Okay boys and girls, this chapter and others like it are why this fic will be rated mature!!

Taking her hand, Fred led her into the bedroom. Everything was carefully organized though the bed was hastily made. However, it was no matter to him what the bed looked like; they were just going to mess it up anyway. Placing his hands on each side of her face, he kissed her with every fiber of his being. He wanted to make this special for her…just as first times should be.

Responding in turn, she made swift work in divulging herself of robes. Somewhere deep inside of her, there was the building urge to feel his skin against hers. He moved her to the edge of the bed, his arousal pressing into her thighs. Heat built within her and a rosy blush bloomed all over her body.

"Gods," Fred whispered as he tried to undo the buttons of his robe with his shaky fingers, "You're so beautiful." Damn these dress robes and all their bloody buttons! After another few seconds of fumbling around like an idiot, he gave up and ripped them off. Buttons popped off and went a hundred different directions…it'd give Molly some more work when he finally sent his dirty robes over.

Millicent didn't remember exactly how it happened but suddenly her bra was missing and he was kissing softly down her neck. Slowly, his hand pushed her back against the bed and he captured one of her breasts in his mouth, suckling and running his tongue over the hardened nipple. A soft whimpering escaped from her throat, bringing his mouth back to hers as his fingers picked up where his tongue had left.

Never before had he engaged in any kind of foreplay with a woman…not even his first time. But she was an innocent and he couldn't very well go pushing his way in without loosening her up. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her…

Shock coursed through her as Fred's nimble fingers trailed down her belly and slipped beneath her panties. The barest touch against her silken folds made her buck off the bed, gasping. "F-Fred, what are you doing?" She asked, panicked and aroused almost to the point of oblivion.

A wicked smirk played on his face as he left one more lingering kiss on her mouth. Moving downward, he ran his face down the inside of her thigh and felt satisfied when she began to pant. "Relax, love." She was glistening, waiting for him and he felt his groin become even tighter at the sight of her. For the past week he got a hard-on just thinking about her beautiful body…being with her now was fulfilling him in ways he'd never imagined possible.

One stroke of his finger down her sex nearly broke her. "Fred," she whimpered, her face glowing even hotter. One finger slid inside of her, stretching the tightness there and then he put two in. Somewhere within her muddled thought she knew this was going to hurt a bit; Pansy had told her that her first time she had even bled. But it only hurt a little, like a pinch, and then there was only pleasure. Dear gods, she hoped the pleasure would come soon…she was starting to feel like this was torture.

Fred shared the sentiment. With every whimper, moan, movement she made, he wanted her even more. He moved back up, kissing back up to her mouth and capturing her lips again. He helped her move back against the pillows, "Millicent, are you ready?"

Nodding, she watched as he pressed his weight on top of her, his arousal teasing the sensitive folds of her. He knew that he was trying to be gentle about this and she respected him deeply for that. Reaching out with her hands, she let them rove over his sweat-slicked skin.

Continuing to lave kisses to her face and neck, he pressed himself into her. He hissed as her walls stretched to fit his thick length. Pulling out again, he pressed a little further in…there was no easy way to do this. "I'm sorry," He whispered, his voice strangled as he thrust deep into her.

For barely a moment she felt pain and the next second it washed away as if it had never been. "I'm fine," She answered, her voice garbled from the intense pleasure she was feeling. With a smile and a rough, soul-wrenching kiss, he thrust into her again, slower this time. Then, as she began to adjust to the rhythm of his body, he began to press harder and deeper into her.

She fit him like a glove perfectly tailored. Her dark eyes filled with pleasure and the small noises she made drove him closer and closer to ecstasy. Without a word spoken, they found a perfect tempo; with every movement he was driven closer to the edge.

With a strangled cry, she felt her body burst into a million pieces, shattering every pain and heartache she'd ever suffered into oblivion. The intensity of her orgasm brought him with her, his warmth spurting into her and filling her to the hilt.

It seemed like hours they lay there, their bodies still as one. Breathing was labored and both their bodies were slick with sweet sweat. Everything about the moment seemed perfect and beautiful and right. In that moment, nothing was wrong and no one could touch what they had…

Fred was almost-positive that he had dreamed it all. Had he actually, willingly made love to Millicent Bulstrode? Had she really been that drop dead gorgeous? Pig zoomed in, dropping the Daily Prophet on his face, just like every morning. Groaning, he sat up, expecting to be at home in his own bed…but he wasn't in his bed. It wasn't a dream!

Picking up the paper, he found that a small note was tucked into it. "Fred, I had to run to go to work this morning, it wouldn't do for the new Head Writer to owl out on her second day! Help yourself to anything you want. I think we should talk about your family and our "marriage". Love Millicent," He read aloud. Blushing, he noticed that she had used 'love'…then again, that was a very common ending to letters. She probably didn't mean anything by it.

Standing, he stretched and found that the buttons on his robe had been mended and it was hanging on the bedpost alongside a towel. Smiling, he made his way into her bathroom. It was much bigger than the bathroom he had; in his, you often smacked your bum on the sink while showering. In here, her tub itself was the size of his whole bathroom.

The hot jets of water relaxed him; he was sated from a night of lovemaking and heavy conversations. But that didn't for one second take his mind off what his mother was doing to them. Damn the fates! Why had he told that rude receptionist that Millicent was his wife!? He could've sneaked her into Bill and Fleur's room another way; it just made sense at the time to tell her a lie…a lie that had gotten them into even bigger trouble than they'd ever dreamed.

His mum had never taken anything more serious than marriage and family. Fred had been a burden on her for so long; she had been trying desperately to marry him off to a nice girl since he turned twenty. Seven years later, she was absolutely going batty over it. A part of him wanted to marry someone just to shut her up…but then, he'd never found anyone remotely suitable until Millicent.

Turning off the shower, he dried his body and let the towel fall loosely around his hips as he began to change into his robes. He found that in addition to being mended, they had been laundered and pressed. With ease, he transfigured a comb and made himself presentable…today he had to be on the top of his game; he had to figure out a way to get out of a marriage.

Making his way into the kitchen, he pulled open the refrigerator to find that there was just about anything he could ever want to eat. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he didn't know. After warming some sausage and quickly scrambling an egg he felt better about everything. After all, his mother wanted him to be happy above anything else, right?

"That's it!" Fred cheered, scaring Pig right off his perch on top of the sink faucet. With an indignant squawk, he flapped out the window. "Sorry, Pig," He called after the owl and frowned as he kept going. Well, it looked like writing an owl to Millicent was out of the question so, the floo it was.

Taking a pinch of powder he threw it into the fire, "Daily Prophet, Millicent's Office!" The fire burned red, indicating that the floor he had tapped didn't exist. Trying again, this time he yelled, "Daily Prophet, Marlene Braedenstock office!" This time, the fire burned purple. Blocked? Hmm…well, that made sense he suppose. With all the people that might want to talk to her and such, it was probably necessary to block off her floo.

Finally, after wracking his brain, he decided to go through the front floo. "Daily Prophet," he yelled and stepped into the floo. He exited the floo in a front office guarded…er…watched by a girl he hadn't seen in years. Angelina Johnson was looking even more incredible than she had in school. Instead of the long blonde hair that she had prided herself on at school, she had cropped it short. So short that it barely reached her ears; her icy blue eyes swept over him thoughtfully as she spoke, "Can I help you, sir?"

Smirking, he shook his head, "Sir? I promise you I am no gentleman." He answered with a wink and leaned heavily against her desk. "I'm here to see Millicent."

Angelina halted in mid-breath, "Y-you're here to see Millicent?" She repeated. No one ever came to see Millicent, especially never any men. "May I ask why?"

"Is this strictly business or are you just curious?" He asked, frowning slightly. The shock in her eyes irked him somehow. Was it so unbelievable that he was here to see her?

Blushing furiously she pursed her lips, "I have to mark down when you come and go and a reason in our visitor's log." It was procedure, yes…but she wouldn't dismiss her own curiosity.

"Don't tell me I have to tell you she's my wife, too," He muttered, rolling his eyes at the memory of another nosy receptionist. Angelina was far milder than that witch at St. Mungo's but it was still annoying to be hassled.

A gasp tore through her, "Your WIFE!?"

Cursing out loud, he shook his head, "No! No it's not like that, she's not my wife!" Why did he keep doing this?

Nodding, she wrote his name down in the book. "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. I'm sure there are lots of reasons why you wouldn't want that news spread around."

Damn it, Angelina didn't believe that they weren't really married either. Why did he keep doing this! He was digging a hole deeper and deeper for them! "Which way to her office?" She was going to kill him.

Angelina gave him directions, smiling gently as he walked away. Seconds later, she summoned her owl; this was the Daily Prophet after all. They had a duty to report the news.

Fred couldn't believe the luxury of her new office! It was obvious that she was still moving in, as he saw that she was bustling back and forth between the larger office and a smaller desk with piles of files on it. It seemed she hadn't had time to arrange and organize everything yet. Slipping behind her, he let his hands run down her thighs.

"Marcus, what did I tell you about touching me?" She growled, "I'm going to hex your balls o-"Angrily, she whipped around to see Fred smirking at her.

Frowning, she folded her arms over her chest, "What are you doing here?"

Laughing, he answered, "Came to pay you a little visit." He took a quick glace around before pressing a kiss to her lips. After she had yielded and melted into his embrace, he spoke, "Millicent?"

Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back from kissing him, but she managed to answer. "Yes, Fred?"

Swallowing hard, he pulled back slightly from her. "I may or may not have told someone else that you were my wife this morning." He recoiled as her face became blank as stone. He had seen that face before…it was the look on his mother's face before she sent him out to degnome the garden without a wand.

Millicent felt her blood pressure rise several notches as she pressed her hand to her forehead, "And just who did you tell?" She pressed, praying to any deity that would listen that it wasn't someone here.

"Umm," He began, fidgeting nervously, "Angelina Johnson."

"Oh bloody hell," Millicent whispered and buried her face in her hands. Several deep, ragged breaths later, she exploded, "Fred! That woman is the biggest gossip in all of Wizarding London!" She roared.

Marcus popped his head out of the door, smirking, "Your first married fight, chap?" Striding over, he slapped Fred on the back with a chuckle, "Don't worry, the make up sex is worth it. Right Millie?" He made no attempt to hide the malice in his voice.

"NOT NOW MARCUS," She bellowed, sending the man half-running, half-slinking back into his office. Closing her eyes, she tried to get control of her heart. "If you thought breaking this off was hard when it was just your parents, just you wait! This is going to be all over tomorrow! Probably even in the Prophet, I won't be able to stop it!"

Fred sighed and placed his hand firmly on her shoulder, "Millicent, I'm really sorry. I was muttering under my breath about another nosy receptionist and it just slipped out." This was getting worse by the second. "Can we go to your office to talk?"

Nodding, she ushered him inside and shut the door. Collapsing in her chair, she put her face down on the desk; her shoulders shook violently.

Frowning, he sat down in front of her. "Are you crying?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"Laughing," She answered, almost unable to control her guffawing. "This is so bizarre it's funny!" He looked positively frightened for her sanity and she smiled, "Come on now, it is!"

His mouth quirked into a smile, "I guess it is pretty funny." Funny was one way to put that; then again, he'd rather have her laughing than crying. This whole situation was screwy. They'd been dating for less than a week! A WEEK! That wasn't exactly ample time to get to know someone, court them and plan a big wedding. "So, I've been thinking about what we could do to stop this wedding."

"Good," She answered, listening attentively. "Because I've got nothing that wouldn't ruin your reputation or mine." She had, of course, thought about that but she valued her friendship with Molly as well.

That made sense, the last thing he needed was for her to become an outcast in their family; she was still Lila's godmother after all. And he…well, he kind of liked having her around. "Here's what I've come up with," He said, grinning, "We tell my mum and dad that they reason we got married was because we thought you were knocked up. And now that we found out you weren't, we got our marriage annulled."

Millicent crossed her legs as she thought about it. "It's very plausible, considering your reputation around town," she winked. "That way we can tell them that we've decided we're better off apart…its bloody perfect."

A smile spread over his face, "Why thank you, thank you very much." Standing up again, he began to pace. "But we can't tell them this Sunday...Bill and Fleur will just be getting home and it'll be all about Lila. Plus we don't want to upset everyone so soon after last week's dinner." Somehow it felt like he was just making an excuse not to tell them…

"I understand," Millicent answered, knowingly. She couldn't exactly pinpoint exactly what in that load of schlock had anything to do with telling their family they weren't married…but then, it was his family. He'd tell them when he was ready. "So you still want me to go then?"

He answered her automatically, "Yes." Smiling, he took her hand in his and brushed his lips against her palm. "It'll all work out in the end, don't worry." His lips traveled up her arm until he planted a soft kiss on her lips. "Well I can't keep my busy wife from work," He winked, earning him a glare from Millicent. "I'll see you on Sunday then?"

Millicent nodded, "Sunday." She watched as he turned away, opening the door to her office. "Oh…and Fred," She called, smirking wickedly, "Last night was incredible."

"For me too," He answered softly. He'd never made love like that before in his life…hell, he'd never made love before. What he'd been doing over the years was having meaningless sex with meaningless girls in a variety of new and often filthy places including, but not limited to, the women's loo at The Three Broomsticks, they alley behind Bourgin and Bourkes and under the counter at Zonko's. In a way, he had lost his virginity to her as well.

One last meaningful smile from her made him believe that everything was going to be fine. They'd go on pretending to be husband and wife until they could weave more lies to get out of the first one. Yes, it would crush his mother but then…the very notion that Fred would never settle down crushed her. He felt bad even going to Sunday Dinner, seeing everyone with their spouses and children, happy and in love. And there he was alone, the lonely bachelor…until Millicent of course. It would be hard going back but he'd manage…for all their sakes.

Making his way out to the front, he gave a nod to Angelina Johnson who was looking a little flushed. She'd been a busy bee…Marcus Flint was glaring daggers at his back and a couple of women stood by the floo watching his every move. Great, just great, another reason they had to keep lying: Now, all of the Wizarding World knew he was "married" to Millicent Bulstrode.

Grabbing a handful of floo powder he tossed it into the fire, "Fred Weasley's Apartment!" He yelled and stepped through, back into his own living space once again.

Settling back at her desk, she was finishing up an article on a vampire that had gotten loose in Muggle Wales. He had been starved for centuries, trapped somewhere in a cave in Cardiff; he had eaten his way through an entire coastal town and the Aurors had captured him at last. Tragically, ten muggles were dead and several more were mentally wrecked beyond repair. It was a story of triumph for the Aurors, but a story of sadness for the Muggle World.

With a final flourish, she signed her name off and sat back in her chair. That looked like everything. Since Fred had left, she had thrown herself into work. It was better to stay busy than to start thinking…not to mention she could see people walking past her office whispering and casting their eyes at her through the windows of her office. Finally, she had given up and drawn the blinds.

But, as she soon found out, a couple of blinds didn't stop Marcus Flint. He sauntered in, smirking that same manner and taunting her in his usual manner. "Well, well, if it isn't Mrs. Weasley, hard at work," he sat down on the corner of her desk.

"I'm not in the mood, Marcus," She answered sharply and held out the stack of articles to him. "It's all here for tomorrow's paper. You can send it to the printer right now if you want, that way they can go home early."

Accepting them at once, he set them back down on her desk. Suddenly he wasn't smirking anymore; his face was placid and almost-angry. "I think I've been a fair boss, Millicent. I let you keep your job here, I even gave you a promotion…and what do I get in return?"

Frowning, she folded her arms over her chest, "Besides being the leading newspaper in the wizarding world? Besides selling thousands more papers than any of our competition? I am just not seeing where I'm the problem here?"

"Damn it, Millicent," He shouted, pointing his finger at her. "You'll regret this! I've waited years to fuck you; I'm not giving up this easily!"

"Sexual harassment is a crime, Marcus," She hissed angrily. "And you're not the top boss around here. Your grandfather may have wanted you to make something of yourself but you'll never be anything but a lecher!" Grabbing her wand, she stormed to the door of her office. "I'm going to your bosses, Marcus, and you're damn lucky I'm not taking it all the way to Wizengamot!"

Growling, he stalked toward the door. "You'll never get them to fire me, Millicent. And I'm going to make your life a living hell."

Turning, her hazel eyes were sparking with angry fire, "And Marcus?" She called sweetly. Wrenching her arm back, she slammed her fist into his nose; she smiled as the delicate bones in his nose crunched and he reared back, screaming. Flipping her dark hair, she grabbed her cloak. "Don't forget who I am."

With anger coursing in her veins and her wand in hand, she stormed out of the Daily Prophet. She'd owl Fabian Prewett as soon as she got home…he may have been a harsh boss but he didn't stand for the antics of Marcus Flint.

The eyes of Angelina Johnson on her back didn't go unnoticed by Millicent. She was most of the way out the door when she turned once more, "Angelina?" Swiftly, she walked over, her voice syrupy sweet. But almost as quickly as she pretended to be the nice woman, her façade dissolved into a mask of anger and rage. "If I ever so much as get wind of you starting rumors about me and my husband, I will remind you of who the real Millicent Bulstrode is."

Fear worked its way into the young woman's face as she nodded. She had known Millicent in school and there were still rumors floating about that she had been a Death Eater herself. Still, she managed to make her voice sound bold, "Is that a threat, Missus Weasley?"

A deadly smirk crossed her face, "I don't make threats, Angelina. I merely remind you that there are fates worse than being permanently unemployed." Never before had Millicent used her name and her family ties to hurt someone…but she could do it. She was loosely related to the Black family, a loose tie by marriage but that put her in league with the Malfoys, what was left of the Lestrange family and the Rookwoods, merely by association.

Angelina blanched and bit her tongue. Millicent couldn't hide a smile, "I'm glad to see we have an understanding." Turning on hell, she stalked out without another word.

Hadn't Millicent tried to change who she was? She wasn't so formidable anymore, not physically anyway. She had always been cordial to the world around her, minding her manners and keeping quiet; she had not gone out and taunted the world but still it came back around to lash back at her. What had she done to deserve to this?

It finally occurred to Millicent that she hadn't done anything at all. She lived a good life, she paid her taxes, held a good job, and she gave to charity; for all intents and purposes she was a model citizen. Yet she was treated like a criminal because the world was a cruel place. It didn't matter where she lived, how much money she had…there would always be someone who didn't like her or didn't like what she did.

"Well," Millicent thought, "What's the use of trying to please people who won't be pleased anyway?" She was determined to live life the way she wanted to and that meant doing what made her happy. And, she decided, she would start with Fred Weasley.

Instead of apparating back to her flat, as she may have done on another day, she took her anger out with a nice walk. It was only about half a kilometer to her flat, and the rhythmic steps helped her relax. By the time she reached home, she felt whole again, not so angry. Loosening her cloak, she sighed heavily; it had been a long, tiresome day. All she wanted to do was slip off her robes and soak in the tub for a long while before she owled Fabian Prewett.

A clang from her kitchen startled Millicent. Oh, so Marcus had decided to go for a more physical approach. Well this assassin sure was clumsy, for seconds later she heard another hearty sigh. Reaching for her wand, she let it precede her into the kitchen. "Expelliarmus!" She cried, preparing for a fight.

Molly Weasley's head snapped up as her wand went flying to the floor, "Oh Millicent, dear!" She exclaimed, "I knew I should've owled first!"

A sigh of relief tore from her throat, "No, Molly, of course not! I was just startled! It's not very often that I get visitors." That let themselves in, she added to herself. She found that Molly had put a pot of tea on and had been pouring it into two cups.

Bustling over to where her wand had fallen, Molly picked it up and pocketed it again. "I thought I'd surprise my newest daughter in law with a spot of tea. I pop by all of my children's flats periodically. In fact, I just came back from visiting Fleur and Bill!"

Accepting the tea that Molly proffered, she sat down at the table. There was no reason to be rude about all this; the woman was merely treating her like she would her own daughter. A sense of belonging and love swelled in her chest as she took a long sip, "How are they? And the girls?"

"Oh, they're just splendid!" Molly then launched into a twenty minute discourse on everything that had been happened. "And of course," she finally finished, "They are looking so forward to seeing you at dinner this Sunday! The girls told me that they had a wonderful time with their Auntie Marlene and Uncle Fred!"

Millicent smiled broadly, "I enjoyed my time with them as well." Crossing her legs, the two women sat in amicable silence for a moment, sipping their tea. "I finally told Fred the truth," she said quietly.

A broad smile found its way onto Molly's face, "That's wonderful! I had wondered if you told him before the two of you rushed into marriage!" She set her tea cup down and leaned forward, "It's no secret that my son can be impetuous but I think he made a wonderful choice in you, Millie." Reaching out, she patted the younger girl's hand. "You remind me a lot of myself, dear." Smirking, she wagged a finger, "Oh, don't laugh now! I was quite a beauty in my day!"

Millicent gasped, "Oh, I'd never say such a thing!"

Chuckling, Molly sat back, "You didn't have to dear! It's a fact of life! After seven children, I'm lucky to even be walking around. And yet here I am, strong as an ox!" Smiling, her eyes sparkled with mirth. "And I also had something of a wild streak if you'd believe that!"

It was hard to believe, yes, but Molly had alluded to it more than once. Curiously, she pressed the older woman, "Well tell me about it, Molly! I'd love to hear about your days as a rebel." She laughed.

"Well," Molly started, leaning back in her chair. "I guess I ought to start with how I got to be that way. I grew up with my twin brothers, Gideon and Fabian and my best friend Bilius in a very small town in Stoatshead Hill." She smiled, remembering memories past. "When we were younger, it was all fun and games but as we grew up and Voldemort began to come to power, things began to take a turn for the worst."

Millicent frowned as she saw the creasing of Molly's forehead. Nonetheless, the older woman continued, "In sixty-one I began my first year at Hogwarts and times were getting hard. My own mum died when I was young and I must, I had been extremely spoiled!" Taking a long sip of tea, she thought back to that fateful day she had met Arthur Weasley. "I met Arthur my first day, he was a blushing seventh year; and by blushing, I don't mean a virgin!"

Choking on her tea, Millicent stared at Molly. But the older woman carried on as if she hadn't noticed, "Oh no, not by any stretch of the word! In fact, it said he was the best lover that had ever come to Hogwarts! Made Bilius damn jealous! For he was said to be a great lover too…" A sigh escaped from her, "Poor, poor Bilius…"

Forcing a smile, she shook her head. "Bilius was Arthur's baby brother and truly loved by all. We were inseparable, the two of us!" A tear dripped down her cheek, "My da always said we'd be neighbors forever and never leave each other's side, even after we married. Bilius always had a crush on me, I know…" She trailed off, "I just never loved him that way."

No, her heart had never belonged to Bilius, but she had loved him like a brother. "In our fifth year, he claimed to see a grim. Of course, we thought he was pulling our legs. Bilius was a strong man, tall and healthy as hale. But, a week later he dropped dead," Pain etched itself into the lines on her face. "I was devastated, not believing him. In that same week, Gideon was also killed in a violent Death Eater attack. Fabien was never the same after that…without his twin, he was empty."

Millicent wondered what this had to do with Molly becoming wild, but the woman was just getting there. "After that, I decided to forget what love felt like. I began to go from man to man, never to get attached again. The few friends that I had besides Bilius weren't interested in being around someone as grief stricken as I was."

A bitter laugh emanated from her throat, "I slept my way through most of the fourth through seventh year male student body. And it was near the end of my sixth year that I turned my sights on Arthur Weasley. He was shy as anything and apprenticing with Professor Rochelle, doing work with Muggle Studies." She smirked, "I made it seem as if I needed help with muggle studies…although it was my best subject."

Leaning in conspiratorially, she smiled, "By seventh year, Arthur couldn't say no. It was he who helped heal my heart; he let me know that it was okay to grieve for my losses. My father was furious at any hint of me being with the rakish Arthur Weasley, the man had unwittingly seduced most of the local girls!" She winked at Millicent, "He was quite the handsome boy! Fred reminds me a lot of him, in that way."

A blush crept over Millicent's cheeks. "So you married him against your father's wishes?" She asked after a few moments.

"Oh good heavens no! Molly exclaimed and then blushed herself. "I became pregnant just before graduation and then, the rest is history!"

That was quite a story, Millicent had to admit. "Well, it worked out for the best, that's for sure."

Patting Millicent's hand gently, Molly smiled. "You and Fred will be just as happy, I can feel it in my bones."

It felt right, like Millicent had always dreamed having a mother would. Her own mother had been hateful, spiteful and downright rude. She had never wanted children and Millicent had been her pathetic attempt at winning her husband's favor. Unfortunately, Millicent wasn't a boy, and thus, her mother resented her for it—not that it was Millie's fault in the slightest. Pureblood families, especially those as old as the Bulstrodes and Prewetts, often were married for alliance, not for love. The fact that Molly had overcome that, made her even more proud to call her a friend and…well, mother-in-law, for now.

"Thank you Molly," Millicent said with a smile. "So, is there any particular reason you stopped by?"

Molly gasped and stood up, "Of course! Oh here I am, blabbering all about me when we should be focusing on you!" She hurried to her large purse and began pulling out different magazines, mostly back issues of Modern Wizarding Bride, Romantic Weddings on a Sickle and Witch Weekly's yearly bridal issue from somewhere around nineteen-eighty-two. "I was thinking we should have the wedding at Hogwarts. I already asked Minerva and she thinks it's a splendid idea!"

Millicent paled, "You told Minerva?" She cried, burying her face. Did everyone in the Wizarding World know?

"Don't worry, dear, she was very excited. She always thought you had so much potential back at school!" Smiling, she flipped the magazine open to a page she had dog-eared. "I was thinking a Christmas wedding! I know it's soon and all, but you two are already married really, and I can get all the details for a real binding ceremony finalized by then!"

Christmas was less than a month away. Choking, she wished Fred were here, he could've thought of something to say. She just nodded stupidly and listened as Molly took out her dict-a-quill and began to made notes.

"As for the dress, you'd look beautiful in the one I used for my binding, if you'd like to wear it." Happy tears were shining in Molly's eyes. "It'll have to be taken in, as I was quite pregnant by the time we got all the plans ready for our binding, but I know that the ivory will compliment your complexion beautiful." Running her hand over Millicent's curly hair, as she would a child, she smiled. "You don't know how happy this makes me, seeing my last two boys married, Fred and then Ron."

Tears worked their way into Millicent's eyes as well; how would she ever tell Molly that her marriage to Fred was a lie? Swallowing the last of her tea, she noticed that is was now starting to grow dark, "Well I think we can finalize these plans a bit later, I need to send a letter off to your brother Fabian this evening."

Shock registered on her face, "What's happened, child? It must be serious if you're willing to owl that dour old man! He won't even answer MY owls!" She huffed and frowned.

"Well," Millicent started, biting her lip, "Marcus Flint is harassing me at work, trying to have sex with me. He says he earned it, giving me a raise and a better job. It's gotten out of control…he's joked about it for years, but he now, he isn't joking."

Anger and dismay spread over Molly's features as her hands went to her meaty hips, "Why that ungrateful bastard! I'll take care of this!" Stalking to the floo, she put a pinch in. "Fabian's Flat!"

Gasping, Millicent ran over to stop her before being dragged through the floo like a wayward child. With Molly's hand still firmly clasped on Millicent's wrist, she dragged the younger girl into Fabian's private study and knocked loudly. "Fabian!"

A gruff voice emanated from behind the heavy door, "Willow, I told you never to bother me in here."

"Fabian Eleanor Prewett, I'll bloody well bother you whenever I please!" Pushing the door open, she stood before her now-decrepit brother. Even though he was barely ten years older than her, he looked centuries older than his age. He sat in a bathrobe, old issues of the Daily Prophet strewn around his feet like decaying leaves and his white hair was tousled. "And I'll have you know, I am not a house elf!"

Sitting up, his watery blue eyes flashed with fire. "Molly! What in the bloody hell are you doing here?" He snarled, "And…Millicent? What is this, an ambush?"

Millicent averted her eyes, praying that she'd sink through the floor like a ghost before this got any worse. But much to her dismay, he addressed her and she gave him a tense smile. "Good evening, sir," She added nervously.

"I'd like you to meet your newest niece-in-law, brother dear. Millicent has married our Fred!" She said, smiling, not bothering with Fabian's sour attitude. "I hope you'll come to the official binding, I'll be sending you an invitation."

"Answer the question, Mol," Fabian sneered, keeping his attention on his sister for the moment. "I trust you didn't come all the way over here to tell me something I'd have read in my paper anyway."

Folding her arms, she finally let for of Millicent's wrist. "It just so happens I'm here to discuss how your damn paper is run!" She bit out caustically. "It seems that bastard you have in charge, Marcus Flint, has been propositioning dear Millie at work!"

Fabian's anger dissolved in a second as he looked over at Millicent, "Is this true?" He asked, standing up from his chair. He was a truly large man, standing at almost seven feet tall, "You don't have to answer; you're not the first young lady that's complained about him to our human resources department. I will see to this immediately…" A wicked smirk crossed his face, "I've been looking for a reason to get rid of that ingrate for a while now…it's only out of loyalty to Augustus that I allowed him to stay."

Millicent went to move back when he strode toward to her, a smile playing on his mustached face. Had she said something funny? Because it certainly seemed like he and Molly were in on some kind of joke she was oblivious to.

"You're even more beautiful than Augustus said you were," Fabian said gently. Resting his heavy hand on her shoulder, he smiled tenderly. "As much as he loved his grandson, he always held you in much higher regard, and he made me give my word to make sure you thrived at the paper." Reaching down, he pulled up the Quidditch Quarterly, "You've done well, child."

Happiness flooded her heart, "Thank you, thank you so much Mister Prewett."

He scoffed, "Its Fabian, please, I suppose we are family now." Casting a glance back to Molly, he frowned again. "Good evening Molly, if you don't mind, I have work to do."

Lunging forward, Molly's arms encircled her brother, "See you later, love." Once again, she took Millicent's wrist. They quickly returned back to Millicent's flat and Molly encircled her in a hug, "Have a good evening, deary, I'll see you at dinner on Sunday!"

Smiling, Millicent watched Molly leave. With a cry, she sat back on her couch. What was she going to do now? How would the family accept the fact that she and Fred weren't really married? Worse, how was she going to give up the only family she'd ever known, if even for a few short weeks? Lying against the couch, tears streamed down her face…

This couldn't end well.

Thank you to my lovely reviewers. Theresa, thank you so much for your support! I have about 70 pages written in this story and I'm getting very close to finishing it!