Predictability

"I don't hate everything. If I hated everything, that would make me predictable, and I am not predictable. So… in addition to hating things, which I absolutely do, I also love."

Jade West, What I Love

"You know what I hate?" Molly Weasley says randomly one day. She's seated across from Lysander and Lorcan Scamander in the library, and both boys are peering at her like she's the strangest creature that they've ever seen.

Lorcan snorts. "Everything?"

"Hardly." Molly rolls her eyes. "I hate Jon Creevey's crush on me. Honestly, the kid is annoying enough without him asking me out every five seconds."

"Maybe he hates that you don't like him back," Lysander offers, giving her a half-smile.

"Please." Lorcan snorts. "Molly doesn't like anything, let alone another human being."

Lifting her head, Molly stares at the two of them for a second, two seconds, a hard, blazing look that seems to burn right through their skulls. Then, without speaking a single word to either of them, she stands up and walks off. Lysander swears he sees something akin to hurt on her face as she walks off, though of course she would never admit it to him (or anyone else, for that matter).

Sometimes in Potions, Lysander catches her smiling. It's an odd occurrence, and not something that most people would notice (not that he's most people, really), but on occasion, it does happen. She'll put ingredient after ingredient into her cauldron methodically, her eyebrows knit together, and once the potion fades into precisely the right colour, a small smile will spread across her face. Of course, she'll ensure that it disappears after just a moment or two, because of course Molly Weasley can't be caught smiling, but he sees it, he always does.

After the whole incident in the library, Lysander is determined to prove his know-it-all brother wrong. Despite the whole ice queen front she tries so hard to keep up, he has a feeling that underneath, Molly Weasley is actually completely vulnerable. After all, he'd gotten a glimpse of that vulnerability during that odd moment in the library. So, for some weird reason, he starts to make a mental list of the things that Molly likes. The first thing he adds to the list is Potions class or, more likely, the process of making potions.

He finds her fascination with potions to be strange at first, but after a while it becomes more endearing than anything. For whatever reason, he likes the fleeting smile that paints her cheeks. He likes that it makes her happy.

Oddly enough, he likes seeing her happy.

The next thing to make its way onto his (admittedly very short) list is coffee. Whenever someone shows up with a mug of coffee, her eyes light up like fireworks. At first, he finds it cliché – of course it'd be coffee, the most stereotypical of all Muggle drinks – but of course, he gets used to it after a while. And no, it's not just because she is so fascinated with it. It's because she forces him to try it.

"Lysander, I swear it's good," she says impudently. "Just drink the stuff before I have to use brute force."

"Whose brute force?" he teases. "Last time I checked, you're only capable of wielding scissors, which really, compared to my skills with a wand, don't measure up."

"I'm competent enough with a wand, and besides, I can always call Dominique in for back-up." Her eyes flash. She obviously knows that she has won the battle. "We don't want that, do we?"

"Yeah, I think we'll be just fine without calling up Dom, thanks." He tries to hide his terror. Everyone in the school is scared of Molly's cousin; that is, apart from the guys who think that she's gorgeous and insist on flirting with her every second of the day. Most people are scared of Molly as well, though he honestly can't imagine why.

"Drink it, you idiot," she hisses through her teeth, sounding remarkably like an actual snake.

"Fine." Cautiously, he sips at the steaming beverage, and immediately he understands. It's a bit like one of those situations he'd seen so often in Muggle movies, where a light shines down from the sky and people sing a heavenly tune, though instead of finding his 'true love' he's just found a wonderful drink.

Molly smirks. "You like it, don't you?"

"I didn't say that," he sputters.

"You didn't have to." She crosses her arms. "It's written all over your face."

Along with coffee, he adds 'embarrassing other people, namely Lysander' to the list. (He doesn't question the fact that he uses third person, because he tends to do that a lot.)

A lot of times, Molly tries to convince him (and the rest of the school) that she despises her family. Most of the time, she fails at it, at least when it comes to him. It would suffice to say that she doesn't fool him at all.

People don't usually see past the surface, past the glares and angry words, but he goes deeper. He sees how the corner of her mouth quirks up when one of them speaks to her. He sees how her body language goes from defensive to open during her conversations with them. He sees how she (reluctantly) agrees to whatever they ask of her. He sees and he notices and he observes, and then he puts it all together to conclude that Molly Weasley does care for her family.

Really, he's not that much of an idiot. Molly would be proud.

After she goes skating with Louis one day, leaving him to his own devices, he adds 'her family' to the ever-expanding list in his mind.

As the days go by, the list fills up. For a Ravenclaw, Lorcan was so very stupid and so very wrong. Molly does like a lot of things – she likes chocolate and coffee and Potions and her family and being a Slytherin and the colour green. He could go on, really, but life is too short and the list is far too long.

The final item on his extensive list comes on a chilly day. The two of them are outside, sprawled by the lake. Molly is glaring at some Hufflepuff kids that seem insistent on tossing large stones into the lake.

"You idiots," she mutters under her breath. "You're going to kill the fish."

"And you care about the fish because?" he prompts, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't really," she confesses, sitting up. "I'd just rather them not be suffocated by enormous rocks."

"Is that compassion I hear?" he teases.

Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head. "Honestly, Scamander, you're insufferable."

"Yet you're here with me anyway," he muses absently, running a hand through his floppy blonde curls. "I can't imagine why that would be."

Suddenly her lips are on his, demanding and glorious, though he hasn't a clue as to what is happening. His hands come up to rest on other side of her face, pulling her closer despite his reservations. This is one opportunity he just can't pass up.

"That's why," she says once she pulls away. Her eyes are stormy and dark, which confuses him.

"You like me?" he inquires, his eyes wide. This is new; this is utterly baffling. For a while, he'd suspected that he might be harbouring a rather big crush on Molly Weasley, but never once had he considered the possibility that she could ever like him back.

"Interpret it however you like," she responds simply, and then she walks away.

Shaking his head in wonder, he decides to take a leap of faith and add that to the list. This is the last piece of information, the thing that has been missing – Molly Weasley likes Lysander Scamander, therefore Lorcan's theory was completely wrong. Molly is completely capable of liking both things and humans. It's just something she works hard to cover up.

Molly sits down casually across from him. It's been less than a day since the kiss, and yet Molly seems so insistent on ignoring it just like she ignores everything else. He doesn't bother bringing it up; he'd rather like to keep his head intact. After a moment of silence, she speaks. "Lorcan was right."

"Huh?" He doesn't bother masking his confusion. How could Lorcan possibly be right? Is this her unconventional way of breaking up with him, even though they were never really together? It doesn't make any sense to him at all.

"Well, not completely, but he was partially right." She sighs, stabbing at her food with her fork. "You see, I don't, contrary to popular belief, hate everything. Hating everything is too predictable, and I don't like being predictable. I don't particularly like things, either. Liking is too mediocre. I like to go for both extremes. So I love, just as everyone else does."

"So basically, you're saying you either hate things or you love them?" He can't keep the smile off his face, because he knows what this implies and he's strangely more than okay with it.

"Basically." She lifts her eyes to meet his.

He doesn't bother resisting. Reaching out, he kisses her, grinning as she quickly responds to his touch. He hopes that she gets the message that he's trying so hard to send.

And despite the fact that he can't go rub his victory into Lorcan's face now, due to Molly's strange belief that Lorcan is actually right, he takes pleasure in the fact that, contrary to what Molly or Lorcan may think, he was right all along.

And right now, whether he was right or wrong, he feels on top of the world. She was right as well, though; Molly Weasley is very unpredictable.

(He wouldn't have her any other way.)

A/N: Basically I'm just in love with that Jade quote and somehow it turned into Mollysander fluff. Um. Yeah. Sorry for any errors or discontinuity; it is very late here. Hope you enjoy anyway and please review/don't favorite without reviewing.