The Saturday a week before the break, the students of Hogwarts awoke to discover the grounds covered in a blanket of sparkling snow. Arthur, sleepily glancing out his dorm window, took one look at the knee-high powder and let out an excited yell. Dirk, the only boy in the dorm not yet out of bed, jerked awake.
“I didn’t do it,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
Arthur shook his head, grinning.
“I doubt even Dumbledore could do that! Look at all that snow, Dirk!” He turned to look mischievously at his friend. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
Dirk groaned and heaved himself out of bed.
“That it’s cold outside?”
Arthur shook his head, waiting for Dirk’s stupor to clear.
Dirk ran a hand through his hair and looked sleepily around at the other boys in the dormitory. Thomas Turner was smirking, having just comprehended Arthur’s statement. Jacob Montgomery was already pulling a pair of gloves and a scarf out of his trunk. Only Solomon Clearwater looked unexcited, though he seemed to understand Arthur’s meaning.
Finally, a sly smile crept over Dirk’s face.
“Snowball fight?”
Arthur grinned.
“Exactly.”
…
Molly was surprised when Arthur Weasley, Dirk Creswell and two other seventh year boys nearly bowled her over as she entered the common room, all of them wearing coats, hats, gloves, scarves, and nearly-identical expressions of glee. Only Arthur slowed his forward momentum enough to explain, breathlessly, “Snowball fight. You want to come?”
Molly, surprised, stuttered, “I… Yes, I’d love to! But you know, I really… Well, I’m not dressed for it”“
“We’ll be down by Hagrid’s hut. Bring a few friends.” He grinned. “You’ll need them.” And with that, he ran after his own friends.
Molly stared after him for a moment, then, turning to look at the common room at large, she saw her best friend, Dorcas Meadowes, looking back at her, alongside another pair of faces that looked remarkably similar to Molly’s own.
“You think we can take them?”
Gideon and Fabian smiled and Fabian cracked his knuckles. Dorcas raised an eyebrow and pretended to contemplate the issue.
“Well, let’s see. The most powerful witch in the year ” oh, that’s you, of course ” with the second most powerful witch in the year ” myself, obviously ” and the ‘Unstoppable Prewett Duo.’ Against Weasley, Creswell, Turner and Montgomery? Mmm, I don’t know, that does sound like pretty even odds…”
She snorted.
“Of course we can take them, Molly!” Then, smiling, she added, “And we can beat ‘em, too.”
…
Dirk laughed when his snowball landed squarely in a preoccupied Arthur Weasley’s face. Arthur fell onto his backside, sputtering, and Dirk turned to see what had distracted his friend. His wasn’t too surprised when he saw a small group of people making their way towards them through the snow ” snowball fights were open to anyone. But that short female figure at the front of the group looked very familiar… Dirk’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.
“You invited Molly?”
Dirk turned to look at Arthur just in time to avoid being hit by his return snowball. Arthur looked delighted.
“Yeah, I did. And she came! Hey, go easy on”“
He was interrupted by a snowball to the stomach from Thomas.
“Oh, you’re asking for a beating now, Turner!”
“Well, then, give it to me, Weasley!”
Laughing, they started chucking snowballs at each other as fast as they could make them. After a moment Dirk took Arthur’s side and Jacob took Thomas’s, and the air was filled with hard-packed snow. Dirk didn’t even notice that Molly’s group had joined the fight until suddenly he was being pounded with so many snowballs he couldn’t see straight.
“Oi! Thomas! Jacob! We’re under attack! Help!”
The barrage let up somewhat, and Dirk could see Arthur next to him, laughing.
“Still want me to go easy on her, Art?”
Arthur’s grin was somewhat maniacal.
“What do you think?”
Dirk laughed.
“I’ll take that for a ‘no’.”
…
“Admit it, Arthur Weasley, I did better than you thought I would!”
“Certainly, I’ll admit it. I never expected that I would be the one who would end up needing my friends. You did very well. You might even have won, if…”
“…If that tree root hadn’t tripped me, yes. I still say you somehow managed to call it up out of the ground when you knew you were going to lose.”
“Why would I do that?”
Arthur was genuinely shocked. They were sitting in an unusually full Hospital Wing (due to a seasonal cold that had been flying about from student to student), Molly’s sprained ankle propped up on a pillow while they waited for Madam Dawson to attend to her. The idea of deliberately causing Molly pain sickened him. Arthur remembered the panic that had filled him when she had fallen, inexplicably, face first, into the snow.
Of course, he had been unable to see the root that, hidden in the deep snow, her foot had caught on, and had rushed to her side. When they had discovered that she couldn’t put any weight on her ankle, Arthur had offered to carry her to the castle, but after carrying Molly a few stumbling steps through the deep snow, he had been relieved to hear the deep voice of the huge new assistant gamekeeper, Hagrid, asking if he could help. Hagrid had lifted Molly as easily as a doll, and brushed through the snow, which came hardly to his shins, as though it weren’t even there. Arthur, following in Hagrid’s massive footsteps, had told his friends to go on without them, and hurried after him. Even now, Hagrid was standing nearby, looking anxious and much too large to be indoors.
Arthur had just opened his mouth to ask again what she had meant by her disturbing question, when Poppy Pomfrey, a Hufflepuff in their year and Madam Dawson’s aide, appeared by Molly’s bedside.
“Hello, Molly, Arthur. Madam Dawson’s a bit busy right now, as you can see, so she asked me to take care of you.” She eyed Molly’s ankle for a moment then pulled out her wand. “Corpius totus,” she murmured, waving her wand over Molly’s foot. Molly let out a sharp gasp then smiled.
“That was amazing, Poppy! Thank you!”
“My pleasure,” Poppy said, her eyes twinkling.
Molly hopped off her bed and turned to Hagrid.
“Thank you, very much, for carrying me in, Mr. Hagrid.”
Hagrid smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He rubbed a hand over the dark brown whiskers that covered his chin, and said, “I’m jus’ glad you’re alright, tha’s all. I was glad ter do it. But please, don’ call me ‘Mister,’ Miss Prewett. Call me Hagrid. Everybody does.”
Molly smiled.
“I’ll call you Hagrid, if you call me Molly. Do we have a deal?”
Hagrid chuckled.
“Whatever you like, Molly.”
Another couple of students with bright red noses walked into the Hospital Wing and Poppy sighed.
“Molly, Arthur,” she paused to crane her neck and look up at Hagrid, “Hagrid. I need to ask you three to leave now...”
“Oh, I’m sorry Poppy,” Molly said, hurriedly, snatching up her gloves and coat. “We’ll get out of your way. C’mon, let’s go, Arthur.” And, putting one hand on his arm, she led him out of the Hospital Wing, Hagrid following a few paces behind.
Arthur was very aware of her small, warm hand resting just above his elbow, and his heart flopped about in his chest like a fish on dry ground.
When they had walked a few paces, Molly’s eyes flickered sideways to Arthur’s face and she smiled.
“You know, Arthur”“ she began, but was interrupted by a yell from down the corridor.
“Molly? Molly!”
Molly jumped and her hand flew from Arthur’s arm. She turned to look at the speaker with a somewhat flustered smile.
“Hello, Johnny.”
John Wentworth was striding down the corridor. His face was ruddy from being out in the cold; he was dressed in his quidditch robes and held a broomstick in one hand.
Arthur, his stomach sinking, merely nodded and grunted, “Wentworth.”
Wentworth nodded in return. “Weasley.”
Turning to Molly, he said, “Well, you look alright.”
Arthur bristled at his brusque comment. Molly’s eyes flashed, but she took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Yes. Thanks to Arthur and Mr. Hag” I mean, Hagrid. They carried me up here after I sprained my ankle.”
Arthur was surprised that Molly gave him credit ” he had carried her for hardly a few steps.
“How did you find out I was””
“Injured? Carlotta Hurst told me when I got in from practice. She seemed to think…” Wentworth paused to eye Arthur, his gaze hard. “Well. She had a bit to say. I came as soon as I could escape her.”
Arthur forced his face to remain neutral, though his insides were writhing. Why would Molly ever date a git like him? he wondered, angrily. From behind him, he heard Hagrid gruffly excuse himself, and said goodbye without removing his eyes from Wentworth, who was obviously trying to stare him down.
Molly seemed completely oblivious to the stare-down taking place. She thanked Hagrid profusely once again, said her goodbyes, and then proceeded to walk down the corridor. Arthur and Wentworth started after her, their eyes still locked on one another, daring each other to blink or look away. Molly was prattling about snow and snowball fights, but Arthur was having a difficult time paying attention with a hostile pair of eyes boring into him.
After a few more seconds of aimless chatter on Molly’s behalf and fierce glaring on behalf of the boys on either side of her, Wentworth, in a possessive move, slipped his arm around Molly’s waist and raised a challenging eyebrow. Arthur glared for a moment longer, then, sighing in defeat, he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.
“I ” I’ve got to be going, Molly. I’ll see you around.”
“Oh, yes. I do hope I haven’t made you late for anything?” Molly asked anxiously, coming to a standstill in the middle of the corridor. When Arthur answered in the negative, she continued, looking rather relieved, “That’s good. Thank you, again, for helping me to the Hospital Wing, Arthur. And for inviting me to be part of your snowball fight. It was so very fun! I’ll see you later, I suppose. Goodbye, Arthur.”
And, feeling as if his stomach was in the vicinity of his toes, Arthur turned away and retreated along a different corridor.