15 February 1965 – Homework

"Miss Prewett, it's time for your potion."

Molly opened her eyes and looked up at Madam Pomfrey, the new Hogwarts matron, who was standing over her. She sat up, tugging her mother's homemade blanket around her shoulders, and nodded.

"Still no voice?" she asked sympathetically, and Molly shook her head. "Don't you worry, dear. It'll come back soon."

Molly swallowed the cup full of potion and coughed. Eyes watering, she nodded again. "Thank you," she whispered hoarsely, wiping her nose with her handkerchief. She looked down at her hands, which were still a pale shade of green. She had been in bed for almost three weeks with dragon pox. Not only had she missed all of her lessons in that time, but she had also been quarantined in the hospital wing, and not allowed to see any of her friends—even Gideon and Fabian. If not for the fact that her fever had broken earlier in the week and Madam Pomfrey had assured them that it was unnecessary, she was sure her parents would have taken her straight to St. Mungo's—that would have been really unbearable.

But today was Saturday—and Molly always spent her Saturdays with her new boyfriend, Arthur Weasley, doing homework in the common room. And thanks to a conversation she had overheard (accidentally) between Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall (at her bedside, when they thought she was sleeping) Molly knew that Arthur had been stopping by every single day to ask if he could see her.

And, as sweet as that was…she didn't want to see him. She was still green, for Merlin's sake! If that didn't send Arthur running, she was a veela.

Molly bit her lip, scratching gently at one slightly darker green patch on her hand. If Arthur was waiting to come and see her, then what?

"Put some of this salve on that," said Madam Pomfrey, handing Molly a little tray with a pale purple lotion in it. It smelled like lavender. Molly smiled and rubbed it on her hands.

"My mother makes potions," Madam Pomfrey told her with a wink. She was busily rearranging her medicine chest. "But she's much better at it than I am. All I know how to do is make the medicine—and it almost always smells terrible. She knows all the little tricks for making it easier to take."

Molly smiled again. Her own mother worked in St. Mungo's children's ward, and was similarly talented; she suspected that Madam Pomfrey knew this.

Madam Pomfrey straightened up, having put away all of her medicines, and faced Molly, wiping her hands on her apron. "You've got a visitor," she said. "I'll give my permission for a visit if you feel well enough. It's Mr. Weasley."

Molly blinked, looking away for a moment. She scratched a tiny spot on the side of her nose, thinking. Then she looked at Madam Pomfrey and laid a hand on her chest, giving a cough and shaking her head slightly.

"All right, then," she replied—knowingly, to Molly's embarrassment. "Then I'd like you to lie down and sleep—"

"Molly? Molly? Are you behind the curtains?"

She jumped, looking wildly at Madam Pomfrey, who hurried out of the curtains that surrounded her bed. "Mr. Weasley! What on earth do you think you are doing?"

"Sorry Madam Pomfrey, I just—"

"Miss Prewett is still in my hospital wing!" Madam Pomfrey told him, and in her mind's eye, Molly could almost see Arthur's ears turning scarlet, as they always did when he was embarrassed. "I've told you for weeks to be patient!"

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," he mumbled.

Quietly, Molly slipped out of bed. She shivered, but crept to the opening in the curtains. Through a small gap, she could see Madam Pomfrey's back and Arthur, looking very ashamed.

"That's all right, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey was saying. "Come with me, now—" Molly stepped forward and gave a slight cough. Madam Pomfrey turned, looking rather surprised. "Miss Prewett?"

"Molly!"

Molly gave Madam Pomfrey a tentative sort of smile, shifting her weight from foot to foot—the ground was cold. She didn't look at Arthur; she was too nervous.

"Well—very well," the matron said at last, looking bemused. She placed her hands on Molly's shoulders and steered her back through the curtains. "Back in bed. You can have half an hour."

Madam Pomfrey got her settled, and Molly tugged her blanket close round her shoulders again. Finally, once Madam Pomfrey had gone, she met Arthur's eyes. His expression was impossible to read.

She smiled at him, and, looking startled, he smiled back. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

She nodded, still smiling nervously, and pointed to her throat.

"Oh," he said. "Your voice is gone? Okay—well—that's all right. I can talk for both of us."

Molly blinked.

"Yeah," Arthur said, "No problem. Er—Arthur, what are you doing here?" he demanded of himself in a high-pitched voice. "I won't let you put yourself in mortal danger! Not for me!"

Molly lifted her eyebrows as he made his voice deeper.

"But Molly," he said, "I would do anything for you—fight a dragon—or maybe just dragon pox." He looked at Molly, suddenly nervous, and smiled. "Besides, I've missed you—and you needed me to bring you your homework, anyway." Arthur bent over and picked up his school bag, resting it on the end of Molly's bed. "It's Saturday, you know, and we've got work to do. No more of this lying about nonsense!"

Molly laughed hoarsely.

"Oh, Arthur, you're so thoughtful," he replied to himself. "I'm certainly glad I finally let you take me to Hogsmeade instead of stupid Ricky Bobbitt."

Molly blushed. Shyly, she reached out one hand and took Arthur's. His ears turned bright red, but he didn't pull his hand away. Then she caught sight of her own green-tinged fingers and withdrew them, tucking both of her hands under her comforter. Arthur noticed.

"Have I ever told you that I really like the color green?" he asked.

Molly stared at him, and he blushed an even deeper scarlet. She felt her own cheeks grow warm, but leaned forward and reached into Arthur's bag. She pulled out his Muggle Studies book and pointed to it. His favorite thing to talk about was always the latest topic that had been covered in his lessons.

Still pink-faced, he took his book. "Have you ever heard of a motorcycle, Molly?" he asked, riffling through to find the right page.

She shook her head, and Arthur grinned.