This standard story is written for THC/The Houses Competition (Round 2 - Everybody Needs Companionship).

House: Slytherin

Class: Transfiguration

Prompt(s): [Negative Pairing] Arthur Weasley and Molly Prewett/Weasley

Link/Title: Arthur's Secret

Word Count: 2,028

Betas: Hucklebarry, Fires of Eden Red Rose Aurora, VanillaAshes, CupCakeyyy, and shy-n-great


Molly watched glumly as her tea swirled around in her teacup. It was so late. Unfortunately, the family clock indicated that Arthur was still out and about. She always waited for him to come home, but these days, he was just getting back to the Burrow later and later. It was tiring. Nowadays, waiting for Arthur equated to sacrificing valuable sleep.

Shaking her head, she sipped on what was probably her ninth cup. Molly missed the days when her children were small and Arthur was more present, but there was no child left to truly care for anymore. They had all spread their wings and flown from the nest. Yes, she'd still be there for advice and whatnot, but no one needed shaping up any longer. All she could do at this point was try her very hardest to love and protect them.

She didn't realize the door had opened until she felt two arms wrap around her from behind.

"Arthur," murmured Molly, letting a smile form on her face.

"Sorry I'm late." Arthur slid into the seat in front of her with a concerned look on his face. "You were here? This whole time?"

Molly blinked her eyes rather slowly as she failed to register Arthur's question, holding back a yawn.

Arthur waved his hand in front of her face, and only when Molly felt a hand cup her cheek did she realize that her husband was waiting for her to… to…

"Sorry — what was that, dear?"

"You were waiting all this time?" Arthur leaned in closer, and it was then that Molly smelled something… odd. Unnatural.

"You smell nice," Molly commented, inhaling more of that peculiar scent. "I didn't know you wore a fragrance. How'd you afford it?"

Arthur jumped back so quickly that he almost tripped over the chair. "What?" he squeaked, and Molly felt a lump form in her throat at the fear in her husband's voice. Arthur had become more twitchy as of late, and that frightened Molly. What had happened to him to make him so scared?

"Arthur, what's wrong? You look so pale…"

"It — it's nothing, Mollywobbles," Arthur assured sheepishly, slowly getting up from his chair.

"No, it's something," Molly pressed, standing and following Arthur to the staircase. "What is it? Did anyone do something at work? Was it Malfoy?"

"Hardly," laughed Arthur almost immediately with a smile. "That old sod didn't even look my way today."

"Arthur!" hissed Molly at Arthur's foul language.

"What? It's not like any of the children are home."

It was then that Molly had a most brilliant idea. There were no children at home. Hmm…

"You're right," she purred. Molly felt more awake as she continued, a sultry smile instantly creeping onto her face. "Maybe we can… prolong the evening?" She walked her fingers up his chest.

However, Arthur shook his head, taking her hand off of him gently and placing it at her side.

"Not tonight, I'm afraid. Got to be up early tomorrow."

"But tomorrow's Saturday," Molly replied confusedly. Since when did Arthur, the man who got whipped by Apollyon Pringle for pleasuring her under an alcove at Hogwarts, turn down any advances she made? They weren't that old, were they? They were only… what? Forty-five? They weren't even fifty yet!

"Oh," said Arthur with a quite nervous-sounding chuckle. "Well, slip of the mind, I suppose." He patted Molly's shoulder and started heading up the stairs. Why was her husband acting so weirdly?

"Then?" called Molly after him, her voice bouncing off the walls.

Arthur reappeared at the top of the stairs and looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face. "Then what?"

She leaned against the banister. "Come on! We haven't done it in ages! Now that there's no one here, we should have some sort of fun!"

Arthur sent his wife a regretful look from above.

"Molly, I'm not feeling very up to it. I'm sorry."

"Are you nuts? This is the perfect chance!" argued Molly, leaping over some stairs to catch up with her husband. "Arthur, you never used to be like this —"

But Molly's speech cut off as she thought she spied a lone strand of pink hair on Arthur's right shoulder.

"My joints are getting worn," Arthur said as an excuse, not noticing her abrupt pause. "I'm getting old, Molly. It won't be as satisfying —"

"Wait." Molly held up a finger as she inched closer. She reached out and picked up the strand. "What is this?"

"What are you talking about, dear?" asked Arthur. Molly's eyes narrowed as she noted the slight tremors passing through his body. Now that she thought about it, her husband's wispy hair was in slight disarray. His lips were slightly swollen… and his shirt wasn't… buttoned properly?

Molly felt herself start to shake in anger as she repeated her question.

"Arthur," she said in a low voice. "I will not ask you again. What is this?"

"Ah, that!" Arthur chuckled again. This time, it was warm. "Tonks bumped into me today at the Ministry."

"What was she doing in your department?" Molly questioned, frowning slightly. "She's an Auror and works on an entirely different floor."

"I asked myself the same thing!" said Arthur, now outright jovial. "She had come — for what, I don't know — and we passed each other in the hallway. She tripped over herself and I caught her. Then I sent her on her way."

"And that's how a piece of her hair fell onto your shoulder?" Molly held the strand in front of his face. As she stepped even closer, she saw something that would haunt her for the rest of her life: two faint lip prints on her husband's cheek and another two on his neck. Understanding and pain rushed through her at once, and Molly started to sway as the implications fully registered in her mind. She gripped the banister till her knuckles turned white, realizing why Arthur had been so terribly late.

Any resemblance of control she had was lost as her hand flew through the air and slapped her cheating husband across the face. She held her now stinging hand as she looked down at Arthur, who had fallen to the ground from the impact.

"Am I not good enough for you anymore, is that it?" growled Molly, looking down at the man she loved with her entire being. "Am I so worthless that you'd go to — to a child to satisfy your needs?"

"Molly —"

"DO NOT 'MOLLY' ME!" roared the Weasley matriarch, tears streaming from her face. "I — I thought you loved me, that we were made for each other —"

"Molly," Arthur repeated as though he were warning her. When he reached out, Molly cringed away.

"How long have you been doing this?" she trembled, still reeling from Arthur's betrayal. "How — how long have you been…?" But Molly faltered, not able to find it in herself to complete the sentence. Her husband remained silent, and this infuriated her to an unimaginable degree.

"Answer me!" she begged as she tried to rein in the dragon that was now rearing its wings inside her. She didn't care about whether she appeared pathetic to the man in front of her, for all she needed now was answers.

Arthur's eyes trailed up, and the excited, confident gleam in his eyes tore a gaping hole in Molly's soul.

"Three months," he replied slowly in what sounded like a joyous tone. "Three months free of… judgment. Of inferiority. No one takes me seriously anymore! Bill has Fleur, Charlie's with his dragons, Fred and George are setting up their business, Ron and Ginny are at school, and Percy doesn't even acknowledge me! And with all the Order things going on, you haven't looked my way either! And all the time, I feel like I can't do anything! For Merlin's sake, I'm so incompetent that I got myself bitten by a snake! Tonks, on the other hand, made me feel important. For once in my life, I was the one in control, I was the one being appreciated, and I was the one being valued! She didn't judge me just because I'm obsessed with Muggle things! She didn't judge me because I'm poor! In fact, she didn't judge me at all!"

Molly was feeling hysterical at this point. What excuse did that give Arthur to — to sleep with Tonks? She wanted to whip out her wand and unleash all her fury on Arthur, to make him feel as hurt as she currently was. She wanted to show him how horrible of a man he was for cheating on his wife like this. Most importantly, though, she wanted to know why. What did Nymphadora Tonks have that she didn't? Was it her youth? Her spunk? Had she, perhaps, bewitched her husband with her bubbly personality and put him under a spell not even Merlin could undo? She so badly wanted to believe that it was all the girl's fault, that Arthur didn't know what he was doing, but even she knew that it took two to tango.

Her husband — the love of her life — was as much at fault as Tonks was. He was just as guilty, and this terrible reality caused Molly to burst into sobs.

"I can't believe it," Molly choked out. "I loved you, only you… and that fact alone makes it so much harder…"

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but Molly pushed on.

"I did so much for you!" shrieked the matriarch, pointing an accusatory finger at her husband. "I — I cared for you when you came back from St. Mungo's and I've supported you through thick and thin, and this is how you decide to repay me? By — by bedding a woman who's young enough to be your daughter?"

Molly turned away. She couldn't bear for the man that she loved to see her decompose like this, especially since he was the one who seemed to not care anymore. The only thing Arthur seemed to do right was that he didn't try to comfort her; that was the last thing the grieving wife needed.

She sneaked a look back at him, and his blank expression made her howl in grief. Molly didn't understand how her husband of more than twenty years could be capable of this cruelty. Not only did he seem to not regret anything, he didn't even feel the need to apologize to her. She wished now that she had just gone to sleep and remained blissfully unaware of this treachery, but then he'd still be sleeping with her, wouldn't he? Or maybe he'd continue sleeping with her despite the fact that Molly caught him. Merlin, was her husband always like this? Was Arthur always this conniving and remorseless?

Was he always this — this selfish?

Closing her eyes, she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, an ataractic technique her mother had taught her for when she needed to gain control. After what felt like hours, she managed to quieten her sobs, and she regained her composure. Only when she was completely calmed down did she finally turn to face what had, in these short moments, become harder to deal with than the threat of the Dark Lord himself.

"Arthur, this will remain between us only. We will act as if everything is all right until we resolve this. Am I clear?"

Arthur scrutinized her, and Molly felt the knife cut deeper into her heart when he didn't seem to show even the smallest sign of contrition. In fact, Arthur's features went as far as to twist in a dark glare as he crossed his arms.

"Of course, my dear," he drawled, his glare deepening with each word. "After all… I would never do anything to upset you."

Molly's hand twitched towards her wand at her husband's callous disregard for her warning, but she stopped herself. She knew that no matter what happened, she wouldn't take away her children's father — even if it meant she would have to suffer till her dying day — because although Arthur had lost his conscience, Molly knew, in her heart, that she would never lose hers.