"Molly, I'm sorry."
Tears were streaming down Mrs. Weasley's face as she sat gazing at the equally tear-streaked sky outside the bay window in their bedroom.
"Really, I'm very sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"Well, it's too late now, isn't it, Arthur?" Molly retorted incredulously. "You've already said it."
Arthur sighed, sitting down in the chair opposite her and running his hands through his sparse hair. "I love you, Molly," he said simply. Her eyes softened, but she still didn't look at him. "And I love our family." Her features suddenly regained their former edginess.
"Obviously you don't love all of us!"
Very quietly, he replied, "Percy is my son. I do love him. But he has made a decision to leave us, and he is of age."
"If you really loved him you would go after him!"
"Look, I don't want to get into this again. Please, Molly, there's nothing we can do now." He sighed again. "He's gone."
"If it hadn't been for you, he wouldn't be gone!"
"Molly, did you even hear what he said to us? He called us fools, he said he was ashamed of us- he insulted Albus!"
"Albus isn't God, you know. You don't have to defend his honor. He can do that for himself," she said icily. "And furthermore, Albus isn't your son."
"Well, neither is Percy, the way he sees it!" Arthur roared, losing his temper for the second time that evening.
"Do not raise your voice at me, Arthur Weasley," Molly whispered in her most deadly voice. They glared at each other for a few moments in fury.
"Fine," said Arthur, storming towards the door. "Just like your son- won't listen to reason-"
"Oh, Arthur..." cried Molly, her anger ebbing away as she rushed towards him, throwing her arms around him to prevent him from leaving. "I'm sorry."
Arthur looked down at her firey head, its crimson broken here and there by fine streaks of gray. She was so beautiful to him. She always had been. He bent down and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
"I just hate to see our family torn apart like this. We always said we would stick together... through everything..."
"We will." He lifted her chin so that she met his gaze. "You and I will always be together, Molly. Always." He closed his eyes and brought his lips down to hers.
Slowly starting to feel better, Molly allowed herself to get lost in the kiss, opening her mouth a fraction to dart her tongue into her husband's mouth. His tongue met hers, and they seemed to dance together as they tasted one another. It felt so familiar, so right. Sliding an arm around his waist, she placed her other hand on his cheek, stroking it lovingly. His hands moved downward to rest on her waist.
After a few moments, Molly pulled away slightly, looking up into his eyes dark with passion. "You know I love you, Arthur."
He smiled. "Yes. I know." He reached up to stroke the back of her head.
She stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Make love to me." Lowering herself a little, she placed a lingering kiss right below his ear. He shivered at hearing her say these words, the words she had said to him countless times before. He never tired of hearing them. They always gave him the same sommersault feeling in his lower abdomen, the same quick, almost imperceptible intake of breath.
Letting her continue her kissing, his right arm tightened around her and he drew his left hand around to travel slowly up her stomach, finally cupping her breast. She placed her hands on the collar of his robes, sliding them down to unbutton them as her lips journeyed upward to meet Arthurs once again. Momentarily he released her to let his robes fall off his shoulders, before cradling her to him once again and beginning to undo the fastenings of her dress. He was so practiced at it that it took him less than a minute before both of them were clad in nothing but their undergarments. Backing her toward the bed, he felt himself become aroused as she placed a hand on his thigh, teasing him. He let out a soft groan.
She sat down, her legs spread to allow him to kneel between them. Before finally lowering her so that she was lying on her back, Arthur reached behind her to unhook her bra, removing it and tossing it behing him onto the floor. He once again cupped a soft, heavy breast in his hand, running his thumb around her hardened nipple. She arched up to him, circling her hips to brush against his, and he had to steady himself a bit before continuing.
She reached up under the back of his undershirt, touching his warm bare skin, pulling him closer to her. Sliding a thigh between his, she pulled the shirt up over his head and experienced the magical feeling of his nearly naked body next to hers. And without warning, her husband lowered his head to her other breast and began to gently kiss it, his tongue drawing wet patterns on her sensitive skin, forcing her to moan rather loudly. Chuckling against her, he began to slide his hands up and down her shapely thighs, his fingers coming closer and closer to her core as he taunted her senses, making her breath ragged and every now and then drawing a whimper from her swollen lips...
He knew exactly what drove her past the point of sanity. Just when he sensed that she could stand this no longer, he lifted her hips to him and slid his hands inside her panties, removing them, rendering her completely naked, his own personal Venus. Then he allowed her to remove his boxers as well, quaking in ecstasy as her nimble fingers lightly ran over his erect manhood.
Within moments he was inside her, safely surrounded by her warmth. His mouth found hers once again; the two of them joined together completely, body and soul. Moving to the sound of the rain which was falling steadily outside, moved by the deep love which seeped from one to the other, encircling them, protecting them, no words were needed as they swiftly brought one another to climax, then Arthur collapsed beside her, still breathing heavily.
A little smile was playing across her lips when next he looked up at her. The corners of his own mouth turned up as well, seeing her mirth. "What is it, love?" he whispered, placing a hand on her bare abdomen and raising up on his elbow to get a clear view of her face.
Grinning wider, she replied, "You haven't lost your touch."
He cleared his throat pointedly. "Neither have you, Molly, dear." He lazily traced her belly button with his forefinger, feeling better than he had all evening. "Again?"
"No, Arthur," she said, with a sly tone and a smirk. "I've got to cook supper for the children."
And after giving him a peck on the cheek, she was up, getting dressed, and heading downstairs, back to her usual no-nonsense self. And that, strangely, made him feel even better.