A HariPo oneshot
Note: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. This pairing was discovered by me, so please gimme a little mention if you write them! Thanks! It is one of many of Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings, which you may find in Mor's and my forum, "Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings Fan Stories," found here (Just take out the spaces!): http : / forum. fanfiction. net/ forum /Mew_and_Mors_Weird_Pairings_Fan_Stories /76194 / Read, review, and enjoy! And check out and join the forum FUN!
For my pal, Lizzie, who's experienced a little too much pain lately. Hopefully this can help cheer you up, luv! :]
It was the match before the Easter break. Al was doing his best to stay right on top of things—so he made an awful Seeker, but being a Beater came naturally to him. Besides, his best mate, Scorpius, was a better Seeker anyway.
Their team, Slytherin, was down by seventy points to Hufflepuff. Al's cousins, Louis and Hugo, weren't on the team, but Al was really glad that his cousin and Louis' older sister, Dominique, wasn't playing today. Well, okay, it was kind of mean to be thankful that someone had a severe cold bad enough to keep them in the hospital wing…but still! If Dominique had been playing the Seeker position for her House, then Slytherin wouldn't have stood a chance.
Al stopped his musings for a second and whistled to Scorpius, who automatically ducked. They'd come up with a little system thanks to Al being able to whistle half decently. A high whistle was the sign to duck; it meant a Bludger was coming from the north. A low whistle meant a jump; that Bludger was coming from the south. High to low was from the east and meant tailspin. Low to high was from the west and meant a sharp swerve. These signals had not failed them yet, and Scorpius today also went unscathed as the Bludger came hurtling Al's way.
He drew his Beater's bat back like a sword and sliced the air with it, smacking the Bludger head on and sending it in the direction of a Hufflepuff Beater and Chaser. They were okay, but what mattered more was that Slytherin's Seeker was still conscious.
Al pulled himself up on his broom, quite proud of himself as Scor zipped off to another side of the field and one of their Chasers scored twice in a row. That was excellent—five more goals and they'd be tied with Hufflepuff! But the best thing at this point would be for Scorpius to find that damned Snitch, since they were close enough in points.
He watched Scorpius fly around and drew the conclusion that his friend had finally seen the little golden ball. While watching, Al smacked another Bludger out of his sight and hung out on his broom, quite feeling his job was done.
Scorpius was coming around the bend, and Al could've sworn that even he saw the Golden Snitch. But then Scorpius did something incredibly stupid—and stopped! What the hell? They'd been so close! The Snitch had been right there! Guaranteed, the Hufflepuff replacement Seeker hadn't spotted it, but what was Scorpius thinking? And why was he trying to whistle like Al did—
Al didn't catch on in time that Scor was desperately telling him to swerve. A Bludger came seemingly from nowhere and—CRUNCH!—nailed him in his left knee. The pain was so immense that Al saw white spots in his field of vision—it didn't register for a second that his knee had damn near been obliterated, and the bones on either end of his kneecap likely had been fractured.
But then the pain washed over him and through him…and Al felt he was going to be sick.
His body slackened and he slipped off his broom, only to be caught by Scorpius and Madam Spinnet. Al could hear voices around him, but words just weren't making sense, not through this blinding pain…
Al later awoke in the hospital wing. Pain still radiated from his shattered patella, but he ached all over. He pushed his messy black hair out of his eyes and rubbed his green eyes, looking for Madam Pomfrey. He didn't see her, but he did hear voices.
"…crap! Will he be all right?"
"Your cousin will be fine, Miss Weasley. There's no need for expletives in the slightest."
"Of course. I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey."
There was a pause. "It's quite all right, Miss Weasley." Another pause. "He's over there, in the bed beside the corner cot."
Al struggled to sit up. Had Dominique healed enough that she could see others now? He was all prepared to see her mane of platinum blonde hair appear around his partition when he saw dark ringlets instead. His face burned bright red.
"Oh, Godric, Al…," Molly said when she saw him. She stopped at the foot of his cot and stared at his left leg, which was all wrapped up in a dragon-hide-hard cast. She briefly lifted her brown eyes to his face only to let them fall to his leg again. "Oh, sweet Godric…"
"Molly," Al choked. He felt his blush extending from his face to his neck and ears—the one bad thing about being half-Weasley. He just couldn't believe she was here. While she wasn't his favorite cousin—in a way—she was the person to whom Al was closest within his family. She had a good head on her shoulders and always knew what to do in any situation. It was why she was already doing fieldwork in the Obliviator Office despite being barely twenty years old. She also made the most sense (if that made sense) to Al as a person, and he rather liked her. A lot. As in, a lot. He'd grown up close to her and tried to stay close even though her job made it hard. But he also knew they would never be as close as he would've liked to be.
Because that was just wrong. And Molly would never consider it or feel that way. Because Molly made sense.
"…Molly," he choked again. Go figure that all he'd thought about her came crashing into his brain the moment he saw her. When had he seen her last, anyway? Christmas? Before his seventh year had begun? At the end of his sixth year?
"Oh, Al," she whispered as she took a couple of quick steps and gently hugged him. "I rushed over as soon as I heard what happened."
"What d'you mean?"
She put him at arms' length and brushed his black fringe out of his face again, her slender fingers resting on the side of his cheek. "Al, you've been out for a full day."
He gaped at her, all his "stupid" ponderings pushed aside for the moment. "I've what?"
Molly nodded. "Lily and the others have visited between classes, and James even skipped out on Ollivander to see you himself yesterday. Dad told me that Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry stayed with you for most of yesterday until Madam Pomfrey told them for the umpteenth time that you'd only fainted from the shock."
He continued to stare at her dumbly. "I've—what?"
"Shh, shh… It's your knee, Al."
"Funny, I can feel that much."
"The Bludger sort of…compacted it into your other bones…and the skin split open, letting some bones fall out on the field…they couldn't find them…" She cringed as she described it, and Al thought she looked a little like the green sweater he was wearing, a silver "A" emblazoned on his chest (courtesy Grandmam Weasley, of course).
"You look worse than me," he joked, his pain receding as humor walked into his being. "Hey, I'm—I'm okay, Mols."
Her brow knit together in concern and he nodded to reassure her. "If—if you say so…"
"I say so…so thanks for checking up on me." Al let a silent minute pass. "Aren't you…supposed to be at work?"
A healthy, rosy color banished the sickly green from her cheeks. "Well, yes, but—well, I couldn't just brush off the news about your lying unconscious in the hospital wing—"
"Hey, you know I'm plenty sturdy. You should've come instead of risking your job—"
"I didn't risk my job," she interrupted with a small glare. "I…was, er…on my way out when I heard."
Al blinked. "Oh." He watched her brown eyes drop behind her glasses. "…oh. You had plans with Corner. Sorry about that."
"It's fine. Michael can wait," Molly said hurriedly. Then she must've realized how that sounded. "I mean…oh, bugger."
He raised his eyebrows. "Two expletives in one night, Miss Weasley? How scandalous."
The tiny joke was enough to ease them and Molly giggled lightly. "I didn't know you'd heard that…"
"I almost didn't, but I woke up at the right time," Al corrected, trying to sit up more in the cot. He winced as the pain rushed back to the forefront of his mind. "Or maybe it was this that was intent on waking me."
"Hey, take it easy, Al," Molly sternly told him. She grabbed another pillow from the neighboring cot and sat him up, placing the pillow behind him. She gently reclined him against the cushion and smoothed his sweater over his chest, her face turning rosy once more. "…there."
Al cleared his throat, but Molly didn't understand that he was trying to point out that her hands were still on his chest. So he changed subjects. "You can, er, hang up your cloak, you know."
She looked taken aback and then looked down with a laugh. "Oh, right… I completely forgot I still had this on…" She withdrew her warm touch and shrugged out of her cloak and draped it over the partition before sitting back on the edge of the cot. "Are you sure you're okay, Al?"
How could he be, with her sitting this close? But he got what she meant. "I'll heal. 'Course, now that I'm awake, Madam Pomfrey will probably force-feed me Skele-Gro—ick!" He pulled a face that got Molly giggling again, and his pain seemed to fade in light of her happy mood. He grinned as he watched her laugh.
"Oh, Merlin…! Al…" She sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Just what am I going to do with you? Every time I turn around, trouble finds you."
"I'm not looking for it—and what do you mean, what are you going to do with me?"
"When we were little, we looked at Quidditch magazines together and you were fawning over photos of your dad as a Seeker. When I turned my back, you became a Beater! When we went to school, you were terribly frightened of being put in Slytherin and swore you'd join Gryffindor with me. Then you became a snake!"
He stuck his tongue out at her. "But you love me as a snake."
He'd honestly expected her to roll her eyes and agree. But instead Molly looked at him with this inscrutable look on her face and said, "Yeah, I guess I do."
Whoa. What was that?
Her words sent a slight shiver up his spine, causing him to painfully jolt and disturb his knees. Curse his broken—and missing!—bones!
"Well, as you can see, I'll get better," he mumbled, leaning back into his pillows so she wasn't so close. Sweet Salazar, if only she weren't so close…!
Molly's face fell slightly, but Al could tell. He could always tell. He really was the closest to her. "I know, but… I mean, you were blindsided, Al. You sure the shock's gone?"
He shrugged. "Just think of it as punishment for all the times you turned your back and I got into 'trouble,'" he quipped with a wink.
Molly furrowed her brow again before hesitating and then throwing her arms around him. "Oh, good Merlin, Albus Severus Potter…!"
Al was back to choking out his words. "Er…yes?"
She held him by his shoulders. "You make me worry too much about you."
He'd honestly expected the part of him on which James had rubbed off to joke and tell her that she didn't have to worry so much. But all he could hear pounding in his ears was her "Yeah, I guess I do." Instead, he said, "…then…worry more about me than you might ever worry over Michael Corner."
Her eyes widened. Molly was easily the smartest in their family—contrary to the popular belief that Rose held that position—so Molly wholly understood what he meant. "I…I…"
"Molly Lilandra Weasley," Al breathed. He ignored the twitch in his knee as he leaned forward and caught her lips with his. Doing something like this was so forbidden and stupid that he felt his lips singed by it all. But he liked that bit of danger. Maybe it was why he'd become a Beater, of all things. "I'd like for you to worry more about me than you do over him."
Molly, always steady and sturdy, was crumbling a little around the edges, and she rested her head on Al's chest. He leaned back with her curled up in his arms—quite the feat, since she was trying to avoid moving his bad leg. She shook her head against his chest, but he could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. "Al, this is—"
"Preposterous? Why thank you, I'd like to think of it as the one moment I've been true to my House."
She shot him a look, but her face was too red for him to take her seriously, and she smacked him for chuckling at her. "You—you prat! I'm a taken woman."
"Not for long by Corner," Al insisted as his arms tightened around her until she finally rested her head on his chest again.
They were both quite for a long while. "It's…it's wrong, Al."
"Hmm. But you're…not denying it?"
She answered him with another kiss, this was hot, scorching, and bound to scare Madam Pomfrey if she checked Al's blood pressure in that second. "I like to be truthful when I can. A plus when in the memory business."
Al hugged her to him, tucking her head under his chin. "Then we'll just tell everyone that you were blindsided by a Bludger to the head." He winked. "Of course, that wouldn't be my fault at all."
"…everything's your fault."
"Yes, yes, because when you decide it's safe to turn around, I land myself in some trouble."
"And now you're dragging me with you," Molly breathed, her glasses fogging up.
Al had to admit. Though the hit he'd taken from the Bludger hurt like a bitch, he was feeling a lot better right then. Mols really was the best medicine for him, and now she seemed to realize that, too.
-w- KYOOT. Epically kyoot. Totally. Hooray for cousincest, honestly. Even though I'm such a Mollychael shipper, I'm also really falling for Molbus… -w- And yes, Molly2/Michael is an M&MWP, courtesy me, so I'd love a mention if you used them, thanks. And cookies to anyone who knows from where I took the name "Lilandra" to use as Mols' middle name. ;]
I hope you feel a little bit better reading, this, Liz! Xo
Thanks for reading and please review!