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“Arthur? Arthur!”
Arthur jumped and turned to look at his best friend, Dirk Creswell, whose hand was flapping in front of his face.
“What?”
Dirk shrugged.
“I was just making sure you were still alive. You’ve been staring at that fire for hours, mate.”
Arthur grimaced. He had been lost in delusional fantasies about a certain redheaded girl and hadn’t noticed the time slipping by.
Pretending to stretch, Arthur raised his arms over his head and twisted around, surreptitiously letting his eyes skim over the other remaining occupants of the Gryffindor common room. In a corner, a couple of enterprising third years were huddled over homework, despite the Christmas break that loomed on the horizon. On a sagging couch nearby, a sixth year girl with long curly blonde hair was curled up, reading a book. And, still sitting at the table at which he had seen her earlier, was Molly Prewett, asleep, her head cushioned on a thick book and her face peaceful.
Finishing his stretch, Arthur turned back to his friend. Dirk’s face was amused, his eyes glinting mischievously. Ignoring that look, Arthur sat up and began extricating himself from the deep seat of the armchair he had inhabited for the last few hours. When he finally managed to stand, he let out a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes.
“I’m going to bed. Potions tomorrow, you know.”
Dirk rolled his eyes as Arthur bent over and began gathering his books.
“I don’t think Old Sluggy would care if you fell asleep in his class. Well… Maybe if you were in the middle of brewing something that needed ingredients added at specific times”“
“He might not care if you fell asleep,” Arthur said a little jerkily as he stuffed Muggle Man: A Wizard’s Guide to Understanding His Neighbours by Rookhart Waffling into his bag. “But I don’t think he’d be so lenient with me… or any other non-member of his precious little ‘Slug Club’.”
Arthur’s neck, just visible over his collar, had gone pink. Dirk sighed.
“Sorry, Art. I forgot.”
“Forgot that I’m not talented enough for ‘Old Sluggy’s’ taste?” Or anyone else’s, he added mentally, thinking of Molly.
“No. Sorry that I forgot your inferiority complex,” Dirk snapped.
Arthur stood up, his bag under one arm and a look of genuine confusion on his face.
“My what?”
Dirk ran his hand over his eyes and mumbled, “I also seemed to have forgotten you were not raised by Muggles.”
Shaking his head he turned back to his friend.
“Never mind. Let’s get to bed. I could use some sleep too.”
He had already taken two steps toward the stairs leading to the boy’s dormitories when Arthur said, “Dirk, wait a moment, will you?”
Dirk turned to see Arthur picking up a misshapen pillow from a nearby couch. Perplexed, Dirk walked back to his friend’s side and watched as he plumped and squashed the pillow into a more comfortable shape. When Arthur started walking toward the portrait hole, pillow in hand, Dirk, seriously concerned for his sanity, hissed, “What are you doing?”
Arthur turned and put a finger to his lips for a moment before continuing across the Common Room. When Arthur stopped beside the sleeping form of Molly Prewett, Dirk sniggered. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall and watched as Arthur carefully put a hand under Molly’s head, raised it, and with the other arm, pulled out the book she had been resting on and replaced it with the newly plumped pillow. Then, just as carefully, he lowered her head until she was resting on the squashy, plaid-covered cushion.
Arthur looked down at Molly’s face for a moment, his heart pounding. Hesitantly, he stretched out a thin, freckled hand, and tucked a strand of the red-brown hair that haunted his dreams behind her ear. Then, remembering the friend who was, no doubt, watching, and probably laughing at him, Arthur turned away, his face burning.
He managed to cross the room and run up the staircase without looking at his best friend. As they climbed into their four-poster beds a few minutes later, however, Arthur could see Dirk’s dark outline. He was shaking with silent laughter.
His cheeks flaring red again, Arthur settled back into the mattress and tried not to think about the teasing he would endure the next day.
…
Molly Prewett blinked sleepily and sat up, yawning.
Peering at her watch, she was startled to discover that it was twenty minutes past one in the morning. It had been almost ten the last time she had checked. Looking around, Molly saw that she and one other girl, Patricia Stubbs from the year below Molly, were the only ones left in the Common Room. Stretching, Molly took a moment to wonder how she could possibly have slept for over three hours sitting at a table.
It only took a short search for the book she had been reading to find out why. It was no longer sitting open in front of her, but had been pushed to one side and replaced by a small pillow. Feeling suddenly very charitable, Molly picked up the pillow and walked over to the couch where Patricia was apparently just finishing a book, a warm smile on her face.
“Thank you for the pillow, Patty! It was really too kind of you.”
Patricia looked up, startled.
“Pillow?” She blinked at the squashy, plaid-covered thing in Molly’s hand without recognition.
“I didn’t give you any pillow.”
Molly’s smile faded. Her eyebrows came together in a puzzled expression.
“Then who did?”
Patty had gone back to her novel.
“Mmm, some boy, I think. Yeah. Arthur Weasley’s his name, right? Tall, with bright red hair?”
Molly’s eyebrows went up.
“Arthur? Are you sure?”
Patricia gave Molly an aggrieved look and moaned, “Oh, c’mon, Molly, can’t you see I’m on the last chapter? Yeah, it was Weasley. There’s only one guy in Gryffindor with hair that red. Now, if you please, I’d like to finish my book!”
Molly glared at the handsome wizard and swooning witch cover illustration that now blocked the 6th year’s face from view.
Muttering under her breath about the unreliability of sixteen year olds, (and seemingly forgetting that only a year before she had been among their number) Molly walked back to her table, scooped up her books and shoved them in her bag. Then, after shooting Patricia Stubbs and her five-knut romance one last angry look, Molly retreated up the stairs to her dormitory.
…
The next morning, Arthur and Dirk were once again discussing Arthur’s hopeless love life over breakfast.
“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”
“You already know that she’s seeing someone.”
“And you think she wouldn’t leave Went” him,” he corrected himself at Arthur’s look, “for you?”
“Yeah… and I wouldn’t want her to anyway.”
“What? Why not?”
“If he makes her happy…”
Dirk groaned.
“You’re such an idiot, Arthur. Of course she would prefer you!”
Arthur sighed and took a big bite of toast. Dirk gulped down some orange juice and rolled his eyes. Then, with a grin, he sat up straight. His dark eyes were suddenly dancing.
“Arthur… I could tell her for you. We have prefect duty together tonight “ we’ll be helping Pringle with the decorations and whatnot “ and I could”“
“No!” Arthur shouted. He looked positively panicked.
“Well, if you won’t do it”?”
“I will, Dirk! I will. If she decides she doesn’t want… him then I’ll go right up”“
“Hello, Arthur.”
Both boys started and whirled around. Molly Prewett was smiling down at them from her diminutive height, her cheeks dimpling adorably and a look in her eyes that made Arthur worry that she knew exactly what they had been talking about.
“Er, hello, Molly.” Arthur hoped his galloping pulse wasn’t obvious.
“I was talking to Patty Stubbs last night.”
Arthur wasn’t sure what she meant for a moment. Confused, he tried to place the name. Then he remembered. Patricia Stubbs “ she was the 6th year who had been reading on the couch last night! Suddenly the pulse he had worried might give him away for its rapidity seemed to have stopped altogether. What had she told Molly? Composing his face into what he hoped was a calm expression he asked, “Yes?”
“She said you gave me that pillow.”
Arthur’s heart restarted.
“Oh.”
“Yes. So I thought I’d come by and tell you, I thought that was very nice. Thank you.”
Arthur’s cheeks reddened.
“Well, er, you’re welcome… Molly.”
Molly paused as if waiting for him to say something more, but Arthur’s mind was blank. Finally, she turned to go.
“See you around, Arthur.”
“Er, Molly, wait!”
Molly turned back, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes?”
“Er…” Arthur cast about for something to say that would keep her there, with him.
“Molly, er, would you like some, er, breakfast? Yeah, would you like to eat with us, Molly?”
Molly blushed.
“Oh, thank you, Arthur. But I said I’d meet Johnny “ you know, John Wentworth? I said I’d meet him for a walk.”
Arthur once again had to work to keep his exterior serene.
“Oh, right, yeah. Have a nice walk. See you later, Molly.”
He turned back to his breakfast, his appetite severely diminished. Molly, looking flustered, hesitated, grabbed a piece of toast and fled the hall, late for her date.
Dirk, who had watched the exchange with an uncommonly serious expression, turned to his friend.
“I’m sorry, mate, but this is getting pathetic. I don’t care what you say; I’m going to tell her tonight!”
Arthur’s eyes flashed behind his glasses.
“No, you will not.”
Dirk looked surprised at the sudden anger in his usually mild-mannered best friend’s face.
“Alright, I won’t then.” He paused. “But I don’t see any harm in telling her how much better you are than that idiot she’s dating.” His face split in a mischievous grin and he leapt away from Arthur before the angry redhead’s fist could connect with his side.
“See you later, Art!” he shouted as he raced away.
Arthur's Obsession by hogwartsbookworm
Chapter Notes: Which involves a squashy plaid pillow and a mischievous friend.
Chapter Endnotes: Yeah, I decided to make Dirk his best friend. Arthur strikes me as a cautious man, but his defense of Dirk Cresswell in DH wasn't at all cautious. So I decided to work with it.Of course, over the years they would have drifted apart a bit, but he still would have cared enough for his old best friend to speak up. =D
Obviously, I am not JK.
I hope you liked this chapter. Please, review!