She wished she could have confided in him right then. But seeing him so occupied, and thoroughly in his element as he worked the room, she didn’t have the heart to pull him to one side. As she walked past the cloakroom, she saw Hebe swaddled in a sable cloak, her husband’s arm around her as they walked to the front door. Hebe was smiling at something, but her smile wavered when she caught Molly’s eye before she turned her attention back to her husband.
I could ruin you, Molly thought, a soft sense of satisfaction seeping through her. For whatever Hebe said about Donald Bole’s attitude to her affairs, Molly didn’t think he’d be so compliant if everyone knew ‘the details.’ Curiously, she didn’t care anymore. She would hug this secret to her chest, knowing that Hebe had no power to hurt her. Besides, she’d never liked Donald Bole. He was someone her father tolerated, but his wandering hands had always given Molly the creeps.
So she wandered up to bed, more specifically to her bedroom set high in the rafters of the house, and drifted into a surprisingly restful sleep.
The next morning, as she washed and dressed, she debated the pros and cons in her mind of telling her parents about her broken engagement. It was the thirtieth anniversary celebrations, and her family were expected to be prominent, to be on show, as Kingsley and Harry led the eulogies for the fallen.
But as she stared at her left hand, she knew she’d have to come clean immediately. Her father wasn’t the most observant of men, but her mother’s beady eyes would spot the absence of the antique ring as soon as she entered the dining room. There was no point putting it off. And if she came straight out with the truth, perhaps that would ward off an argument. She might even garner some sympathy.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
–Don’t be ridiculous! Of course you’re marrying him,†Audrey snapped. –Percy, tell her to send an owl to Barnabas apologising.â€
–Audrey, I think Molly should be able to make her own decisions -â€
–Because that’s worked so well in the past, hasn’t it?†Audrey replied scornfully. –Don’t you understand anything? We have a position to uphold, and this will be hugely embarrassing for your father.â€
–Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t play happy families to save your face!†Molly retorted.
Her mother recoiled as if she’d been slapped at this show of temper. Then she rallied. –A lover’s tiff, that’s all this will be. Molly, Barnabas is expected to take his place with us at the memorial. It will be commented on if he’s not there.â€
–This is why I’m telling you now,†Molly said clearly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lucy staring at her, mouth agape, as if seeing her sister clearly for the first time. –I won’t be sitting next to Barnabas today, or any day.†She took a breath and then turned towards her dad. –I’m sorry if this is damaging to you, but I can’t stay engaged to him, or marry him because it’s suitable.â€
Before Audrey could speak, Percy leant forwards and took her hand. –Molly, while we only want your happiness, Barnabas is a fine wizard with extremely good prospects. Are you sure this isn’t just pre-wedding jitters?â€
–I caught him with another woman,†Molly said and removed her hand from his grip. –I’m not sure what constitutes a ‘fine wizard’ in your book, but I’m fairly sure Barnabas sneaking off during the party to screw - sorry -†she smiled at the horror on her mother’s face –- to be with a fellow guest isn’t a requirement.â€
–Who?†Audrey asked.
–It’s not important,†Molly replied.
–Then how do we know this isn’t you making an excuse because you have cold feet?â€
Molly sighed and finished her cup of tea, quite surprised her hands weren’t shaking. –You brought me up to tell the truth.†No longer hungry despite knowing the day ahead would be long and she should eat, she pushed her chair back. –If you’d rather I sat with Grandma and Granddad, then I’m sure they won’t mind. I’ll even wear gloves to cover my hand, if that would make you happier,†she said, wondering if her parents could hear the note of sarcasm in her voice.
–Perhaps that’s for the best,†Audrey murmured, her eyes darting from Percy to Molly. –We could say they want their grandchildren near them.â€
–Oh, Mother,†Molly sighed. –What have I done to disappoint you? Was it being Sorted into Hufflepuff, or did your disenchantment with me start earlier?â€
Her father stuttered a reprimand, but Molly didn’t listen. She knew what her mother’s primary objection to her was, and after years of trying, she finally knew there would be no pleasing her - for some things were impossible. Kissing Lucy on the cheek, Molly helped herself to some Floo powder and whooshed to The Burrow.
She could hide nothing from her grandma, whose sharp eyes took in first her face and then her ring finger before enveloping her in a hug.
–What’s happened, my love?â€
She smelt of warm fires and gingerbread, and Molly knew she’d probably been up for hours, baking to take her mind off the ordeal ahead.
–Sorry, I had nowhere else to go. Mum is angry, and Dad doesn’t know what to do. May I stay with you and Granddad today?â€
–Of course you can, if that’s what you want. But won’t you sit down and tell me what’s the matter?â€
–I broke the engagement,†Molly replied, and for the first time since the night before, she felt tears prickle her eyes. –I can’t marry Barnabas. I’m sorry, Grandma, I know you were pleased when I said I was getting married, but -â€
Her grandma didn’t rail at her, or suggest it was cold feet, or a lover’s tiff, or Molly being silly. She didn’t show any disapproval at all. Instead, she reached for a box of tissues, pulled one out and dabbed Molly’s eyes. –I don’t think you loved him, pet, and he always seemed such an odd choice,†she said at last. –So, it’s much better to discover that before you get married than to find out afterwards.â€
–What do you mean odd? Everyone says Barnabas is wonderful.â€
–Thought a lot of himself,†her grandma replied, her lips tight. Pointing her wand at a large frying pan, she set it on her stove and lit the flame underneath. –He’s a very confident man and that can be a good thing, but only if he makes those around him feel better. I don’t think he made you feel better at all.â€
Molly sniffed. –I was so grateful to him for picking me. But I don’t think it was me he liked at all, only what our marriage would do for his career - even if Dad doesn’t become the Minister.â€
–He’s not worth your tears, then,†said her grandma. She patted Molly’s hand then got up and started to cook. Soon the smell of bacon and sausages wafted through the air. Molly sat back and listened to the sounds of people stirring in the house as they smelt the food. Their children might have grown up and moved away, but her grandparents weren’t often alone - the family made sure of that.
The first to appear was her uncle Charlie, his hair tousled and a well-worn dressing gown tied loosely around his waist. He expressed surprise, but also delight, at seeing her there as he helped himself to a slice of toast and a mug of tea.
–Let us know when your wedding is, and Pen and I will make plans. I can swing time off most months, but June’s a bit tricky as it’s the birthing seas-†He stopped speaking obviously noticing that something was amiss. –Uh ... we can make June, really. I can always get cover. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Moll.â€
Molly glanced at her grandma, who’d stopped stirring a pan of scrambled egg as she listened in, probably wondering whether to intervene. Molly smiled at her, and she resumed stirring. –I’ll bear it in mind if I ever do get married, but just for the moment I’m single again,†she said lightly.
He spluttered on his tea and his ears turned a faint shade of pink at her words. Giggling to herself, Molly decided to tease. She rolled her eyes at him, saying, –It’s actually all your fault, Uncle Charlie. I’ve decided to follow your example and never get married at all. This commitment thing is overrated, wouldn’t you say?â€
–Oi, I’m committed, just not married,†he protested. In the silence that followed, he took a gulp of tea and another bite of toast, then winked at her. –Don’t tell your grandma, Moll, she’s still trying to convert me, but marriage isn’t for everyone. And even if I hadn’t met Pen, I think I’d still have been happy because I wouldn’t have known any difference.â€
Molly saw him smiling to himself, a distant look in his eyes as he reminisced. He touched her arm and when he spoke again the teasing tone had gone. –It’s about taking chances, I suppose. I’d never been willing before.â€
Although the combined magical world and its mother had prayed for good weather, by the time the ceremony was about to start, a persistant rain was drizzling down on the dignitaries assembled at Hogwarts. Due to the high number of guests attending, as well as the school pupils, the grounds had been turned into a seating area, with a raised stage near the back entrance to the Great Hall. The plan was for speeches by Kingsley, on behalf of the Ministry, Harry to pay his respects to the Fallen, and old Professor McGonagall to give the eulogy on behalf of the school.
Molly watched as the former Headmistress hobbled out into the grounds on a walking stick. Professor McGonagall had been the headmistress when Molly first arrived, retiring in her fifth year. Hovering behind her was Molly’s former Head of House, who waved when she saw Molly approach.
–Ah, here’s my favourite Weasley,†Madam Sprout bellowed, a beaming smile on her face.
–Who’s that?†Professor McGonagall demanded.
–The one that broke the mould and refused to be placed in your reckless house,†Pomona replied.
Professor McGonagall screwed up her eyes as she examined Molly. –Percy’s daughter, isn’t it?â€
–That’s right,†Molly replied. She stifled the urge to giggle when the pair in front of her began to bicker about their respective houses. It was an old rivalry, but wholly affectionate.
–Hmm, well you can help us cast some Impervious Charms. I do not want to end up with lumbago in this damp weather.â€
–Minerva, I don’t think Molly wants to spend her time with us. She’s probably looking for her fiancé,†Madam Sprout replied and smiled. –Another Hufflepuff wedding. You will remember to send me some cake, I hope, my dear.â€
–Uh ... well, when I get married I will, Professor, and an invite, but I’ve actually called it off. Barnabas and I weren’t suited.†Molly carried on smiling. The more she said these words, the more she knew she’d made the right decision.
–Young Summerby!†exclaimed Professor McGonagall and pursed her lips. –Can’t say I ever liked him. His eyes were far too close together, which is never a good sign.â€
Laughing, Molly waved her wand in the sky, casting protective spells and Impervious Charms all around them. It was a shame she couldn’t have done the same around herself two months ago to ward off Barnabas, but she’d fallen too hard for his smooth lines. At least now, the cold hard truth in the form of Hebe Bole had allowed her to see the actuality of her life. And as she worked with her two former teachers, another truth fell into place. She might not get married. She might not meet anyone ever again. But did that matter?
Her parents were talking to Barnabas when Molly had finished helping the professors. From across the lawn she could see her dad, with a stony expression on his face, whilst Barnabas appeared to be pleading with them both. Her mother, in smart blue and bronze robes, wasn’t smiling but did appear to be listening. Then, when Barnabas finished speaking, she laid a hand on his arm and started to speak. At that, Percy stepped away. He turned his head, caught Molly’s eye and headed towards her.
–Summerby is assuring us you were mistaken, and wants me to intercede,†he murmured in her ear. –He says that the witch concerned was feeling unwell, so he escorted her outside and stayed with her only as a precaution. You came upon him and assumed the worst ... according to him.â€
–I saw him pulling his pants up, Dad. I’m not sure what sort of precaution that is.â€
–I believe you, Molly,†he muttered, and with his hand stroked her hair. –And I’m sorry.â€
–What for?†she asked.
–For the intrusions my career has made on your life. I know how much you hate these official functions,†he replied simply. He removed his glasses and slowly wiped one lens on the sleeve of his charcoal grey robe. –I nearly lost my family once due to my ambition; I don’t want to lose my daughter if I become the Minister.â€
–You won’t, Dad,†she whispered and squeezed his hand. –Family is the most important thing, isn’t it?â€
–It is very important, duckling. But never lose sight of what you want from life, or you’ll end up bitter and unhappy.†Replacing his glasses, Percy stood tall and draped his arm across her shoulders. –Are you going to sit with us today, Molly, or would you rather find somewhere more unobtrusive?â€
–You fought at the Battle of Hogwarts, Dad. Today I can think of nothing better than sitting with a Battle day hero.â€
Looking up at her father, Molly wasn’t surprised to see tears in his eyes. Although a man in control of his emotions, the loss of his brother still hit him hard, especially as he’d seen Fred die in front of him.
–You still miss him, don’t you,†she whispered.
–Yes,†he replied. –Not in the same way your uncle George does, or Grandma and Granddad, but I grieve for the relationship we could all have had if he’d survived. He’d have adored you, duckling.â€
–Really?â€
–Oh, he’d have teased you to bits and you’d have been exasperated beyond endurance at his practical jokes - you’re very like me in that respect. But in the end, you’d both have found some middle ground. And for all their pranks, my brothers cared about their family. I can only imagine what Fred would have done to Summerby if he’d been here.†He grimaced and shook his head. –It would not have been pretty.â€
Molly smiled ruefully. –Mum’s on his side, isn’t she?â€
–At the moment she wants to believe him.†He paused and squeezed her shoulder. –She knows she nagged you into accepting his proposal, and the thought that she made a colossal error of judgement surrounding his character is eating into her.â€
Then, taking her arm, her dad led Molly across the lawn, collecting Lucy on the way. Barnabas didn’t move, his eyes trained on Molly’s face before flickering to her ring-less left hand.
–May we talk, Molly?†he asked, a curious mixture of shame and belligerence in his voice.
She perused him coolly, her eyes examining him from head to toe and then back to his face again, and noted the black hair, perfectly in place and the frown creasing his brow as he waited for her response. She smiled; he smiled back, obviously thinking he’d won her over.
–We have nothing to say, Barney,†she replied. –But if you’d like to come around to fetch the ring, then you’re more than welcome. I dropped it behind the summerhouse, so I imagine it’s still there.â€
It was the following weekend when Lucy’s voice roused her away from the paperwork she was going through in her dad’s study. Keeping busy, she told him, but really they all knew she was keeping out of her mother’s way. Audrey Weasley was still unconvinced by Molly’s story and clung on to the hope that Barnabas would soon be her son-in-law, spending every possible moment pleading his case.
–Even if he was with another woman, Molly, can’t you overlook this slip-up? Men have these needs, after all.â€
–That’s what he said,†Molly replied lightly, and bent her head over the speech she was transcribing for her father.
–Well, then-â€
–Well, then, nothing,†Molly said firmly. –Mum, I don’t want to marry him - or anyone - until I’m ready.â€
Audrey pursed her lips, unsure what to say to this stranger in front of her, but left Molly alone.
–Molly!†exclaimed Lucy, hammering on the study door. –You have a visitor.â€
–If it’s Barnabas, then tell him I’ve looked for his revolting ring and can’t find it.â€
–It’s not Barnabas.â€
Molly looked up from the speech, raised her wand and unlocked the door. Lucy tumbled through, a smile spread across her face. –It’s that photographer,†she whispered gleefully. –Alex? Alfie? Or something.â€
–Aaron? What’s he doing here?â€Molly tried to keep her question casual, but knew from the tremble in her voice that she was failing miserably.
–Well,†Lucy leant across the desk, giving her sister a conspiratorial wink, –he told Dad that Saturday was the only day he could discuss the photographs, so that’s why he’s here. But he’s arrived a whole hour early, and ... um ... he asked if you were around.â€
Molly tried to stop the blush forming on her cheeks, but praying she could suddenly become a Metamorphmagus didn’t help. Lucy started to giggle. –What are you waiting for? You obviously made an impression on him.â€
–Behave. He’s Hugo’s age.â€
–So what? Grandma’s older than Granddad, Aunt Hermione’s older than Uncle Ron, Aunt Angelina’s-â€
–By a few months, not seven years!†Molly exclaimed, but she couldn’t the light headed feeling inside of her. –Where is he now?â€
–The lounge. I said I’d make him a cup of tea,†Lucy replied. Then, bossily, she pulled Molly to her feet and started to brush down her clothes. –Shame you’re not wearing something really glamorous, but it’s too late to change now. Just ...†She frowned as she studied her sister, then flicked her wand, cutting through the hair band Molly had tied her hair back with.
–Lucy!â€
–That’s better. I hate it when you scrape your hair back. It makes you look like a secretary.â€
–I am a secretary.â€
–No, that’s your job,†Lucy countered, as she fluffed up Molly’s hair. –You are Molly Weasley, confident, successful, pretty and single.â€
–And you are Lucy Weasley, annoying and obviously not single if the amount of time you’ve been spending away from us this week is anything to go by,†grumbled Molly.
–Well then, I know what I’m talking about,†her sister said sweetly. Then she grabbed her by the arm and propelled her into the hallway.
–Um, hello,†Molly muttered when she stepped into the lounge.
He was sitting on the sofa, laying out photographs, switching around the order as he removed them from a beige folder on his lap. In daylight, he looked tired with dark circles under his eyes. He’d obviously tried to make an effort for her father because his clothes were neat and his hair had been brushed. But there was one odd curl sticking up from his collar, she noticed and when she looked at his hands, she could see a faint purple stain on his palms.
Aaron looked up from the table. He stared at her in surprise, did a double take, and then smiled. –Miss Weasley.â€
–Uh ... call me Molly, please.†She swallowed, suddenly very unsure of herself despite Lucy’s pep talk. –My sister said you wanted to see me.â€
–Yes ...†He faltered, then gestured to the photographs. –I developed them all, and have brought them to show your father. I thought you might help me select the best ones, as you know what he’d like.â€
–Oh.†Why had her stomach plummeted at that point? –Yes, of course I will.â€
As she sat down at the other end of the sofa, he shuffled sideways and pulled the table with him. One leg caught a ruck in the carpet, tipping sideways and sending the carefully laid photographs spilling onto the floor along with a vase of flowers.
–Shit,†he muttered. Crouching down on the floor, he started to pick up the photos, cursing again when he found some of them dripping with water. He glanced across at Molly. –Excuse my language. They were in order, that’s all and now I’m not sure these ones can be rescued.†He smirked slightly and held up a picture of Hebe and Donald both flinching away from the water. –Not that I’m bothered about this one. Can’t stand the man.â€
–Do you know them well?†Molly asked, then bit her lip. From her own experience, she knew Hebe Bole wouldn’t be bothered about an age gap, and Aaron Harper was no doubt young enough to keep her occupied.
–My family have a gemstone business,†he explained, now trying to sort through the pictures. –Donald Bole has an interest in one of our emerald mines, and Hebe was engaged to my brother a few years ago. Then she met and married Bole.†He stopped speaking, glanced across to the door and then back at Molly. –Not that it’s stopped them meeting in private, every so often.â€
As he started to lay the pictures out again, he scowled, trying hard to remember the order.
–That one was before that one,†Molly said, pointing to the picture of herself with her dad, and then the one with Lucy. –And Kingsley and I were talking after I’d met her boyfriend.â€
–I could do with you keeping notes for me,†he said gratefully. –I love this job but the paperwork does my head in, at times. Although ...†Aaron tilted his head sideways, his eyes flickering from photo to photo. He started to arrange them again, this time interspersing the photos of Molly with other guests. Occasionally he changed things around, but the ones of Molly stayed in the same order.
–That’s it,†he said, breathing a sigh and rocking back on his heels. He grinned at her. –You’re a good timepiece, Molly.â€
–What do you mean?â€
Aaron sat back on the sofa, this time in the middle, so Molly couldn’t edge away without looking rude. He beckoned to her and pointed to the first photograph of her on the stairs with her father. –It’s your pearls. In this picture they’re quite ... um ... dull.â€
–They’re old,†she replied defensively.
–I can tell that,†he soothed. –And I’m not doubting their quality. They’re a lovely string. It’s just ... well ... too many people make this mistake with pearls. They shut them away in a box for months on end and only get them out for special occasions.â€
–And that’s a problem?â€
He screwed up his nose. –Not exactly, but if you ever wear the pearls again, then you should wear them for a few hours first.â€
–Why?â€
He pointed to the second picture, then the next, and finally at the photograph of her chatting to Kingsley. –Look at the difference.â€
–Oh!†Molly stared at the pictures, noticing now she looked closely that the pearls around her neck seemed brighter in the later pictures.
–Pearls should be worn next to the skin,†he murmured. Molly looked up to find his dark eyes staring intently into hers. –They take their lustre from the body’s natural oils and warmth.â€
–I-I-I didn’t know,†stammered Molly. She turned away, hiding the blush on her cheeks as she pretended to be interested in the picture of her parents greeting Kingsley.
–Well, I do. I may not work for my family, but you can’t help picking these things up,†he replied. –You look happier in that picture with the Minister. It surprised me because I thought you’d be nervous around him.â€
She smiled regaining her equilibrium. –I’m Minister Shacklebolt’s secretary. We’ve shared too many coffees and snatched lunches at desks to be formal with each other.â€
With a wave of her wand, she righted the vase and levitated it away from the coffee table and across to the mantelpiece. –If you don’t want to wait for my father, I can always show him the photographs.â€
–I’d rather wait, but ... †Clipping the photographs together, he put them back in the folder, then cleared his throat. –I have half an hour to kill, so would you show me the ducks again?â€
She surprised herself by saying yes, and with a smile led him through the French windows and across the lawn. Weather wise it was very different from the week before. The sun was high in the sky spilling its rays on the ground below and showing off the garden her mother had striven so hard to cultivate. She expected Aaron to stop, as he had the week before, to take pictures, but he showed no signs of wanting to, so she carried on walking until they reached the willow tree.
–This was where I last saw you,†he murmured, almost to himself. –A blur of blue silk and pearls, swathed in green leaves.â€
–You were very kind to me that night,†she muttered.
–Was I?†He looked faintly bemused by something. –You didn’t think I was a jerk, then?â€
–Why would I?â€Molly asked. She started walking across the gravel path but Aaron caught her hand and pulled her towards him.
–Because I kissed you, and I shouldn’t have done. That bastard had just attacked you, and you needed peace, and not another crass idiot forcing himself on you.â€
She remembered his lips on her brow, then the feel of them on hers and his fingertips soft on her skin, smoothing across her shoulder - as different as could ever be from Barnabas as he’d slammed her against the summerhouse wall.
–That’s not how I remember it,†she said, stepping closer.
The sun was lilting through the willow branches, picking out the lights in his hair, and the curious yellow flecks in his eyes as he leant towards her. She wondered how she could ever have thought him nondescript. And then his mouth was on hers, his lips soft and warm and gentle. She forgot about his age, or her age, or whatever that niggle had been in her mind, all she could think of was how good this felt after two months of Barney’s hard, cold kisses, and years of nothingness.
He pulled away, still cupping her face and caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. –May I see you again? I’ll take it very slow.â€
She was about to nod, when a soft crack and then a shriek made her start.
–All that nonsense about poor Barnabas, and this is the reason you broke it off!†her mother exclaimed. Behind her stood Barnabas, a look of pure gloating satisfaction on his face as he took in the situation. Molly tried to step aside, but Aaron took her hand and kept her close.
–Mrs Weasley, I came to show your husband the phot-â€
–Yes, we know your story,†Audrey replied. –And it’s a good cover, an ingenious way to inveigle yourself into my daughter’s life just when she’s having silly little doubts.â€
–It’s not like that,†protested Molly.
–Get away from him,†Audrey ordered. Molly stayed where she was, feeling the pressure from Aaron’s hand as he willed her not to leave. –Barnabas has come here to talk to you. He doesn’t mind that you have lost the ring and is willing to buy you a new one. All this can be forgotten-â€
–Mum, will you please just listen to me for once in your life?â€
–I have listened to you all week,†Audrey declared. –You’ve rattled on about Barnabas’ supposed ‘infidelity’ and yet failed to mention your own!†Taking a breath, her mother smiled and took a step towards her. –Come back to the house and have a proper talk. You and Barnabas can sort this out.â€
–There’s nothing to sort out.†Molly turned her attention to Barnabas, wondering how she could have ever been attracted to someone so... so ... so suitable. Aaron’s thumb was caressing the back of her hand in slow steady strokes. She returned the pressure, and edged closer to him.
–Would you like to get out of here?†he murmured.
–Please,†she said out of the corner of her mouth.
–Hold on tight, then.â€
She grinned up at him as he clasped her waist. –Mum, we’re going around in circles with this. If you think Barnabas is so bloody wonderful, then you marry him!†she cried, just as Aaron span with deliberation and Apparated them both away.
–Oh, this is glorious!†she said, catching her breath as they landed in a heap. Looking around her, she saw they’d arrived at what she presumed was his flat. It was somewhat tidy, at least she couldn’t see dirty cups and plates, or smell anything revolting which always happened when she visited James and Louis. But instead of scrunched up socks, there were piles of paper, folders stacked on a desk and photographs spread on the floor.
–My flat’s glorious?†he questioned, raising one eyebrow in disbelief and levering himself off her.
–Running away,†she explained. –I never realised it would be so much fun.†Then she blushed as she thought about what she’d said. –I know it’s not permanent; I’m not expecting you to put me up or anything, but if I could stay here for an hour, or so, until she calms down -â€
He stopped her mouth with a kiss, and then another, his hands pulling her towards him, his fingers in her hair. She could smell the musky scent of him, feel his tongue sliding into her mouth, and moaned when his mouth travelled to her neck.
–Merlin, I’m sorry,†he muttered, pulling away.
–What for?â€
–I said I’d take it slow, and here I am pawing you like that bastard did the other night.†He straightened up, but kept hold of her hand, raising it to his lips. –You can stay as long as you want. And ... um ... would you like a cup of tea, or something?â€
–Something?â€
–Uh ... well, I have beer in the chill-charm cabinet. But I can easily make tea.â€
She thought about it. It was just past two o’clock in the afternoon. She rarely drank, except at her father’s functions or the occasional glass of wine with Kingsley, but ...
–Beer sounds good.â€
Aaron grinned at her, pulled her to standing, and ushered her to his sofa. Then, clearing a space on the table, he Summoned two bottles of beer and set one in front of her. –To ...†He stopped as he tried to think of the toast. –To running away.â€
Chinking her bottle to his, Molly took a gulp of the beer allowing the cold liquid to trickle down her throat. –To saving me, again.â€
He wrinkled his nose and twisted his mouth into a lopsided smile. –I don’t think you needed saving, really. You’re quite capable of taking care of yourself.â€
–From Barnabas, perhaps. My mother is another danger entirely.â€
He reached across and smoothed a lock of her hair behind her ear, his finger lingering on her cheek. –You don’t get on with her very well, do you?â€
–I’m a disappointment to her,†Molly replied, and took a big swig from her beer, spluttering when it foamed in her mouth.
Waiting until she’d recovered, Aaron moved closer drawing her head down to his chest. –How could you be a disappointment? You’ve got a good steady job. I heard the Minister praising you, and Shacklebolt is a shrewd man.â€
She started to speak, her voice muffling in the fabric of his shirt, half- hoping he couldn’t hear whilst she recited her deepest fears. –I wasn’t a boy,†she said baldly, then took a breath. –And if I couldn’t be a son to carry on the Weasley name, she at least wanted a swan for a daughter. A girl like herself - a Ravenclaw with wit - and not a dowdy duckling.â€
–You’re not dowdy,†he muttered. And then, with infinite tenderness, he lifted her chin with one fingertip and gazed into her eyes. –Swans hiss and spit, and peck so hard they can break your arm.†He bent his head towards her, their foreheads touching, and kissed her lips. –Ducklings are soft and warm and utterly adorable.â€
She could feel a tear prickling her eye, so feeling ashamed, she twisted away and reached for her drink. She took a more measured sip, and studied the room. He’d hung photographs on the wall, his family she presumed, but one was of a girl - quite beautiful, who giggled and laughed and batted her eyelashes at the pair of then.
–My sister,†he said, following her gaze and touching her hand with his little finger, tracing small circles on the palm. –It was my first commission, to photograph her coming of age party.â€
–Why me?†Molly asked abruptly, pulling her hand away. Her eyes focused on a pin board stuck with pictures, where two or three witches pouted down from the wall. –I’m not at all like these girls.â€
–You’re still,†he replied, and smiled wryly at her obvious bemusement. –Sorry, I’m not very good at explaining. But when I was at that party, I noticed how little you moved. You don’t pose, or preen, or pout at the camera, and that’s refreshing.†Sifting through a pile of folders on the floor, he pulled out a single photograph and laid it on the table. It was the last photograph he’d taken. ‘A blur of blue silk and pearls’ he’d said, and looking now she could see the shine of the pearls and the glimmer of tears in her eyes as she’d turned back to him.
–This could be a Muggle photograph, and that intrigues me. You intrigue me,†he continued, his voice soft as he nuzzled her earlobe. He took the bottle from her hand, placing it back on the table, and all the while, his lips didn’t leave her skin. His kisses intensified; she responded with fervour, a fervour she’d never felt with Barnabas, or the boy at Hogwarts who’d been more interested in Dominique. Aaron’s hands left her shoulders and slid downwards stopping at her waist as he gathered her onto his lap.
She moved her hands to his chest, not quite sure whether to push him away, but when one of his hands travelled up her back and began to circle the nape of her neck, she found herself dropping kisses on his neck and jaw and mouth.
–Is this going too fast?†he muttered.
–No... yes... er ...†she hesitated, and in that moment, he pressed a finger to her lips and enveloped her in his arms.
–Tell me.â€
–Oh gods,†she choked. –This is so embarrassing but ... uh ...†She stared over his shoulder at the zig-zag pattern on the cushion behind his back.
–We’ll stop,†he decided.
She took a shuddering breath, yet it wasn’t relief flooding through her, but disappointment.
Taking chances, her uncle Charlie had told her. But chances could dissipate like feathers on the breeze.
–I haven’t done this before,†she admitted, burying her head in his shirt.
–Wh ... what!â€
–I know. I feel so stupid, but this ... um ... situation hasn’t ever occurred before.â€
–What about Summerby?†he asked, shifting her off him so they were sitting side by side.
–Um ... well ... I told him I wanted to wait, and he accepted that.†She gulped before carrying on and stared at her hands. –I think that’s why I didn’t want to set a wedding date. Knowing I’d actually have to sleep with him was very off-putting.â€
Aaron picked up his beer and took a long, drink. His hands were trembling, but when he turned back to face her, his voice was steady. –Am I off-putting?â€
–Uh ...†Her voice shook, and the gentle pressure of his hand on her thigh didn’t help. –Not at all,†she muttered. –You’re the very opposite, but I ...â€
–But, what?â€
–I can’t help thinking I’ll be a dreadful disappointment to you.â€
–Never.†Aaron leant across and pecked her on the cheek. –We can take this very, very slow, Molly.â€
–How slow? Only ...†She met his eyes, suddenly sure that the desire she could see in his eyes was a mirror to her own.
–You can tell me at any moment when you want to stop,†he whispered.
She gasped as his tongue snaked from her neck and underneath the collar of her shirt. –Oh, Merlin, that’s good.â€
–It can get a lot better,†he assured her. Chuckling, he slipped his hand under her skirt, to nestle between her legs. His thumb feathered a path upwards, turning her insides molten, and without quite knowing what she was doing, Molly parted her legs and lay back on the cushions, her hand moving up and down and across his back until it rested on his hipbone.
–We have all weekend,†he whispered into her neck, –to get to know each other.â€
His hands fumbled a touch on her top button, but soon she lay beneath him, her bra strap dipping off one shoulder to let his mouth find her breast. –Well, look at you, Molly Weasley,†he teased, moulding his hands around her breasts. –Adorable.â€
She wanted to reply, but the words became confused in her mind when he began to move his hand in a rhythm so gentle she could barely register the contact, except that it was there and soft and urging as he coaxed her to climax.
–Gods, gods, gods,†she moaned, arching into him, intent on prolonging the ecstasy.
In dizzying release, she opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression unreadable. –Thank you.â€
Pulling her shirt back over her shoulders to cover her up, Aaron smirked and wrapped his arms about her. –Glad to have been of service.â€
–Don’t you want to ... um ... continue?†she asked quietly, burying her face in his shoulder.
She could feel his mouth in her hair curving into a smile, and his hands warm through the thin fabric of her blouse. –I’d love to, but the last thing I want is for this to go too fast and then you regret it.â€
It was her turn to smile. Half turning her head, she kissed his cheek whilst letting her hand slink downwards. –I’m twenty-seven. I’m not sure I can go much slower,†she replied.
At that, Aaron scooped her up into his arms, and staggered to another room. He kicked the door open to reveal a small room, housing his bed. Placing her lightly against his pillows, he peeled off her remaining clothes, before tugging off his trousers. He lay beside her, stroking his palm up her side, and into the dip of her waist. Molly followed his lead, running soft fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach, delighting in the gasp emanating from inside when she slid her hand further down. And as she stroked him, feeling him hard against her hand, Aaron lost any vestige of self-control he had. With a feral groan, he flipped her onto her back and lay on top of her. Molly twisted her legs around his waist, and gripped his arse, exhorting him on. She muffled a cry as a stab of pain hit her, and he hesitated, but then she smiled and whispered for him to continue.
Driving onwards, he shuddered incomprehensibly, finally collapsing on top of her, his breathing deep and irregular. –Out of this world,†he said at last, murmuring apologies and ‘thank yous’ in equal measure.
Almost absentmindedly, he ran his hand up to her shoulder, then swooped down to kiss her neck, and nuzzle her ear. –I think I made the wrong toast, earlier,†he whispered.
–In what way?†she asked, quivering under his touch as he lazily traced his finger across her neckline.
–To pearls against skin,†he murmured, –regaining their lustre and never again becoming dull.â€