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Arthur Weasley looked up from his book at the sound of voices. A group of girls were pouring through the portrait hole, giggling and chattering. He watched until he was sure that the only one worth watching for wasn’t among them then went back to reading.
It really was a good book. It was about his favourite subject ” Muggles and their funny ways. The chapter he was supposedly reading at the moment was really interesting, it was about Muggle transportation. At the moment Rookhart Waffling, the author, was explaining about the Muggle’s alternative for apparition and brooms, funny things called auto-mo-biles. Arthur’s eyes travelled slowly down the page. The words were having a hard time penetrating his thoughts. Not even the moving illustration of an auto-mo-bile engine could hold his attention.
Where was she? Right now, at this moment? Walking down a deserted corridor, hand in hand with ” he didn’t finish that thought. What was the use of being jealous when she didn’t even know he existed?
Arthur sighed and turned the page, though he had little idea what he had just read.
By some chance, or perhaps fate, the majority of seventh year girls in Hogwarts were monotonously same. Blonde hair, brown hair, black hair, tall, thin, giggling, flirtatious, thoughtless.
Not her… Not Molly Prewett.
Molly was short, smaller than most 4th years even now in their 7th year, the top of her head barely reaching his chest. She had shoulder length reddish-brown hair, womanly curves and large brown eyes that were most often kind and welcoming but that he had seen flash with indignation and anger. That was what had first drawn his attention to her.
Finally putting aside his book, Arthur settled into his armchair and stared into the fireplace, allowing his mind to wander back to that day in their third year.
There was a commotion in the hall ahead, and Arthur sped up. He could hear the voice of one of the girls in his year in Gryffindor. Prewett ” Molly Prewett. Curious, Arthur ducked under the arm of a seventh year Ravenclaw and found himself at the forefront of a small crowd.
A tall fifth year Slytherin boy was sneering down at two shorter figures, a small redheaded girl that he recognized as the girl in his year, Molly, and an even smaller girl with stringy blonde hair and thick glasses. The little blonde was clutching an armful of books and papers and cowering behind Molly. Her glasses were on an angle and her hair was dishevelled. Arthur didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t a Gryffindor, he was quite sure.
“You pathetic excuse for a human being ” what did you think, that it made you so important and frightening ” tripping a first year and scattering her things? You idiotic flobberworm!” Molly was shouting. Her kind face had been transformed. She looked like a she-wolf about to bring down a moose. Her wand was out, gripped firmly in her hand, occasionally spitting blood-red sparks out of the end.
Arthur stared at the little blonde girl, trying to remember her sorting from a month before. He was just coming to the conclusion that her name was Jean Elliot and her house was Hufflepuff when the Slytherin boy flicked his wand out of his pocket. Molly shrieked something, a spell he thought, and pointed her wand at the fifth year bully.
There was a bang and the boy was thrown backward a few feet, knocking over two of his fellow Slytherins. Immediately he sat up again, yanking at the front of his robes, his hands scrabbling wildly. Finally, he managed to pull his shirt open, displaying the large greenish boils that were erupting all over his chest.
The crowd, who had turned as one to watch the Slytherin when he’d been blasted backward, turned as one once more to gawk at Molly Prewett. She was just disappearing through a gap in the circle of onlookers, her arm round the little Hufflepuff.
Moments later Professor Dumbledore slid through the crowd and crouched beside the pain stricken fifth year. After a momentary examination he pulled him to his feet. “To the Hospital Wing with you, Mr. Travers,” he said, motioning for the students still crowded around to let him through. Then he turned his light blue eyes on the rest of the crowd. Arthur watched as the students around him suddenly seemed to remember pressing engagements, hurrying away in groups of two or three, already discussing the show down.
Travers’ two friends stepped forward, their voices raised in complaint.
“Prewett attacked him, sir, no reason!”
“That little snot, she was yelling at him because that little Hufflepuff fell over. It’s not his fault the little idiot’s clumsy!”
“She attacked him, professor! Didn’t give him any time to defend himself, just attacked him!”
Arthur could feel the blood rising in his face.
“That’s not what happened!” he said loudly, running forward. “He tripped that first year and Molly was defending her, Professor! And Travers drew his wand first, I saw it! They’re just ashamed that he’s slower than someone two years behind him!”
Professor Dumbledore turned to scrutinize him while the Slytherins glared.
After a moment the Professor seemed satisfied. His eyes twinkled and he seemed to be smiling behind his long white beard. He looked from Arthur to the Slytherins and back again.
“Thank you, Mr. Weasley, however I'm afraid that I shall have to take fifteen points from Gryffindor for Miss Prewett's behaviour. It would not be wise to encourage rule breaking, and magic is not to be used in the halls.” This with a stern look as Arthur opened his mouth to object.
“But I shall also be taking fifteen points from Slytherin for Mr. Travers’ actions.”
The Slytherins, who had been looking smug, suddenly looked affronted. Professor Dumbledore waited for their dissenting voices with one raised eyebrow. The taller of the two opened his mouth as if to speak, waited a moment then closed it again, glowering.
“C’mon,” he grunted, and he and his friend skulked away in the direction of the Hospital Wing.
Professor Dumbledore turned back to Arthur and his beard twitched.
“There is no need to look so glum, Mr. Weasley. The spell Miss Prewett used should keep Mr. Travers occupied long enough that I felt it quite unnecessary for overly strict punishment.”
Arthur couldn’t help grinning back. Professor Dumbledore winked and walked away down the corridor and Arthur set off the opposite direction to his next class, still grinning.
It had taken two years for the immense respect Arthur had gained for Molly on that occasion in the third year to deepen into the feelings he had for her now. He had dared not call it Love then, at the age of fifteen. He knew it could be nothing else now at the age of seventeen.
Arthur had learned much about her the day she had defended the little Hufflepuff. Molly Prewett had a temper. She was brave ” she had not shrunk from the defence of the first year even though she had been outnumbered three to one by boys much larger and older then herself. She was powerful and skilled ” she had beaten someone with two additional years of magical study. She was protective of those weaker than herself, no matter if they had no more claim on her protection then that ” that they were weak. She would not stand injustice or cruelty.
In the years since then he had learned more. He had listened when she spoke and learned that she was smart, had a witty sense of humour and made a point to always speak the truth. He discovered her extreme loyalty ” she would do nearly anything for the people she cared about. She was very kind and went out of her way to help others.
She was wonderful.
Arthur was brought abruptly out of his reverie by the sound of the voice of Molly Prewett. She was speaking softly but his ears had long since been tuned to pick out her voice amidst hundreds. Arthur peered furtively around his armchair, looking for the source of the voice.
Molly was standing by the portrait hole, speaking quietly to someone standing just outside it. After a moment she waved goodbye and the Fat Lady’s portrait swung closed. Molly turned and Arthur could see the bemused expression she wore as she walked over to a nearby table, sat down and pulled out her homework.
Jealousy twisted his stomach and Arthur whirled back to look at the fire again, this time with a mixture of anger, hurt and longing on his face.
Arthur knew that he loved Molly now. He had come to terms with his love for her over the summer and walked onto Platform Nine ¾ on September 1st with every hope in the world that he would be dating Molly Prewett before September was over. He had boarded the train and gone in search of her, but it had been too late. When he found her she had been nestled in the arms of John Wentworth, Captain and Seeker of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
With an inscrutable face he had sat with them in their compartment, watching miserably as she laughed at his jokes, stared happily into his eyes and blushed whenever he looked back into hers.
That was three months ago now.
She was still dating John Wentworth.
…
Oh, the joys of young love.
Arthur's Obsession by hogwartsbookworm
Story Notes:
I just adore Arthur and Molly, so here is my contribution to this under-loved ship!
Chapter Notes: Arthur does some reflecting by the fire.
Chapter Endnotes: I hope you liked this chapter. Please, review!!