Disclaimer: I don't own HP, and I never will. Sob, sob.
Author's Note: Sooo. I know what you all are thinking. Took me bloody well long enough, didn't it? Yeah.
But I know I shall be forgiven. 'Cause you guys rock like that.
And I couldn't find Molly's mum's name on the HP Lexicon. Hence I made one up.
I think you have the facts now. Read on!
In Which Molly is Nervous
"When will he be here?"
Fabian and Gideon shared a look of amusement.
"Calm down, Molls," Fabian chuckled, watching his older sister pace her bedroom floor. Molly was far from calm, however, and glared at her brother, and his twin for good measure.
"How do you expect me to be calm when I'm going on a date with my best friend?!" she shouted, running her fingers through her recently straightened hair nervously. Gideon grinned.
"Molly and Arthur, sitting in a tree . . ." he sang under his breath.
"K-I-S-S-I-N-G . . ." his brother joined in, less quietly.
"SHUT UP!" Molly yelled fretfully. "Ohhh . . . I knew this was a bad idea! I'm just going to send him a message telling him I've got a cold," she said, hurrying to her owl.
"Drop that owl!" Fabian cried.
"Be sensible Molly!"
"I haven't got time to be sensible!"
"Children!" a new voice yelled, "Stop it right this instant!" Molly and Fabian, still fighting over the owl (who was beginning to look nervous with all the pulling it was going through), stared guiltily at their mother. Sarah Prewitt was a sturdy woman, with ginger hair pulled back loosely with a clasp. Strands of grey fell into very dark, almost black eyes, the only remnant of her Black family heritage. She crossed her arms and looked menacingly at her teenagers.
"I love you, Mummy!" Gideon chirped, sitting away from the two bickering siblings.
"Shut up, Gideon," Molly said sharply.
"Molly, we don't say 'shut up'," her mother reminded her.
"Yeah, Molly, we don't say shut up," said Fabian smugly.
"You're such a prat!" Molly told him, as if he should know that by now.
"He's not the one trying to fake a cold," protested Gideon.
"Are you calling me a prat?"
"See, Gideon, you've gone and insulted her!"
"Oh, because you didn't?"
"Will the both of you shut up!"
"We don't say shut up."
"No saying the S word."
Mrs. Prewitt, who had been watching the exchange with some amusement, broke up the squabble.
"What's this about faking a cold?" she asked interestedly, and Molly turned a bright shade of red. Fabian and Gideon immediately launched into an explanation.
"We've set up her and-"
"-Arthur Weasley, wouldn't they be-"
"-perfect for each other, they're already-"
"-best friends and all, so-"
"-they could get married and have-"
"-little red-headed babies and-"
"Stop it!" Molly yelled, putting a hand over her eyes. "Merlin, you're giving me a head ache!" She cradled her head in her hands as she collapsed onto her bed. "This is going to go horribly wrong. So terribly, horridly wrong, I can feel it."
"Molly, dear, you sound as though you're predicting the apocalypse," her mother said sensibly, sitting down beside her moaning daughter. "While I admit it wasn't a particularly good idea to set up a date without informing you-" she broke off to glare at Fabian and Gideon, who looked properly abashed- "I'm sure you'll both have a wonderful time." Molly's only response was to bury her head in her pillow.
Her mother sighed and turned to her sons, who immediately gave her identical, cheery smiles. "You two," she began wearily, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Just ... just go."
"But Mum, Molly needs our male expertise!" Gideon cried. Molly gave a half-hearted sort of moan that made her opinion in the matter quite clear.
"Right, we'll be going now, " Fabian said quickly.
"This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening," Molly muttered over and over to herself. Sometimes she honestly hated her brothers. Setting up her and Arthur? How thick could you get! They were in no way attracted to each other, not in anything else but a best friends sort of way. Molly's stomach clenched at this thought but she ignored it.
Not true, her consecious whispered in her ear.
Is so! She argued internally with herself.
Please. Awful lot of denial for such a seemingly unimportant thing, huh?
Molly shook her head. I am simply, erm, stating the facts. You know, factual information and such.
It is true!
Go ahead and believe that, hon.
"Talking to yourself, Molls?" came Fabian's voice in her ear, and Molly jumped before flushing scarlet. She turned to glare at her brothers, who were standing behind her as she sat on the living room couch.
"No, I am not," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't see they boy's grin at each other behind her back.
"Right, well, moving past your obvious denial!" Gideon said cheerfully, and Molly made a small noise of discontent but remained quiet.
"Arthur's due here in five minutes, exactly," Fabian told her, extracting from his pocket an old, dented watch. Molly felt her breath become faster as she nervously smoothed down her hair and wrung her hands together. I should not be so excited, she chanted to herself. It's just Arthur. He's my best friend.
At that moment the doorbell rang loud and clear throughout the house, causing Molly to jump approximately six feet off the couch.
"He's here . . . he's here . . ." she muttered to herself, folding her arms nervously across her chest.
"Don't worry Molls, we got it!" Fabian told her in what he obviously thought was a reassuring voice, but it only caused his sister to glare fiercly at him. He shrugged and ran towards the door, his twin brother in tow. The flung it open with obvious delight. Though Molly was sitting at an angle that prevented her from seeing the young man standing in the doorway, she could hear his timid voice greeting her brother's.
"Arthur, come in, come in!" Gideon cried, thrusting his arm outwards. Molly gulped loudly before giving a small sigh, standing up, and turning to face her date.