Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor

Arthur Weasley hurried down the hall frantically. He didn't want to be caught out of bed after hours, especially after he had just been dumped. He didn't quite know how to feel. Of course he hadn't wanted to be dumped. What guy ever does? And they had only been boyfriend and girlfriend since fifth period Charms class. He hadn't liked Laura Kinney all that much to begin with. Sure she was cute, but one he had hung out with her for two hours, he realized she was extremely vain and only cared about girlish things like clothes and popularity. He wasn't quite sure why he had agreed to go out with her in the first place, though he suspected being the only Gryffindor fourth year without a girlfriend had something to do with it. Now he had just been dumped, and it wasn't a feeling he necessarily wanted to experience ever again.

He scampered down the hall quickly and quietly so that no one would hear him. He was extra cautious not to wake the portraits that lined the corridors: they were prone to anger quickly if woken, especially at three in the morning.

That was another thing Arthur didn't understand. Why had Laura needed to break up with him at three in the morning? To avoid embarrassment sure, but Hogwarts was so big that they could have found somewhere quiet to go in the afternoon when Arthur was actually awake. He hadn't really been that bad of a boyfriend had he?

He jumped at every sound on his way back to Gryffindor Tower. One could never be too cautious when sneaking around a large castle at night, and he really didn't need another detention. If a knight reached up to scratch its nose, Arthur would jump behind a tapestry or a statue and hide. He knew he was being extremely careful, but the last detention he had gotten resulted in Filch hanging him by his knickers from an unlit torch for a whole hour before Dumbledore found them and let Arthur go.

He turned the corner in front of the entrance hall to see Peeves, the school's poltergeist, suspending a bucket of what looked like chocolate syrup above the grand staircase. The last thing Arthur wanted was for Peeves to know he was out at night. Peeves couldn't resist being obnoxiously loud when students were out of bed too late. He didn't want to embarrass himself any more that night.

Instead, he stood frozen at the end of the hall, hardly daring to move for fear of catching Peeves's attention. Arthur waited for what seemed like hours—at the most five minutes—while Peeves went about his business. From the way he was situated, he began to get a Charlie horse in his leg, but he didn't dare move an inch for fear of being caught.

It came from behind him so quickly that he thought he was going to die. Suddenly there was a hand on his mouth and one around his waist, and they were holding on so tightly that he couldn't have escaped even if he tried. He opened his eyes wide when the person, he assumed it was a person, dragged him to the middle of the entrance hall.

He couldn't have predicted anything more accurately. Peeves saw them immediately and came swooping silently toward them. The person let go of her death grip on him, and he took a moment to regain his balance.

"Students out of their beds?" Peeves cackled.

"Shut up, Peeves! It's only me!" A familiar voice scolded. The figure, dressed in all black, lowered her hood and Arthur saw a mane of red hair escape from it. It was Molly Prewett.

"Oh…hi, Molly," Peeves said getting quieter. He swooped down to the ground and sat down on the nearest gargoyle. Arthur wondered what was happening. He wondered why Molly Weasley was dressed in all black and why she was holding him hostage. And he also wondered why Peeves wasn't making her life miserable like he did to all the other students at Hogwarts.

"What's—" Arthur began.

"I'll explain later," said Molly. She turned her attention back to Peeves who was still atop the gargoyle, looking very interested in what she had to say. "Let's just say John Fowler won't be brushing his teeth with toothpaste tomorrow. He might even find that his toothbrush can't be removed from his face without some serious magical aid."

Peeves cackled his evil prankster laugh. "Nice one, Molly. He totally deserved it. What exactly did he do to you again? Doesn't matter I guess, just as long as the ickle-studykins are a-sufferin'." Peeves swooped around the top of the entrance hall's chandelier once and whooshed out of sight.

"Come with me," Molly said quietly, leading him to the grand doorway that took them to the grounds of Hogwarts. Despite its size it was surprisingly light and agile. She pulled it open and Arthur followed her out, wondering what the Gryffindor, who was only a year older than him, had in mind.

They walked across the pitch-black grounds, Molly a little farther ahead than Arthur.

"So what do you want to know?" Molly asked. She was walking fairly quickly, and Arthur was forced to almost jog to keep up with her.

"Er," Arthur began. He was so confused that he didn't know what exactly he wanted to know.

"I see," Molly said. She launched into an explanation that Arthur had to pay close attention to understand. "Okay, well, Peeves likes me because I sometimes help him play pranks on first years. Tonight I was putting permanent sticking gel in my ex-boyfriend-of-one-day-stupid-John-Fowler's toothpaste container. I was just finishing up when I ran in to your petrified little body in the middle of the entrance hall corridor, and I thought it'd be fun to rescue a 'damsel in distress' or whatever. And I know you from somewhere, don't I? You're a Gryffindor. You're a year behind me."

Arthur was still processing what she had said before he finally replied with, "Wait, did you just call me a damsel? Isn't that a girl?"

Molly laughed. "You're kind of cute when you only just now realize that I called you a girl."

Arthur made a face at her that would never be seen in the darkness. Her comment was just a little bit condescending. Although he could make out that they were walking along the edge of the Black Lake toward the Forbidden Forest.

A minute later Molly stopped dead in her tracks. Arthur nearly fell over trying to avoid running into her. She turned to face him even though they couldn't see anything in the pitch-black night.

"Was that rude of me?" She asked. She looked sad. Arthur didn't know what to say. He suddenly felt very nervous, and it wasn't just because he didn't know what was going to happen next. "Ugh! It was!" she exclaimed like she was reprimanding herself for something. "I tend to do that. I'm so stupid!"

"What?" Arthur asked, feeling daring. "What are you talking about? You're not stupid."

"That's why Fowler broke up with me," Molly said. She slumped down onto the ground at Arthur's feet. "He said I was rude to him."

"That's not true!" Arthur said. He sat down gingerly on the muddy banks of the Black Lake. His foot slipped and he slid, getting the back of his school robes completely soiled. "Want to know something?"

Molly stared blankly across the lake, which was even blacker in the nighttime. "What, Weasley?"

Arthur felt a warm glow shoot across his cheeks, and was thankful it was too dark to see anything. "Laura Kinney dumped me right before I ran into you."

"You were dating Kinney?" Molly asked. "I'm surprised! I would have thought someone as ho—you could do better than her you know."

"None of the other fourth year girls think so," Arthur said limply.

"Who said you have to date a fourth year?" Molly asked. He thought he felt her hand brush against his, but it was probably just an accident. "You know what. Kinney and Fowler could burn in a fire for all I care. We don't need them." She picked up a rock on the shore and tossed it with a fulfilling thud into the lake. "Burn in hell John Fowler."

Arthur felt along the ground until he found a rock of his own. Tossing into the lake he said in verbatim, "Burn in hell Laura Kinney…you know, I don't really feel like getting dumped ever again, Molly Prewett."

"I don't really feel like getting dumped either, Arthur Weasley."

Arthur sat next to her for a few minutes in the darkness. Was this the moment he was supposed to kiss her? Or the moment that the werewolf comes out from behind the trees and kills them both? He felt Molly's hand wind its way into hers, and this time it was definitely not an accident.

He saw the silhouette of her head and her curly red hair turning toward him slowly. One of her hands reached out and touched his face, and the other stayed clasping his hand, which was feeling very hot and sweaty all of a sudden. Her face didn't just stop when it turned toward him; it kept coming. Arthur went slightly cross-eyed before he finally realized what was happening.

Molly Prewett kissed Arthur Weasley at exactly three forty-seven in the morning on third day of March in Arthur's fourth year. It was a nice kiss, he supposed. At least they could only get better and better.

"I really do think you're cute, Arthur," Molly said, lying down on the muddy ground. This time Arthur knew she was being completely truthful, not an ounce of condescending. It warmed his heart to hear that.

"I think you're cute too," he said. Then he yawned. He might have been in the presence of the most beautiful girl in Gryffindor, at Hogwarts, in the whole world, but even that couldn't stop him from feeling tired. He was only fourteen, and it was three in the morning.

Molly yawned too. Yawns were infectious like that.

Arthur lay down too. After a moment, he wondered if Molly was still awake. He didn't want to be the first one to get up and go to bed. He didn't know that Molly was lying there too, thinking exactly the same thing. They lay like that for hours, until finally they both drifted off to a happy sleep.

They were only awoken hours later in the rosy pink sunlight, when the gamekeeper, Mr. Plumburg, gave them a harsh yelling for being out of bed. Even though Arthur, covered in mud, was being yanked back to the castle behind Molly, he knew it was worth it. He was right. They were still together seven kids and a million memories later.


A collective "awww," was murmured from everyone sitting around the last few sparks of the fire.

Molly and Arthur looked modestly down at their laps, both concealing smiles.

"I didn't know you two were all un-parent-y before you had us," Bill said. "Does this mean we're going to turn into you guys when we have this baby?"

"Most likely," Molly said with a twinkle in her eye. "The number of kids you have directly correlates to the amount of wisdom you possess."

"It's why your mother and I are so smart," Arthur said with a twinkle in his eye.

"However having more kids does not make you any more mature," Molly said. "Which is why I'm letting you drink that Firewhiskey even though you know how bad it is for you. What were you thinking?"

Everyone looked a little bit guilty, and the empty bottle rolled out from under a chair on the opposite side of the fire.

"You know," Molly said, doing a charm to refill the bottle a bit. "You were clever to hide that bottle from me. Like I couldn't smell it on your breath."

She poured a small glass of the stuff and took a sip.

"Just so you know, Arthur and I could hear you from our bedroom. You guys aren't quiet," she continued. "Your first kiss was classy, Ron."

Ron looked embarrassedly at his feet. Molly had a knack for hitting just the right nerves in her children to make them feel guilty. It was a small guilty pleasure of hers.

"Well that was fun," Harry said, getting up from his chair and tripping slightly over it as he started to gather everything up. The fire was put out and everyone was a little slower than usual getting back to the house. Fleur finally made it to a standing position, and then she sort of waddled back to the kitchen door of the Burrow.

"You guys are all staying here tonight," Molly said when they all meandered back to the brightly lit kitchen. "I'd be a horrible mother if I let you drink and Floo."

"Yeah, yeah," everyone agreed, going to their respective bedrooms. The next morning they would wake up with ten of the biggest Firewhiskey hangovers ever, but for now they were content.

"We need to tell stories more often," Harry muttered to Ron at the top of the staircase next to Ginny's room.

"Yeah, I'd love to hear about everyone's second kisses," Ron said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder how Hermione can even stand you, mate," Harry said grinning.

"Me too," Ron said, continuing up the stairs. "Maybe I should…you know."

Harry raised his eyebrows, and Ron turned and paused midway up the stairs.

"Well, er, you know!" Ron said nervously. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Maybe I should, er…pop the question."

"You want to marry her?" Harry asked quietly, both intrigued and impressed.

"Yeah. Yes, I think I do," Ron said. "I think I want to marry Hermione Granger.

"Don't tell me, mate, tell Hermione," Harry said, nervous for Ron's sake.

"Okay, I will!" Ron said, starting to run up the stairs. Harry leapt after him and almost had to tackle him to stop him.

"Don't be a wanker! You can't ask her now!" Harry said to Ron.

"And why not?" Ron said crossing his arms.

"First, you're drunk. Second, it's one in the morning, and she's probably already asleep in Ginny's room. And third, you have to do it right—when you wake her up at one in the morning in your sister's bedroom and drunkenly ask her to marry you is not the right way to propose," Harry explained firmly.

"I suppose," said Ron wistfully. "But tomorrow, okay? Will you help me propose to Hermione tomorrow? I love her, and I want to roll over in my bed every night and see her as my wife. And—"

"Okay, Ron, you cheese-ball." Harry said sending his best mate up to bed. "You obviously can't handle alcohol all that well, and I don't want to hear you babble my ear off all night, so goodnight."

"Night, Harry," Ron said, sounding like a little kid telling his parents goodnight.

"Goodnight, Won-Won," Harry said, grinning and following him up the stairs to his room.


A/N: And our little story comes to a close. :( Now how do I put this without making it sound like I'm advertising—which I totally am—if you enjoyed this story, you may enjoy some of my other stories which can be found by clicking on my name at the top there. I hope you had a nice time reading this story. I've totally had it finished for a week, but my lack of an internet connection hindered me. (Excuses, excuses.) It has been nice getting to know you guys these past twelve chapters. We can listen to "So Very Hard To Go" and eat cookie dough in our pajamas if you want. I'm going to ask you one last time to please leave a review. It's the only way I'll know what you thought…Bye.


Ugh, sorry for all the errors with their names, guys. There are just too many to keep track of them all in my head. Thanks to SmartyPants1493 for pointing them out!


Sammie