pursed at the sight of him; despite overcoming her initial misgivings, she was still a bit upset by his decision. She kept her opinion to herself, however, and sent a pointed look at the large pitcher of orange juice to her right. Bill took the hint and strode the rest of the way into the kitchen, heading straight for the cabinet where his mother kept the tall glasses. Fetching seven of them, he set about filling each of them and depositing them beside each place at the table.
Breakfast was surprisingly uneventful, as everyone filtered in and ate at their own leisure. The twins practically crammed their food down their throats, barely appearing to take the time to chew before hurrying off again. Whether or not they were still wary of their mother or if they were genuinely busy with their experimenting was subject to debate. Ginny and Bill finished around the same time. Ginny stuck around to help their mother clean up while Bill went to take a shower and get ready to pack. Ron took the longest, simply because of his large appetite, and Bill had no idea where he'd gotten off to afterwards.
It was with a bittersweet smile on his face that he entered his room, towel wrapped precariously around his waist, water still dripping off the ends of his hair. After getting dressed in his most comfortable pair of clothes and running a comb through his unruly mane, he plopped down in the middle of his floor and began sorting his belongings into two piles: stuff that he would take with him to his new flat and stuff he would toss away.
Completing this task took up a greater portion of the morning, and by the time he was ready to actually start moving things, it was time for lunch. If only he hadn't been so hungry, he might have risked his mother's temper and skipped out on it,.
As he wolfed down his meal, he ran through a list of things that would have to be done that day. For one thing, he needed to pop down into Diagon Alley and pick up the keys to the place. As he'd only made the official purchase the evening before, after the debacle at dinner, he would be expected to fill out a massive stack of paperwork.
Then there was the matter of unpacking as much as he could and making the place livable. He would have simply spent another night at the Burrow if he hadn't thought doing so might give his mother strange ideas. Who knows what kind of crazy scheme she might cook up in order to keep him there.
Sighing, he cleared his place and disapperated with a loud, thundering crack.
A/N: This was just a transitional chapter, so I apologize if you find it a little dull. I found it particularly difficult to write the latter half, thus why such a simple update took so long. Speaking of updates, I went back through the first chapter and corrected a few minor errors as well as stuck in an extra paragraph on par with a suggestion made by EllietheElephant. Thank you all very much for your reviews; I appreciate them greatly. As for those of you wondering when Fleur will make her first appearance, let it be known that she will dominate the next chapter, much like Molly has the previous two.
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