This was sort of an interesting idea that popped into my head. I was skimming through unusual Molly/Arthur canon moments, and it occurred to me that unlike in the movie, it's Molly who's with Harry the night of the Third Task. And then, when I was organizing all of these oneshots, I realized that I think I've got like four that happen in 1995! Big year for the Weasleys... XD haha

Thanks for all the reviews! Enjoy!

25 June 1995 – Order

Molly sat at the kitchen table in the Burrow, gazing down into her mug of tea. Her eyes were dry as paper, painful to close in the late afternoon light that streamed across the table. She glanced up at her clock. Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny were at school, of course. Bill was travelling—on his way to see Charlie, no doubt, who was at work, just like Percy. Arthur's hand, too, rested on Work—though Molly knew he was not at the Ministry, but visiting Dumbledore.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been awake for so long—she had gone the entire night fully awake at Harry's bedside, and given him a goodbye kiss before he had woken up, before going to talk to Dumbledore herself. She felt utterly drained, but she was somehow still totally alert and very, very nervous. Every flicker of a shadow blowing a branch near the window, every sudden noise made her high-strung and anxious. She buried her face in her hands, feeling her eyes water.

A soft whirring noise drew her attention; Arthur's hand spun round the clock face to Travelling, and she looked up expectantly at the back door. A moment later, it opened, and Arthur trudged in, looking pale and worn. He looked at Molly and smiled gently.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said.

And, unexpectedly, Molly pressed her lips together, feeling her chin tremble, and her tears spilled over. She drew a shuddering breath as Arthur pulled up a chair beside her, pulling her into his arms.

"Oh, Molly, Molly," he murmured, kissing her cheek and pulling her against his shoulder. "Molly…it's all right, darling, it's—it's going to be all right. Don't cry, Molly, don't cry…"

She sniffed heartily. "I just—I don't—I don't know what…it's so awful Arthur, it's awful!" she wailed, throwing her arms around him. "Everything—the stupid, stupid tournament—and Harry—and—and Fudge, that idiotic man! And—oh, that poor Diggory boy! Poor Amos!"

"I know," said Arthur gently. "I know."

"I'm so glad you weren't there," Molly told him honestly. "I—I'm never going to—forget that…"

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I'm so sorry."

Molly wiped her tears away, sighing heavily.

"Are you tired, Molly?"

She nodded. "I'll be all right. I'd rather be awake right now, honestly."

Arthur stroked her arm. "How is Harry?"

Her chin trembled again. "He's not the same boy. He's just—he's not. He's been through so much, Arthur, and—and now this, it's…it's cruel." She folded her hands tightly on the tabletop and was silent for a long minute. "You know…sometimes, when I check that—the clock—I have a little moment of fright, because I can't find Harry?" She gave a miserable laugh and sniffled. "That poor boy."

"You've got a good heart, Molly," Arthur said. He picked up her hands and kissed them.

She drew a deep breath. "I asked Dumbledore if we might take him straight from King's Cross when the train arrives. I can't imagine letting him go to those terrible people for one more summer."

"And?" Arthur asked.

She shook her head. "He seems to think that Harry needs to go back. I'm afraid I might have been a little short with him. But we can collect him after a couple of weeks, and then he can stay here, with us."

"That'll be as good as anything," said Arthur, "I—well, I have something I need to ask you about, Molly."

She raised her eyebrows.

"How—Dumbledore told me that—you saw the argument with Fudge—and Bill said that you were determined that we would help," he said. Molly frowned slightly. "I want to be sure that—well, that you're sure. It does mean…joining the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore explained it all to me just now—"

"Yes," Molly said sharply. "Yes, Arthur—I meant what I said."

"All right," he answered slowly, "But—the Order—"

"I know," she said.

"Fourteen years ago—"

"Fourteen years ago I had six children under the age of twelve and one more on the way, and I'd just lost my brothers," Molly told him, setting her jaw. "I wouldn't have gone near that organization with a ten-foot broomstick, nor would you have done. But Arthur," she said, taking his hand, "I don't think we have a chance of stopping Bill, or Charlie, or Percy from joining—we'll probably even have to fight Fred and George on it, they're seventeen now. The best way we have of staying together is to—to help."

Arthur stared at her.

"Unfortunately, you and I have raised seven children with very strong convictions," she said, with a weak smile. "But don't make me remind you where they got them from." She swallowed hard. "This is all going to come down to who believes in Harry and Dumbledore, and who doesn't. That's pretty clear, right now. And I think we both know where we stand on that matter."

"Not unfortunate, at all," Arthur said, his voice cracking slightly. Molly gave a tired sigh, but, as she always did, leaned forward and rubbed the small amount of red hair that still remained on top of his head. He smiled and kissed her hand, saying, "We're going to be all right, you know. All of us."

"I know," she said. "But I wish I didn't need to hear you say that."