Nobody freak out! I know this is their wedding day and I usually save those for the end, but I have something really special planned for chapter 32... :)

30 June 1970 – Flying

Molly lay in bed, wide-awake, though she knew that she had to sleep. Her mind was racing with a thousand different thoughts. Her mother and father, with whom she had argued so terribly about Arthur just the other day…what were they going to do in just a few hours when they came upstairs and found her bed empty? She should never have talked Arthur into this—it was a terrible idea, what were they thinking? They were only nineteen, they were inexperienced in the world, they barely had steady jobs—

And they were made for each other.

Made for each other. What a funny expression, Molly thought, as though people came out of some great machine that made them in pairs—but it was how she had always felt about Arthur. At first, it had been some silly joke among the girls in her year—Emmeline, especially, had always teased her that she ought to go out with Arthur, because their red hair matched. But they grew up alongside each other, year by year, all through school, and Molly began to wonder if there wasn't a bit of magic in their coincidental friendship.

This day was almost a year in the (extremely secret) making—two, if you counted the time they were preparing for their engagement. They had wanted jobs before anything else, of course. They agreed that they flat-out needed to start off with some money of their own if they didn't have their parents' approval to marry, so doing an impetuous run to apply for a marriage license was off the books—though Arthur had fought hard for it. Instead, he found a job in the Ministry, and Molly got one in her mother's ward, nursing at St. Mungo's. It was difficult to see very much of each other, and for almost two years, most of their communication was in quick meetings at the Leaky Cauldron and short notes to one another.

And yet somehow, it seemed like only weeks had gone by since the last day they had spent together at Hogwarts.

Molly closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves. This was what she wanted; this was all she had wanted, for—well, for a very long time. But then why did she feel so utterly petrified?

She heard the sudden tap of a pebble at her window and stiffened. Was it five o'clock already? She quietly slid out of bed and crept to the window, where the sky was just beginning to get light, and opened it. Down in her parents' garden stood Arthur, smartly dressed in new robes and grinning at her. He held up a bouquet. Molly smiled back nervously, feeling herself melt.

"One minute," she whispered, and she hurried back into her room. Yesterday, Arthur had given her a box from Madam Malkin's—an early wedding present. She dressed quickly in the cream-colored silk robes, but paused, looking down at her vanity table. A single Knut lay there. She smiled and picked it up, then hurried to return to the window. Arthur was still waiting with his bouquet. His jaw dropped.

"Wow."

"Shh," Molly insisted. "I'm coming down." He nodded as she ducked inside once more, turned on the spot, and Apparated directly beside him a moment later. "Hello," she whispered, standing on tiptoe and kissing his cheek.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Molly swallowed hard, but nodded. She turned and looked up at her house. "I'll be back soon," she said, trying to joke. Arthur didn't believe her; he took her hand in his and smiled. He felt the Knut that she held.

"If you aren't ready—if you're really sure they'll—they'll do something drastic, when we come back and tell them—" he began, but Molly quickly shook her head.

"This is what I want," she insisted, though she wished she felt it a little more strongly in her churning stomach. "I—I think I was born ready."

Arthur smiled. "I'm scared too."

"Of having me for a wife?" Molly teased.

"Well, no…that part sounds pretty great," he admitted. For a moment, they were quiet, simply staring into each other's eyes…all the pain and sorrow of the horrible news that was flying around nowadays—Muggles being killed, the Dark Mark appearing over the homes of people they knew and loved, werewolves attacking without the full moon—it all seemed to hang in the space between them, threatening to tear them apart.

"How do you feel about children?" Molly asked. It wasn't as though they'd never discussed it, but this conversation was a comfortable one—one that didn't involve the utterly mad act of actually leaving her front garden to go and get married.

Arthur grinned. "They're sort of soft and squishy, don't you think?" Molly stifled her laughter behind her hand, and he linked their fingers together. "So are you really ready, or are you going to wait until after this is all done with to tell me about your other boyfriend?"

Molly shoved his shoulder. "I would never, Arthur Weasley."

Arthur looked stunned. "You wouldn't? Well—then I should—I guess I should probably tell you about my other wife…"

"Shh!" she told him, barely able to control her laughter.

"It's not me giggling, is it?"

"I'm going to—"

"Spend the rest of your life with me?" he interrupted, lifting one eyebrow.

Molly narrowed her eyes. "Suave. Very suave."

"Why, thank you," he replied, brushing one hand carelessly through his hair. Molly shook her head, feeling a sudden, overwhelming rush of love for Arthur, and she wrapped her arms around him. He seemed surprised at first—but then he relaxed and embraced her just as tightly.

Molly felt tears come to her eyes and shut them quickly, not wanting to ruin her makeup. She blinked hard and looked up at him. He smiled at her.

"Will you marry me, Arthur?"

He grinned even more widely. "Yes, Molly, I will."

And arm in arm, they walked down the road to catch the Knight Bus—though if anyone had asked Molly, she would have said that they flew.