All right, I've succumbed
May. 23rd, 2006 02:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrilI swore up and down I wouldn't write any Harry Potter fics until after Book Seven came out, because I'm a stickler for canon and I'd hate to write stuff that would all have to be re-worked when the series was finished. But wouldn't you know, after HBP I got the idea for a scene, and it just wouldn't leave my head until I wrote it. I made it ambiguous enough that maybe, just maybe, it might still work at the end. I won't publish it before then, though.
And then this week I got another idea, and I just couldn't rest until I'd gotten it out. Aw, heck, I'll post it. Why? Because there's just not enough fics devoted to long-time, happily married couples. Too many hormone-crazed girls writing poorly disguised vehicles to play out their fantasies, while the "boring" relationships are too often ignored. Mind you, in my mind romantic relationships in general are just one thin slice of a lovely pie full of different kinds of relationships. I could write oodles of fics about my precious Neville and his parents...(back, plot bunnies! back, I say!!) but when I want do want to write something romantic, well, I'm all for the old marrieds. (because I'm talking romantic, and not NC-17 crap. Blech.)
So, with that prolonged intro/disclaimer/rant, here's a little ficlet.
Mollywobbles
“I got here as fast as I could.” Arthur hurried to Molly’s side. She was sitting at the table, her head buried in her hands, but the sound of his voice she looked up, and even managed a watery smile.
“Oh, Arthur!”
“There, now.” He held her, stroking her hair. Another person might have tried to comfort her by saying that Gideon and Fabian had been tremendously brave, that they had died fighting for a great and noble cause, and would not want her to cry for them. Arthur just kept his mouth shut. Molly didn’t need words right now.
Gradually, her sobs slowed down, and she pulled away to look at him. Her eyes were red and puffy; clearly, this was not her first bout of tears. Her hair was a tangled mess and clashed horribly with her maroon housecoat – Arthur suspected she hadn’t changed since morning. Altogether, she was a dreadful sight.
He thought she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Arthur,” she whispered, “I just can’t believe they’re gone.” She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed hopelessly at her sodden face. “Gideon was just here yesterday, in the kitchen, telling me a joke about a chicken and a warlock.” Fresh tears ran down her face. “And I told him not to be so coarse and shooed him outside!”
Arthur smiled. “He was probably chuckling about it to his last breath. Nothing ever daunted his sense of humor.”
“Maybe.” Molly hiccupped. “If only my last words had been kinder...”
“Did you say good-bye before he left?” Arthur asked quietly.
“Well, yes, I did.”
“There.” He squeezed her hand. “That’s a kind enough last word, I’d say.” He looked at Molly seriously. “Gideon always knew you cared about him, Molly, you needn’t doubt that. Fabian too.”
“Yes, I know.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “It’s hard to be sure of anything now. Ever since You-Know-Who.” Her head down, she whispered, “I can’t be certain, from one day to the next, if it’ll be the last time I see someone.”
“I know what you mean.” Arthur recalled the icy terror that had run through him when he heard that they had gotten the Prewetts. He hadn’t been fully assured of Molly’s safety until he had come here and seen for himself.
“Arthur...” Molly looked at him, her lip twitching. “I don’t know if I could bear to lose you.”
His heart began pounding, but he responded in as casual a voice as possible. “Oh, I don’t see that I’d be a very important target to the Death Eaters – just a junior member of a very minor department at the Ministry, right?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said sharply. “Everyone’s in danger now. I almost wonder –” She stood up abruptly and went to a window, looking at the night sky. “Why bother? Loved ones are torn apart every day. All the plans and hopes and dreams – gone.”
Arthur came to stand beside her and said softly, “All the more reason to make the most of the time we have, Mollywobbles.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide, and he gave a tentative smile. He hadn’t planned on bringing this up now – coming on the tail of Gideon and Fabian’s deaths, it seemed almost indecent – but who knew if there would be another time? “Arthur, are you –?”
He took her hand and looked intently into her red-rimmed, beautiful eyes. “Molly, whatever time we have left, I want to spend it with you. I want us to be husband and wife.”
“Oh, Arthur!” She threw her arms around him, crying all over again. With her face in his shoulder, she gave a muffled, “Yes.”
Gladness surged up into every part of him, though tempered by the somber circumstances that had brought him here. But perhaps it was fitting that their uncertain future began at such a bleak time. Unable to restrain a sigh, he held her at shoulder’s length, hands on her arms, and said, “It’s only fair that I warn you, though – I’m never going to be wealthy. If you can accept being a poor man’s wife – ”
“Arthur,” Molly interrupted, “don’t be ridiculous.” She waved a hand at the cramped kitchen. “It’s not as if I’m not used to it. All the Galleons in the world couldn’t buy what matters most.” She smiled at him almost shyly. “With you I’d feel like the richest woman in the world.”
“And I’ll be the richest man,” he grinned. He kissed her, and felt as if time stood still for that moment, giving them a taste of happiness without fear or dread, happiness that lasted till death and even beyond the grave.
It was the most peculiar feeling, but somehow it seemed that he and Molly were face to face with You-Know-Who and standing defiantly against all his hideous powers. After all, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could not stop them from being together, then his powers weren’t really so great after all, were they?
“What are you thinking of?” Molly whispered in his ear.
He shrugged, and smiled. “I think there’s a chance we may win this war after all.”
With Molly at his side, anything seemed possible.
And then this week I got another idea, and I just couldn't rest until I'd gotten it out. Aw, heck, I'll post it. Why? Because there's just not enough fics devoted to long-time, happily married couples. Too many hormone-crazed girls writing poorly disguised vehicles to play out their fantasies, while the "boring" relationships are too often ignored. Mind you, in my mind romantic relationships in general are just one thin slice of a lovely pie full of different kinds of relationships. I could write oodles of fics about my precious Neville and his parents...(back, plot bunnies! back, I say!!) but when I want do want to write something romantic, well, I'm all for the old marrieds. (because I'm talking romantic, and not NC-17 crap. Blech.)
So, with that prolonged intro/disclaimer/rant, here's a little ficlet.
Mollywobbles
“I got here as fast as I could.” Arthur hurried to Molly’s side. She was sitting at the table, her head buried in her hands, but the sound of his voice she looked up, and even managed a watery smile.
“Oh, Arthur!”
“There, now.” He held her, stroking her hair. Another person might have tried to comfort her by saying that Gideon and Fabian had been tremendously brave, that they had died fighting for a great and noble cause, and would not want her to cry for them. Arthur just kept his mouth shut. Molly didn’t need words right now.
Gradually, her sobs slowed down, and she pulled away to look at him. Her eyes were red and puffy; clearly, this was not her first bout of tears. Her hair was a tangled mess and clashed horribly with her maroon housecoat – Arthur suspected she hadn’t changed since morning. Altogether, she was a dreadful sight.
He thought she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Arthur,” she whispered, “I just can’t believe they’re gone.” She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed hopelessly at her sodden face. “Gideon was just here yesterday, in the kitchen, telling me a joke about a chicken and a warlock.” Fresh tears ran down her face. “And I told him not to be so coarse and shooed him outside!”
Arthur smiled. “He was probably chuckling about it to his last breath. Nothing ever daunted his sense of humor.”
“Maybe.” Molly hiccupped. “If only my last words had been kinder...”
“Did you say good-bye before he left?” Arthur asked quietly.
“Well, yes, I did.”
“There.” He squeezed her hand. “That’s a kind enough last word, I’d say.” He looked at Molly seriously. “Gideon always knew you cared about him, Molly, you needn’t doubt that. Fabian too.”
“Yes, I know.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “It’s hard to be sure of anything now. Ever since You-Know-Who.” Her head down, she whispered, “I can’t be certain, from one day to the next, if it’ll be the last time I see someone.”
“I know what you mean.” Arthur recalled the icy terror that had run through him when he heard that they had gotten the Prewetts. He hadn’t been fully assured of Molly’s safety until he had come here and seen for himself.
“Arthur...” Molly looked at him, her lip twitching. “I don’t know if I could bear to lose you.”
His heart began pounding, but he responded in as casual a voice as possible. “Oh, I don’t see that I’d be a very important target to the Death Eaters – just a junior member of a very minor department at the Ministry, right?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said sharply. “Everyone’s in danger now. I almost wonder –” She stood up abruptly and went to a window, looking at the night sky. “Why bother? Loved ones are torn apart every day. All the plans and hopes and dreams – gone.”
Arthur came to stand beside her and said softly, “All the more reason to make the most of the time we have, Mollywobbles.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide, and he gave a tentative smile. He hadn’t planned on bringing this up now – coming on the tail of Gideon and Fabian’s deaths, it seemed almost indecent – but who knew if there would be another time? “Arthur, are you –?”
He took her hand and looked intently into her red-rimmed, beautiful eyes. “Molly, whatever time we have left, I want to spend it with you. I want us to be husband and wife.”
“Oh, Arthur!” She threw her arms around him, crying all over again. With her face in his shoulder, she gave a muffled, “Yes.”
Gladness surged up into every part of him, though tempered by the somber circumstances that had brought him here. But perhaps it was fitting that their uncertain future began at such a bleak time. Unable to restrain a sigh, he held her at shoulder’s length, hands on her arms, and said, “It’s only fair that I warn you, though – I’m never going to be wealthy. If you can accept being a poor man’s wife – ”
“Arthur,” Molly interrupted, “don’t be ridiculous.” She waved a hand at the cramped kitchen. “It’s not as if I’m not used to it. All the Galleons in the world couldn’t buy what matters most.” She smiled at him almost shyly. “With you I’d feel like the richest woman in the world.”
“And I’ll be the richest man,” he grinned. He kissed her, and felt as if time stood still for that moment, giving them a taste of happiness without fear or dread, happiness that lasted till death and even beyond the grave.
It was the most peculiar feeling, but somehow it seemed that he and Molly were face to face with You-Know-Who and standing defiantly against all his hideous powers. After all, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could not stop them from being together, then his powers weren’t really so great after all, were they?
“What are you thinking of?” Molly whispered in his ear.
He shrugged, and smiled. “I think there’s a chance we may win this war after all.”
With Molly at his side, anything seemed possible.
