Perceptions


The first time they met, Molly thought Arthur was… unconventional. He was sitting in an empty compartment looking at a book about electronics with a small set of tools sticking out of a cloth bag. When she sat back and thought about it, she might have been a little odd herself.

She took the empty compartment seat.

When she got past the eccentricity she realized it was easy and natural to be friends. They both had siblings to complain about, and they shared a sense of humor. It was a start.

While dating and being anything more to anyone was far from her mind during those early years. Being friends with a boy was hard enough with the snickering and the giggling and the joking about when they were going to get married. Children were cruel, her mother had said and she had been correct.

Molly had asked him out. It was a scary moment; it could have ruined their friendship. It was on a bit of advice from her dorm mate Gina, who was prone to mixing up her paintbrush and hairbrush while doing a painting. Molly did not know how to explain this phenomenon. She did not know if Gina really noticed anything; she took two tumbles down the steps while daydreaming and trying to figure out how to bring her landscapes to life. The girl had very little social life outside of hanging around with Molly on the walks to and from class.

Arthur might have nearly dropped a toaster on a first year's head, but that was beside the point. He said yes!

At the moment, Madam Puddifoot's and a walk through Hogsmeade with someone she cared about in a different way then the other people in her life, no matter how many times she had been there in the past, sounded so exciting.

The time they spent at Madam Puddifoot's was very short, they both split the bill and left early when a seventh year Hufflepuff confronted her boyfriend over the affair he had allegedly been having with her step-sister and threw a nearby teapot at his head. The resounding clang and crash of the teapot smashing him in the skull and the loud shriek and thud of the two-timer hitting the floor was enough to clear the rest of the pairs from the café.

They both agreed the girl had a very good arm.


There were many occasions since their first date when Molly thought her perception of romance had been brutally skewered in the past few years. With so many young children in the house, She and Arthur barely had any time to themselves. Those early days of holding hands and sneaking off to do things she never wanted her little brothers to find out about had been replaced with those little moments where Arthur said that he would watch the children for a while. Which was the best possible thing she could ever hear.

The house usually looked like it had been the sole victim of a dramatic explosion. With five children in the house, the mess was completely excusable. Every time she put something away, it would be back on the floor, uncontrollable magic in small children was a hazard to a clean home.

She continued making lunch for the boys while the clatter of pots and pans continued the washing in the sink. There were already clean plates on the table and a vase full of flowers Arthur had brought home for her a couple of days ago. Some of those leftovers from dinner last night would do for lunch; the boys would eat anything if it was not trying to escape from the table.

When the twins went down for a nap later she could start lessons. She had a few old postcards upstairs she could use for a geography lesson. Her parents loved to travel and they had given her their collection. It might be a good project for the boys. Next week maybe.

There was some loud shouting from the living room and a loud crash that snatched Molly's attention back to her home.

"MUM! THE TWINS ARE TRYING TO PLUCK ERROL AGAIN!"

Her work was never done.


"What on earth are you doing?" Arthur had made himself comfortable on the back porch sitting on the chair. The boys had just been put to bed fifteen minutes ago and Molly had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when she heard the back door quietly closing. She had poked her head out to see if one of the children had snuck out. "Where's your cloak? It's chilly out here." Molly summoned a knitted blanket from the couch and closed the door behind her.

He shrugged, "It's not that cold out Molly." He moved over so she could sit next to him. Molly sat down and through the blanket over the both of their laps and put her head on his shoulder.

"So, what was the story tonight?" Molly asked as she tucked her feet up underneath her. "Dilbert the Dangerous Dragon again?"

"No, surprisingly it was the Three Brothers. I finally managed to get to read them a different story."

"Only took a week, good job."

"Bill did something to distract Charlie with your clothes basket while Percy grabbed the book. Nobody was bleeding or crying so I didn't ask to many questions."

Molly laughed; it was definitely better not to ask to many questions about what the boys were up to. She might be happier not knowing much of the time. She only really worried when it was to quiet. That usually meant they were working together to do mischief.

Her voice dropped to a soft whisper, "How was work?"

Arthur wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"That bad. This can't last forever."

"No, it can't, but it could last a long time."

What kind of world were their children growing up in?

"It's nothing we haven't discussed to death."

They were silent and just looked out into the backyard.

"You know what Mollywobbles, someday, we will take a vacation. A real one. We'll leave the kids with your Great Aunt and take off for a few days, just the two of us."

Molly laughed, "I hate to tell you that if we leave the kids with Muriel, we might come back and not have any children at all."

"Or we might not have Muriel." Arthur was unable to contain the chuckle at his own wit.

"That's terrible!"Molly laughed.

Molly's perceptions of everything had changed over the years. Romance had gone from being swept off her feet and candlelight dinners to something more grounded and attached to reality. Just spending time with the man she loved was enough.


Prompts used: Postcards, brush, "What on earth are you doing?"