The Measure of a Man

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Elton John's Song.

These battered hands all your own,

This broken heart turned to stone,

Go hang your glory on the wall,

There comes a time when castles fall,

And all that's left is shining in the sand…

Molly Weasley sat at her battered old kitchen table, sipping a warm cup of coffee. It was so quiet, too quiet. Everybody was somewhere except home. Bill was in Egypt, Charlie in Czechoslovakia, Percy in Morocco, Fred and George at the joke shop, Ron and Ginny at Hogwarts, and Arthur was on watch at the Ministry.

It was late at night, but she refused to go to bed…just to make sure that Arthur would get home alright. She was thinking about him more and more lately…he was getting older, and everybody could tell. The once balding man was almost entirely bald, and his bifocals had gotten bigger as his eyes needed them. The wrinkles on his face increased and his bright brown eyes had become a bit faded. Yes, he was getting old.

You're out of time,

You're out of place,

Look at your face!

That's the measure of a man!

This coat that fits you, like a glove,

These dirty streets you've learned to love,

So welcome back my long lost friend,

You've been to hell and back again,

God alone knows how you crossed that span.

Early in their marriage, they had many troubles with budget…but he always made it work. Always. Didn't matter how, and Molly never asked…he just did it. He did it without Molly telling him to. He had always loved her and the children no matter how tough things got. And now…what with the Order and all, she could tell that he really, truly loved her. Maybe it was because there weren't children around anymore, and it was just them, she didn't have anything to distract her from it.

She was starting to get worried about him. Later and later, he'd stay…and he didn't tell her everything about it anymore. She hoped he wouldn't get murdered anytime soon…she knew she wouldn't be able to bear life without him.

That reminded her of his childhood. He grew up in the poorest part of London with four other brothers and a father like him. Always struggling to make ends meet. But it didn't matter, because Arthur's heart was made of gold.

Back on the beat,

Back to the start,

Trust in your heart,

That's the measure of a man.

It's the fire in the eyes, the lines on your hand,

It's the things you understand,

Permanent ties from which you once ran,

That's the measure of a man.

He apparated into the living room, deep bags underneath his eyes.

"You alright?" asked Molly with a bit of urgency.

"Well, I am. But Kingsley didn't make it out alright, I'm afraid."

"Goodness, what's wrong with him, dear?"

"Got his leg blown apart. They're going to have to grow everything back, including his femur bone, and his feet. The healers said it should take at least four days until he finishes re-growing; a week for psychological and brain repairs."

"Oh, Merlin. I'll have to tell the others to pay him a visit."

"They already know, Molly, love."

"Good. And the children?"

"Let's not bother them with that," said Arthur quietly, walking over to his wife as he warmed her up with a soft embrace.

"I've missed you, Arthur. Really, I wish we could spend more time together," Molly whispered. Arthur kissed her forehead.

"I miss you, too. I'm thinking about retiring. That would mean that we'd have all day and then I'd have the nightshift…we'd always be there if the children needed us. Sound good to you?"

"It sounds wonderful, Arthur…but would you…um…would you make enough to support the two of us and little something extra in case of emergency?"

"I think we should…I'll check everything out tomorrow."

You've come full circle, now you're home

Without the gold, without the chrome

And this is where you've always been,

You had to lose so you could win,

And rise above your troubles while you can.

Now you can love,

Now you can lose,

Now you can choose,

That's the measure of a man…

Arthur gently kissed Molly's lips. She shuddered. "Sorry…I haven't kissed you like that in a while…" he said shyly.

"Do it again," she whispered, "I liked it."

That's the measure of a man…

They slowly walked up the rickety staircase. "You've finally measured up, Arthur. We're growing old together, you know."

"Yes we are, but that won't change you, my dear."

"And it won't change my man, either."

That's the measure of a man.