Chapter 2
Half an hour later, Fred sat on a chipped wooden bench, watching his puppy splash in the water, scaring away the geese and lapping up the water. It wasn't long before a soaking wet dog was plodding out of the lake, water dribbling from her fur. After letting Willow shake herself off, Fred re-attached the lead and began to lead her home through the park. In the summer sun, it didn't take long for Willow's fur dry silky smooth again and by the time the two were back at the house steps, Willow was panting slightly in exhaustion.
As soon as the front door opened, Willow, dragging her feet slightly, walked into the living room and curled up on the sofa. Fred however, entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. Like most things in the house, it was practically empty. Fred sighed and slammed the fridge closed. He couldn't wait to move- maybe a new house would mean a new start. Maybe, Kat will learn to appreciate Fred and his family. Maybe she'd act like she actually loved him.
Immediately, Fred felt immensely guilty for thinking that way. Nothing about what had happened recently had been Kat's fault!
Fred glanced quickly at the clock. It was crazy to think that they had less than three hours left in that house. Less than three house before the delivery vans came. Less than three hours before they close the front door for the last time. The house Fred had lived in for twenty years. The house he and Kat had raised their only child in, the house Molly had grown up in. That house….
House. Not home. Fred had never been able to call this building home; not properly. For him, his true home would always be the magical world. The Burrow, Hogwarts, his joke shop, not offices and Muggle cities. That didn't seem right. After all, Fred and his family had fought to protect their world for years. Every one of them was willing to make sacrifices to protect what was theirs. How could you run away from that and call something opposite home?
The white door swung open and Molly stepped into the kitchen.
"Hey, dad," she said as she walked around the table.
"Hey, Mol," Fred replied, watching her with a sense of curiosity. "What are you up to?" he asked suspiciously.
"Oh," Molly coughed awkwardly, "Well you see…"
"Molly?" Fred said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "What have you done?"
Seeing the look of amusement on her dad's face, Molly sighed in relief and said, "Well you see father dearest, in the eleven years that I have lived in this lovely abode, I have been creating a small stash."
Fred jokingly leant on the table and repeated, "A stash?"
"Why, yes. A small stash of sweet delights," Molly explained, kneeling down and reaching under the table.
Curiously, Fred peered down to see his daughter teasing a floor tile. She slid her nails under the crack and the tile popped up to reveal three piles of chocolate, sweets and toffee, all tucked into the space underneath one single tile.
"Molly!" Fred exclaimed, "You mean to tell me that you found this hiding spot and kept sweets in it for years, without telling me?"
"Erm… yes?"
"I'm proud of you," Fred said, "I have taught you well."
Molly giggled, "Somehow I don't think mum would agree."
"Mum used to agree." He sighed, "Come on, let's sneak this stash of yours upstairs. We'll have to find somewhere to hide it all in the new house."
"I think you mean I'll have to find somewhere new to find it," Molly corrected.
"Ha! Only if you want mum to find out."