Arthur entered the modest sized house with a noticeable bounce in his step. Christmas Eve was one of his favourite days of the year, although compared to the day that followed it was dust on the floor. It was a simple annoyance that they followed through with each year.
He glanced down at his Muggle watch, his heart a distant flutter in his body as he counted the final few seconds of the day in a whisper.
It was then that he noticed Molly in a slightly slouched position on the couch; her arms hugging her legs, most likely to keep warm. Without a second thought, Arthur picked up a crocheted blanket from the floor and wrapped it gently around his wife. His lips met her forehead in a loving gesture.
“Arthur?” she questioned softly, eyes still gripped with sleep.
“Hmmm?” Arthur hummed in response. Slowly, trying not to disturb her further, Arthur climbed onto the couch next to Molly.
In the same soft dream-like tone, Molly said, “You’re late.” Her head, covered in a crimson mess of hair, blindly found its way to her husband’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” murmured Arthur, the soft pads of his fingertips pressing gently against her uncombed hair. However, he didn’t dare offer his legitimate excuse for fear it would only upset her.
Shortly before they decided to purchase The Burrow, the couple had decided it would be in both of their interests if Arthur took a second job. It was only a part-time one that forced him to work odd hours such as today. It was only on a rare occasion, like tonight, that it upset the time that was scheduled to be spent with Molly.
“Christmas?” The first words of the question seemed to be lost from her dream-like trance, but Arthur understood her question.
“Yes. It’s Christmas.”
Suddenly, Molly had cast the blanket aside and was off the couch. Her grin was large and made her face seem brighter than the Christmas tree that was in the centre of the room.
Molly’s wand was in her grasp as she spun around the room in a blur. First she lit the fire, which soon was followed by the fairy dust that suddenly appeared on the tree; the sparkles most resembled a light flurry of snow. In quick succession candles from around the room came to life, their colours a variation of green and red. And with a final spell, a carefully wrapped package with a large red bow came soaring towards Molly, and it hesitated in front of her just long enough for her to grab it from the air.
“It’s Christmas!” she said with a similar amount of glee a young child would possess on such a holiday.
Seemingly pleased with herself, Molly returned to the couch, the package in hand. When she briefly glanced down at the parcel a sheepish look overtook her features.
Molly took a deep breath before her crimson lips parted and she claimed, “I know I was the one who made such a big deal out of not getting each other gifts, but when I saw this I simply couldn’t resist.”
Arthur visibly allowed a sigh of relief to escape his lips. His hands worked quickly through his layered cloaks, struggling to remove them from his body. When Arthur was finally free from the fabric, he retrieved his wand from his pocket and mumbled the spell to send his own gift for Molly towards him.
His stiff fingers struggled to move in the correct motion. Instead, they shook violently from the cold winter night. Arthur’s carefully chosen gift came soaring towards them, clearing Arthur’s head easily. Luckily, the newly decorated Christmas tree was there to cushion its stop, or else the Weasley family might have had a new window for Christmas also.
As his face transformed into a deep red colour, Arthur retrieved the gift from the tree.
However, as minutes passed Molly couldn’t resist laughing at the spectacle. Her recently decorated tree was now toppled over, sending a cloud of sparkles into the air. It was only after the flakes of sparkles settled onto the floor that she could finally control her laughter and manage a somewhat sober look.
In comparison to Molly’s, Arthur’s own gift was messily wrapped, though that was easily forgiven. Molly’s sparkling package was in the simple shape of a square. In drastic contradiction, however, Arthur’s gift was in an unnameable shape that resembled more of a long stick with a head than anything else.
“You really didn’t have to,” remarked Molly, although the growing grin on her face illustrated her happiness better than any amount of words could.
In a careful tangle of hands, they finally managed to exchange gifts. Once this difficult task was completed, they both sunk to the couch, each waiting for the other to open their gift first.
Finally, after a brief silence while each person excitedly waited for the other to open their gift, Arthur insisted she opened her gift first.
“Okay,” agreed Molly. Her finger carefully found the place where one layer met the next, and she gently dragged her hand along the opening. It would have been obvious to even a complete stranger that she was only opening the gift so quickly because she was anxious to see her husband unwrap his. The wrapping paper fell off the gift smoothly, giving to the atmosphere of the shocked look that framed Molly’s features.
However, Arthur mistook the shock on her features for shocked excitement. His grin continued to grow on his profile, before it seemed that his entire face would be claimed by the happiness that was pulsing through his veins.
There was no fake, ‘Do you like it?’ or ‘You can take it back if you want.’ Instead there was only the sure feeling within him that his wife adored the gift. As boastful as it might have sounded, it was anything but. Truthfully, Molly did love the gift, but it was the fact that she had no camera to place on the shiny metal stand that had startled her so.
“It’s gorgeous,” she managed to choke out. Her delicate touch skimmed the smooth metal texture of the camera stand, before she looked towards her husband to open his gift.
“Go on,” she prodded, tapping the square shaped package gingerly.
Arthur tore the decorative paper from the box. After struggling to remove the box’s binding, Arthur finally revealed the carefully stacked records. As if in a trance, his hands separated one from another, his eyes reading the titles rapidly.
“I figured you might want some new songs for that old thing,” she joked playfully. Her now timid fingers twisted her morning coloured hair in thin coils, before she released them to spin in wild directions.
The same shocked look played on Arthur’s profile. After only a few seconds passed, too quick of a time period for Molly to catch the edge of horror in his eyes, he hid the look from his face and replaced it with a cheerful grin.
“Thank you,” he replied slowly, his mouth twisting around the oddly formal words.
Molly was the first to give into the tiredness of the night, a long vertical yawn escaping her mouth. The contagious yawn quickly spread to Arthur.
“We probably should get some rest if we plan on visiting anyone tomorrow,” voiced Molly, thinking of the many social adventures they would have to take part in later that day.
“Right,” agreed Arthur as he helped his wife up from the couch. Slowly, the pair found their way to their bedroom, each plagued with guilt.
Once both were in each other’s embrace underneath the warm winter quilt that lay on their bed, the nagging voices in their heads began to truly take effect. They had never kept such a secret from one another. They both were aware that they would have to admit the truth at some point.
Molly was the first to collapse.
“Arthur,” she began timidly, the nervousness an effect of her guilt. “Looking back, I honestly don’t have any regrets,” she began, “but I traded my camera for those records. I just thought I’d tell you, but I do love the camera stand.” After a short, calming breath, she added, “Good-night.”
“Me too,” murmured Arthur almost inaudibly.
“You too what?” questioned Molly, confused.
“Traded my record player for the stand,” he mentioned tiredly. “No regrets.” His caveman sounding talk was credited to the exhaustion that had just bloomed inside of him.
Molly grinned, and a small chuckling laugh filled the room. “Arthur?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Christmas By Numbers by FeatherTrader
Chapter Notes: Thank you, Suzie, for beta reading this chapter!