Pet Peeve: Molly Weasley. She hella annoys me. She's grasping, manipulative, controlling, and her joking about using a love potion on Arthur makes me ill. Fics where she's the perfect mother, and wonderful and amazing are ridiculously fake. Conversely, fics where she's half troll and the entire family's dirty little secret are similarly unbelievable. However, everyone has some reason why they have certain traits, and my overactive imagination conjured up images of what might have happened in a young pureblood witch's life to make her be so controlling, and, well, she did joke in the books about having used a love potion.
"Marry me, Molly." the words hung silently in the air, nearly visible between the two seventh year students whose soft laughter vanished abruptly when the words left Lucius's lips. Instantly, Lucius wished he could kick himself for the way he had phrased the question—Malfoys asked their betrothed to marry them only as a formality, since the contract would have been long since finished by both parties' parents—as well as wanting the moment to last forever, because Molly's eyes were fixed on his face with complete attention, and he loved it when Molly looked at him as though they were the only two people in the world.
Molly gazed silently at Lucius Malfoy for a long time, conflicting emotions warring on her face. The blond object of her scrutiny was uncharacteristically silent as he leaned back in his chair, laced fingers in front of his chest, elbows on the arm rests. Molly found herself inanely focused on his boots. Completely at odds with the rest of his sleek, groomed look, the boots were made of heavy leather, scuffed, covered in long scratches that accumulate from wear, and looked more like boots that a muggle wildfire fighter would wear than the wealthy Heir to the Malfoy estate. Finally, she lifted her eyes back to his face and took a deep breath.
"I can't marry you, Lucius." she said quietly. "I've been betrothed to Arthur Weasley since I was six. Magically. It can only be broken with his or my death." Lucius looked murderous.
"I can arrange for that." he said quietly, the venom in his voice apparent. "You, my lovely Molly, would be wasted on that boy," he spat. "Come away with me, please." The last word was almost unspoken, how quietly did he breathe it, a little plea escaping the proud Heir who deigned beg for his bride. Molly stood up biting her lip nervously and smoothed the front of her robes down with a little flare of satisfaction. Lucius Malfoy wanted her, Molly Prewett, and thought that Arthur didn't deserve her. But then Molly thought of how Arthur looked at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. The gleam in his eye when he held out his arm to side-along apparate her to his parents' house and she sighed.
"Don't kill him, Lucius." she said wearily. "He loves me…and I think," she continued cautiously, knowing that her next words would probably kill the spark of happiness that appeared in Lucius's eyes every time he saw her, "that I could love him too, given enough time." Lucius stood with all his normal fluidity and grace, but his movements were closer and more controlled than usual. Molly forced herself to meet his eyes and stood also. She half reached an arm out towards him but stopped when he recoiled from her. He turned away from her and strode across the brightly lit room. All of Malfoy Manor was ornate and opulent, but dark. By contrast inn Lucius's wing of the house—the Heir's wing—the furniture and walls were all of light, thin materials that ushered in the light and made it seem like they were surrounded by white, cool sunlight. Lucius's boots were nearly silent as he paced across the floor away from her, and Molly admired his fluid way of movement. He suddenly whirled and strode back towards her faster, and his face was full of hurt and anger.
"You could love him? Given enough time, you would be happy with that Gryffindor?" he demanded, stopping just far enough away from Molly that she could not touch him without stepping closer, and that she could not do; her courage had all failed her.
"You would give up our life long friendship, everything we have shared, to be with him just because both your parents signed a contract when you were prepubescent? Molly, we've studied together, slipped out of Hogsmeade weekends to visit Diagon Alley together, we slept together, we had a terrifyingly happy week of 'oh Merlin, is Molly pregnant?' in sixth year together." Lucius suddenly stepped forward and seized her hand.
"You said you loved me." his face was suddenly forlorn and inside, Molly died a little. She drew her hand out of his and turned his arm over, pushing up his sleeve and to show a livid, dark tattoo on the inside of his right arm. She traced the outline of it with her finger, shocked as always at how unnatural it looked, malevolent and dark. She glanced up at the lines of his face, almost girlishly delicate, and inwardly she cried. Molly drew her wand and made a slow circle over Lucius's Mark, whispering "Revuscus." under her breath. Immediately a series of Runes appeared in the air over his mark as though someone was writing them. They rotated slowly and steadily with the movement of Molly's wand.
A sharp breath caught in her throat as she read the circling runes. Lucius's face was stone. He knew what the Runes read, and hopelessness began to creep across his countenance as she studied the inner workings of his Mark.
"Ashtem. Rethli. Argoont." Molly read off the names of the three least dark Runes and tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. She allowed the spell disintegrate and slipped her wand back into her pocket.
"Runes of torture, rape, murder, ruthlessness. Lucius, you're not yourself since you took the Mark. You're more ruthless, hard, and cruel. I realized that I could love Arthur Weasley after I realized that I will always be in love with Lucius Malfoy." Lucius, looking exceedingly puzzled and vaguely angry tried to speak, but Molly continued, pushing her words over his.
"But the Lucius Malfoy I know is dead." Lucius reeled back as though physically wounded by her words, and his fair complexion blanched to a corpselike paleness. Molly felt tears running down her cheeks as she choked out her last few words.
"I will be married in a month after I finish my N.E.W.T.S. If you have found a way to remove your Mark by then and are willing to flee with me to another country to live together, I will go with you." she told him, and he started shaking his head in terror.
"I cannot. The Dark Lord would still find me and kill me." Molly turned away from his, tears now pouring down her face in earnest.
"Goodbye, Lucius." she forced out and then whirled in a circle and Apparated away on the spot.
Lucius began swearing viciously and in earnest, flinging the chair he had been sitting on across the room and into a wall. Reinforced by magic to be impermeable to most accidents, the chair remained unharmed, but Lucius found the action to be cathartic. He stormed into his bedroom and started flinging curses at everything that reminded him of Molly.
"Relus Arscen!" the bedcurtains that Molly had loved to sit behind and tease him through their transluscent layers shredded and fell to the floor, the wood railings they had been hanging from showing deep slices through them.
"Illumescin!" Fire began licking up the sides of his tall mirror where he and Molly had undressed one another, admiring one another's' bodies from two different angles. The glass slowly dripped and melted and the frame turned black and sooty.
It was not enough, his anguish was not assuaged by the damage he was wreaking on his belongings. Lucius fell to his knees on the floor and keened silently, face twisted as he held back tears and sobs. Such behavior was not suited to the Noble House of Malfoy. Miles away, Molly was sitting by the lake outside Hogwarts with her face buried in her hands, crying as though she could never be comforted.
"Molly Prewett, you are going to get that dress dirty, and then where will we be?" Molly's eyes never wavered from where they were fixed on the silhouette of a lone willow tree far in the distance. She wiped suddenly at her eyes and turned around, light laughter spilling out of her lips, but with an infinitely sad look in her eyes.
"We'd scourgify it clean and the wedding would go on as planned!" she answered, but at a stern look shot at her by her mother, she sighed and brushed at a wrinkle in her white skirt ineffectually. With another glance at the far-off tree, she stepped off the boulder that had lent her a few inches to her vantage point and seemed to withdraw within herself. Even the wind, which had been setting her strawberry curls to dancing flirtatiously around her face seemed to bend around her, leaving her as a solid fixture among the tossing, long grasses and herbaceous growth that came up to her knees. Her mother sighed and patted Molly on the shoulder. Molly noted abstractly that her mother had to reach up to do so; it seemed odd, being taller than her mother, who in her memories always loomed over her in personality, if not stature.
"Arthur is waiting for you." Melanie Prewett said with a meaningful look at her pensive daughter who did not respond.
"Lucius, what are you doing here? My parents don't like you and we're in full view of the house." Lucius laughed and reached down from where he was lounging on the lowest branch of the willow tree and touched Molly's upstretched hand.
"If we're in the tree, they won't see us." Molly shivered at the timbre of his voice and an involuntary smile crept across her lips. She blinked the wind-induced tears out of the corner of her eyes and met Lucius's grey, laughing ones.
"I have good news for you." She told him, smiling a little more, now, recalling how Madame Pomfrey had called her into the infirmary just after Lucius had left for home early, but before the Hogwarts Express had been scheduled to leave, and the news she had given was blessed. Lucius suddenly looked a little worried.
"Good news?" he asked cautiously his mind immediately springing to their scare, and not sure if Molly's definition of 'good news' was the same as his. Molly climbed up beside him in the tree and settled herself against the trunk.
"I'm not pregnant." Lucius let out a huge breath that he hadn't been aware that he had been holding. "Anymore." Molly added, then as a most peculiar look crossed Lucius's face she quickly amended. "Joking!" and burst out laughing. The corner of Lucius's mouth quirked just for a moment, then he was solemn again.
"Not funny, Molly." He complained. "My father would have murdered me and adopted my cousin Regulus to be the heir. Molly touched the side of his face lightly and stretched up to kiss him briefly. Lucius drew away first, a faint smile touching his face.
"I have a feeling that you and I won't be studying for our N.E.W.T.S. as much as we ought to when the school year starts." Molly sighed and wrinkled her nose.
"Actually, I'm supposed to be meeting my summer tutor right now. Mum and Dad really want me to get top scores in everything, so they can have bragging rights among their friends." she wrinkled her nose. "Not that I'll ever use my good grades for anything. I'm clearly destined to be a housewife." she said bitterly.
"Molly. Mary Jeanine Prewett!" Molly gave a little start at the last exclamation and furrowed her brow.
"I heard the first time." she complained, then reflected pensively "He never does anything else." Melanie chose to read the more comfortable inflection from the statement.
"Aye, with you gallivanting off to stare into the horizon every hour he'd have to wait for you or abandon his bride." Molly's eyes slanted towards her mother resentfully for a scant moment, then she peered off into the distance once more.
"I'd thought…but that is impossible." she said sternly, clearly speaking to herself. Melanie sighed heavily then touched her daughter's arm and spoke far more softly than she was wont.
"You are marrying Arthur Weasley today, Molly." Molly turned to her mother with a huge grin plastered across her face, the wind picking up and playing with her curls merrily once more.
"Why, of course, Mother!" she exclaimed, and a cold shiver ran down Melanie Prewett's spine. The girl was so cheerful, yet there was something off about her words, a sense of wrongness. She was a puppet for some performer's idea of how a bride would behave on her wedding day, not the normal Molly Prewett.
"This is the day of which I have known about and dreamed of since I was six, mother dear! I shall be quite, quite sensible now and hurry into the house to complete my ablutions before the ceremony, shall I? Yes, I'll nip right off and cease this daydreaming about my groom right at this moment." Molly turned and rushed past Melanie with an absurd clumsiness—tripping twice—in a way that Melanie could not recall ever seeing in her daughter before that day.
Melanie would soon forget her uneasiness on her only daughter's wedding day: how the girl was unusually silent for most of the weeks preceding her wedding, gazing off at the willow tree across the valley, lying perfectly still on the sofa for hours in the early morning, eyes open but unseeing. But she would never forget the sight of her daughter's expression as she faced her groom at the opposite end of the aisle from her. It was not the look of a bride, it was the look of a condemned prisoner facing the Dementor assigned to Kiss them.
"If you mean to come for me, send me a signal and I will meet you in the willow tree." Molly had sent the note off with her parents' owl the week before, but there had been no reply. Sitting in her bedroom twenty minutes before the ceremony was to start, her Maid of Honor—a fifth year named Alice—had come running up the stairs with a huge armful of roses.
"Molly, these flowers just arrived for you, and they're arranged like a bride's bouquet, but don't you already have one?" Molly had stood, dropping her bouquet of lilies on the bed and stretched out her arms to receive the bouquet of red and white. A name ran through her head.
Lucius. She knew it was his farewell. At the last Hogwarts dance he had brought her a corsage of a white rose, and she had brought him a boutonnière of a red one. At the end of the evening, he had pulled an entire bouquet of red and white roses out of the sleeve of his robes and presented them to her.
"A trick I saw a muggle do once, and replicated with a bit of a clever Charm." He had told her in response to her delighted queries.
Trying not to let Alice see what she was doing, Molly looked among the roses for a note, a letter, a communication of some kind. In a few moments she ascertained that there was a tag hidden amid the roses, but her fingers sought it out immediately.
"Goodbye, Molly."741Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡihKc212g5r
She ran outdoors with the bouquet and climbed the hill overlooking the small valley, and the willow tree on the other side. Her face was calm, but inwardly she raged and wept at the injustice of the world, trapping her Lucius at the side of Voldemort, and making her too proud to return to him without his leaving his Master.
"Do you, Mary Jeanine Prewett take Arthur Selenius Weasley to be your wedded husband?" Molly blinked in astonishment out of her reminiscence and into the unhappy present. She noted absently that her hands were both being held by Arthur and she trailed her eyes up from their joined hands to meet his worried, loving eyes. She swallowed hard.
"I do."
Molly smiled down at her three small boys in bed with her. Bill and Charlie, only a year apart at five and four years old were looking solemnly at the small bundle of baby in her arms.
"What we gon name him, Mama?" Bill asked blinking his light eyes up at her. A memory rolled across her, powerful in its intensity.
"Draco? Why would you name a baby boy Draco?" Lucius looked vaguely affronted.
"It's a family name. According to the Malfoy Bylaws, all baby names must either come from an approved list, or be of sufficient gravity to be worthy of a Malfoy." Molly leaned back on the sofa and just let herself admire the clean lines that Lucius made in the room, all angles and corners, severe, but when he smiled, and held her, they fit together so comfortably. She cleared her throat.
"Is Draco on the approved names list?" she asked curiously. Lucius smirked.
"Actually, it is not, and mainly because until a few hundred years ago, it was a Dumbledore family name, quite traditional in fact. At least one child per generation was named Draco." Molly's jaw nearly dropped.
"Draco Dumbledore. That just sounds…wrong. Even Bathilda Bagshot has a ring to it, but Draco Dumbledore? No, that produces absolutely no vibrations." Lucius shrugged his thin, silk clad shoulders and sat down on the sofa next to Molly's feet.
"Nevertheless, a Malfoy couldn't name their child Draco when the Dumbledores were still doing it, but now they're not—they've been on an "A" kick for their sons' names for a bit now—and I've always been fond of the name.
"Draco Malfoy." Molly said musingly. "It rather does sound fine."
Molly cleared her throat and cast about for the least dignified, least Old Family-Latin-Based name she could think of.
"Well I'm rather fond of Percy, but why don't we ask Daddy when he gets home?" she smiled benignly at her small brood and touched the new infant's turned up nose.
"He rather looks like a Percy."
"Purse!" Charlie murmured and snuggled closer to his mother's side.
Molly ran staggeringly down Diagon Alley and ducked into the first open door she saw, gasping for breath and favoring her bloody right knee. She blanched as she realized that she had run from a group of Death Eaters only to walk directly into a pub that had three Death Eaters in full regalia stepping out of a back room and into the main area where she was standing. One of the figures had their wand in their hand instantly, and Molly held hers out waveringly to counter any possible hex or curse that could come. The foremost figure batted their companion's wand down.
"Oh, do think a moment, Crabbe." The man said irritably. "This woman's a pureblood, married to a pureblood, with three pureblooded children." Molly recognized the voice instantly. She would know it anywhere.
"Five, actually." She said quietly. "I've had twin boys recently." Lucius took a half step forward, then turn back to face his companions.
"You see? She is someone that is for us, even if she has had a spot of bad luck today." He said, turning back and motioning at her bleeding knee. Molly swayed suddenly with fatigue and spots appeared floating in front of her eyes. Lucius darted forward and caught her with unerring accuracy and Molly was reminded of his absurd grace he had always employed when dueling in DADA. She tried to wave him off.
"I will be fine; just need to head home." Lucius motioned at his companions to leave, then sat in a chair next to Molly, removing his mask and quietly casting a Notice-Me-Not spell around them.
"It's been awhile, Molly." he said quietly, removing his mask and tucking it into his pocket. "Congratulations on the twins." Molly smiled sadly and looked down in her lap where her hands were fiddling nervously with her robes. Lucius tipped her chin back with one hand and gazed into her eyes.
"May I escort you home? I must be sure that you are safe." Molly's eyes hardened.
"I would be safer if you and the others would cease your attacks on everyone." she said emotionlessly. Lucius drew back, his own face completely blank, then he leaned forward again. Molly's breath caught and her hands started shaking slightly. She reached out and laid a hand along his cheek.
"Oh, it's been so long." she barely whispered the words, then carefully touched her lips to his for a fleeting second before drawing back and standing abruptly.
"I have to go." she threw over her shoulder and began to walk out the door.
"Do you love him yet?" Molly stopped and looked at him, agonized eyes meeting desperate ones. She shook her head slowly.
"I could. I still could. But I still love…" her words trailed off as she looked outside to see a curious streak of green flashing towards her out of a Death Eater's wand. Lucius saw it at the same time and crossed the distance between himself and her in a second. He wrapped his arm around her waist and Molly felt herself being dragged between points on the map as Lucius Apparated both of them away.
Molly staggered away from Lucius, an muggle expletive escaping her lips quietly.
"Shit, was that the Killing Curse?" Lucius's face was entirely bloodless, whether from shock or rage, Molly couldn't tell. Molly looked around, clearly shaken.
"Is this Malfoy Manor?" she asked, disoriented by the quick escape. Lucius nodded and reached out for her hand. Molly let him take it and lead her down a dark corridor.
"This is the Lord and Lady's wing of the Manor. Narcissa and I've moved down here since my father died. Molly let a breath jerkily and tried to ease the knot of tension in her abdomen.
"Yes, I heard that you were married after Narcissa graduated last year." Lucius suddenly turned around and kissed her; Molly felt like they had never been parted and that the past six years were a nightmare, a bad dream, that Voldemort had never come into existence, and she and Lucius were once again sneaking around the Manor, kissing in out of the way corners. She melted into Lucius and once again felt as though she and he fit together perfectly, if a bit differently than usual. Her body had changed after five children, and while magic could ease the transition, she still had stretch marks, widened hips, and fuller breasts. Lucius, too, had changed. He was taller, more muscular, and his outline of all corners and sharp edges had eased somewhat, although he was mostly still and angular figure. She pulled back from him, her children and Arthur's sad, loving face came into her mind.
"I have children, you have a wife and Arthur loves me, even if I do not love him." she said desperately. Lucius let go of her and stepped away with a suddenness that nearly made her fall.
"Shall we stop?" he asked, his face inscrutable. "You can Apparate home right now if you wish. You are living in the Burrow, yes? There is a floo around the corner." Molly stood very still for a moment before she crossed the short distance to Lucius and deliberately slid her hands inside his robes, tracing the lines of his collarbone and neck.
"I have a few minutes till I need to be home." she said, hating herself for wanting to stay, and hating herself for needing to go at the same time. I am a despicable human being. She thought to herself, and followed Lucius into the master bedroom.
Molly lay on her side, curled up in a tiny ball around her newest son, bitterly disappointed about his gender, and hating herself for being disappointed. A baby girl with my nose and Lucius's eyes, and I could pretend every time I looked into them that he and I would dote on her together, and feel guilt wracked every time Arthur joked that he couldn't find himself in her at all. She thought, looking down at the quietly sleeping newest Weasley. She memorized his face carefully and was relieved to note that he resembled her family most strongly, and was even more relieved that he did not appear to have any of the legendary Malfoy looks at all.
Her eyes heavy with fatigue, Molly was just drifting to sleep when she heard a familiar voice passing her room.
"For heavens sakes, Lucius, I'm in labor, not dying: you don't need to carry me!" Lucius's voice, determined and smooth carried more readily than his wife's high pitched tones.
"Six miscarriages and you expect me be relaxed? Narcissa, I'll carry you everywhere and you won't walk again until you're full term and a Healer says that it's safe for our child to be born." Molly didn't hear Narcissa's reply, but suddenly she was completely awake, and tired though she was, Molly did not sleep, but rather cried.
Why am I doing this to myself? she wondered, then: Why do I love him? suddenly, it was as though someone removed a Confundus from her.
I could love Arthur. she realized. Love potion. Rather illegal, but she only wanted one to love her own husband. Was it too much to ask? She had been rather good at Potions, once: she could made a simple Love Potion. A permanent one. Molly recalled a book she'd once seen in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library, and also in a certain shabby second hand book store she'd visited once in Knockturn Alley. She resolved to go back as soon as she was released from St Mungo's.
Molly stirred the heavily scented potion counter-clockwise a final time and lay the stirring stick down on a heavy cloth next to the cauldron.
"Mama, what are you cooking?" Bill was looking up at Molly with wide, innocent seven year old eyes and smiling. Molly swooped down and scooped him up in her arms with a slight twinge in her groin. She still wasn't quite healed from having Ron, and Bill was almost too heavy for her to carry easily now.
"Mama's practicing some of her old school lessons!" she told him, tweaking his nose between her the fingers of her free hand. The scents from the cauldron drifted up to her. This was no Amortentia to allow wafts of corn bread, jasmine flowers, clean baby, and mint to drift up to her nose. This was an ancient recipe that she had found after several weeks of hunting through old bookstores with a tiny Ronald in a sling on her chest, and five other little boys toddling after her with wide eyes. It had taken her a relatively much shorter time to locate the ingredients for the potion; surprisingly, they were mainly basic, inexpensive things. The most difficult ones to find had been a vial of dragon tears and monksfoot petals. She hadn't even known the plant flowered, although clearly it did: once a year, on a full moon that coincided with a close proximity to Venus.
Molly allowed Bill to hold a vial of Unbreakable glass steady as she poured the cooled potion into the jar. She did not think that she was crying, but a single tear splashed onto Bill's hand as the last drops of the potion fell into the jar.
"What's wrong?" Bill blinked at Molly in confusion. She smiled and wiped the tear off his hand.
"All better, see? The fumes from the potion just made my eyes water." she lied and capped the vial before hugging him tightly. "Go get your pajamas on; your brothers are already asleep." Bill sighed and kissed Molly's cheek before trotting obediently upstairs. Molly slipped the vial into the pocket of her robes and cast Scourgify on her potion making tools before putting them away and slipping into her and Arthur's bedroom and changing into her favorite, warm pajamas. She sat down on the bed in them and held the vial in her hands, turning it over and over again. There were so many ways this could go wrong. She might have made the potion incorrectly, although she dismissed the concern rather quickly. She had always been rather good at Potions, and she knew that the final result matched what was described in the book. No, she admitted to herself. The real reason she was hesitant to take the potion wasn't because someone besides Arthur might come in and cause her to fall in love with them instead, it was because she didn't want to stop loving Lucius.
Molly gritted her teeth, put the vial on her nightstand and walked upstairs to the boys' rooms casting light sleeping spells on each little form before kissing their foreheads and returning downstairs.
Arthur was not home yet, but it was still relatively early; only eight in the evening. These days he was often out till then or later before coming home, having already eaten. She knew why, too. He sensed her emotional distance from him and despite loving his children and wife a great deal, he was uncomfortable around Molly's quiet sadness which was increased exponentially since Ron's birth. Thankfully, he seemed to believe it was a normal thing; that women sometimes grew depressed and morose after a child's birth.
Molly stood, white knuckled in front of her bathroom mirror, casting cleaning and whitening spells on her teeth, and a few cosmetic spells on her face.
"Molly, you're so beautiful." Lucius touched her pale cheek almost reverently. "You look like an ancient warrior maiden of the Celts with your fiery hair and strong hands." Molly smiled and lay her head on his shoulder.
"Dearie, you look tired." the mirror observed and Molly jumped slightly, then flushed, ignoring the mirror's makeup advice. She wandered back into her bedroom, extinguishing the bathroom lights and turned the vial of potion over and over in her hands.
"Are you sure?" Lucius was white knuckled and more pale than usual. His face was afraid, but also strangely exultant.
"No, I'm not sure." Molly responded, a bit irritated and very afraid herself. "I sincerely hope I'm wrong. We're only sixth years, not ready to be parents at all!" Lucius looked annoyingly superior—and beautiful—in the pale light reflected down through the window of the secret room they'd found that only opened on Wednesdays at six thirty pm. They had a different secret room for every night of the week they wished to meet. Hogwarts had hundreds of such rooms, but most people had no inclination or aptitude for finding them.
"Whatever Madame Pomfrey says the results are when she can do the test, I'll be happy for us." Lucius told her with sincerity in his voice. Molly looked surprised. "You see, I would love to have a child with you, so I will be happy if that is the news. Alternately, I know that it is not convenient now for that to happen so I will also be glad if the results are negative." Molly relaxed into Lucius's side and buried her face in his shoulder.
"Thank you." she murmured. "Still; I wonder why the contraceptive potion might have not worked." She felt Lucius shrug.
"For some people the standard one just doesn't work well. We might need to switch to a more specialized potion. They're more expensive, but I can afford it easily." he said magnanimously and kissed the top of her head.
Molly opened the vial and let the smell of it waft up to her nose. It had a relaxing scent, almost like sandalwood and vanilla.
Lucius buried his face in her hair.
"Mm, you always smell so nice." Molly smiled and ran her fingers across Lucius's firm stomach.
"I'd say the same for you, but well.." she laughed lightly at Lucius's affronted face as he drew back from her. He chuckled himself, lightly and kissed her gently.
"I always smell nice." he said, drawing back again. "My father taught me the appropriate grooming cantrips when I was six." Molly took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled noisily, laughing again.
"You always do smell fresh, but impersonal." she concluded. "Like a freshly Scourgified office building. Perfectly acceptable but no sense of personability." Lucius looked thoughtful.
"Ought I develop my own trademark smell?" he inquired seriously. Molly leaned in and took another deep breath before smiling rather shyly at him.
"I always like the way we smell together after sex." she told him, and he looked pleased, leaning over her to kiss her forehead.
Molly tipped her head back, raised the vial to her lips, and mentally steeled herself by counting to ten and emptied the vial into her mouth before she could change her mind. She barely managed to swallow all of it, having underestimated the amount of liquid in the dose and spluttered ungracefully as she recorked the vial and put it into a drawer. She felt herself growing quite sleepy, an almost visible veil of weariness being drawn across her vision. She vaguely recalled that the potion was supposed to make the drinker fall asleep until another person entered the room, they would then supposedly wake up and would fall irrevocably in love with the first person they laid eyes on.
"I love you, Molly."
A tear slid out of the corner of her eye as darkness overtook her mind. Molly was asleep before her body was completely stretched out on the bed, and she did not dream.
A rustle in the room brought Molly back to full consciousness in the space of a half a second. She bolted upright, strangely exhilarated and cast her eyes about.
"One day I will be the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and I will make it a law that no woman is permitted to claim to be more beautiful than you." Lucius made the pronouncement quite seriously and looked very offended when Molly laughed at him.
"How silly can you be?" she asked rhetorically, then sobered and kissed him.
"You're a dear to say so, but by the time you're Chief Warlock we'll both be over a hundred and by then every lady will be more beautiful than aged, wrinkled me." Lucius's lips quirked slightly and he took her hand between his and tugged her down the corridor towards their next class.
"To me, you will always be the fairest in the land." he vowed, and Molly laughed again with delight.
"Arthur." a dark form stood up out of the corner and hopped in a little circle grunting. A shoe flew out of his silhouette and he straightened, bring his face into the candlelight. Molly's breath caught as a wave of emotion hit her with a palpable wave and she was momentarily paralyzed by the depth of emotion she now held for this man, her husband of nearly eight years. He looked at her warily, taking in her tousled hair, red lips and sweet, shy smile. He blinked in confusion, starting towards his suddenly lovely wife who had been haggard and drawn for so long he'd nearly forgotten about the slim, graceful sprite he had wed.
"Is this my Molly?" he asked, and Molly felt the strangest tug within herself in two directions and she realized that while she now loved Arthur, Lucius was still a presence within herself. Arthur was now standing in front of her, reaching out with a tentative hand to touch her hair, and for the first time in their relationship, she sighed and leaned into his hand. She swallowed and looked up into his hopeful, tired, sad eyes.
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime." Lucius sang a snatch of song as he pulled a bunch of violets out of his sleeve and tucked them into Molly's hair. Molly made a small noise of complaint and stepped away.
"Purple doesn't go well with my hair color, and was that a muggle song you're singing?" Lucius pulled her back into his embrace and arranged the violets more carefully in the braid circling her head.
"Every color looks good on you, love, except perhaps a clashing shade of red," he mused, "And even Muggles can write a decent song once in awhile." he tipped her chin back and kissed her lightly, as he always did, waiting for her to respond and deepen the kiss before he would go farther.
"Arthur….I love you." His head snapped back and he gazed at her in abject shock and joy. She had never once before said those words to him. He had heard her croon the words to each of their children, heard her say it in her sleep to Lucius, heard her cry and beg for her love to come take her before she was to wed as she slept, heard her tell her brother, mother, father, and best friends the words, and had patiently waited, never expecting her to reciprocate when he would murmur that she was his love, but always hoping. Hoped that with the next child she would realize she loved him. Hope that if he could get a promotion and be able to afford the contraceptive potions that worked for her she would come to him of her own accord. Hoped and wished until he could not any longer, and now she loved him?
Arthur ran trembling fingers along her cheek and tipped her chin up to kiss her reverently. Molly closed her eyes, her body reveling in the touch of the one to whom her heart would now belong forever, but she felt tears streaming down her face as though they would never stop.
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