Some Days You Gotta Dance

Some days you gotta dance,

Live it up when you get the chance.

When the world doesn't make no sense,

And you're feeling just a little too tense,

You gotta loosen up those chains and dance.

Molly Weasley glanced at the clock anxiously. Arthur was still at work, it was almost 2 a.m. and his dinner was long past cold. For the fourth time this week, Arthur had stayed at the office past midnight.

Her heart jumped as the longest hand on the Weasley Family Clock moved from 'work' to 'traveling' to 'home.' Molly ran to the front hall, where Arthur was removing his traveling cloak. "Long day at- Arthur! What happened?" Molly cried.

Arthur's left cheek had a long gash from just under his eye to his chin. It was patched, but the skin around it was red and inflamed. He sighed tiredly.

"Someone is distributing anti-Muggle paraphernalia. They happen to be flesh-eating wrist watches. One of them exploded when I tried to Stun it and I got scratched with the shrapnel."

"What do you mean 'anti-Muggle'?" asked Molly, wide-eyed with concern and anger.

Arthur rubbed his eyes. "I mean, some Dark Wizard is selling wrist watches that eat their Muggle wearers. They put the watch on and then, after a random amount of time, the watch starts consuming their flesh. It starts at their wrist, burrowing into the flesh, travels up the arm, and to the heart. Then it...it...eats the heart, alive. While it's still beating," Arthur sighed and sank into Molly's arms.

"Great merciful Merlin," said Molly softly. She stroked the back of Arthur's head as sobs shook his thin frame. "How could anyone do that...what hatred!" Molly's voice trembled as hot tears fell from her own eyes.

Molly led Arthur over to the sagging sofa and pulled his head into her lap. "How many have..." Molly couldn't finish.

"Twenty-five. One of them was a fourteen-year-old boy. He only wanted a cheap watch so he wouldn't miss his bus. His mother said he left his nice watch at home. She was...inconsolable. We couldn't modify enough of her memory to forget her son without damaging her brain. We had to tell her and her husband that their son had been killed in a bus accident." Arthur took a quivering breath. "Oh Molly, you have no idea. That poor boy, it was disgusting. He was so young. How can a human hate so much that they would kill a defenseless boy, Muggle or not?" he cried. He sobbed again, burying his face in his hands.

Molly stroked his hair, trying to soothe him with gentle endearments and soft, calming noises. "But they're not human, dear. Human beings don't destroy each other over petty things like being of magical blood or non-magical blood. Monsters do. These wizards let their hate poison their blood until they are monsters who can see nothing but hate." Molly kissed Arthur's forehead gently. "There will always be hate in this world, Dearheart. But there will always be love, too. And love will always, always triumph over hate."

Arthur looked up at his wife. He saw that her hair was beginning to gray and the skin around her eyes had started to wrinkle. But he also saw pure, radiant love shining in her face. A love so strong, it left him in awe.

"I am so glad I married you, Molly Weasley," said Arthur. "You always know how to chase away the darkness."

Molly smiled. She got to her feet, and pulled Arthur with her. "Come. When the evils of the world rear their heads, my mother always said to hold all that is dear close to your heart, and dance until the troubles go away. She said, 'When you dance with love against your heart, evil cannot keep step, but only tire and fade away.'"

With that, Molly drew Arthur to her and, to a song only the two of them could hear, danced slowly round their parlor. As they swayed in perfect sync, Arthur felt warmth flood his limbs. A peace he had nearly forgotten filled his heart. Holding Molly, he felt that even if the world grew darker, more evil, he could fight it with Molly's love holding him together. Even if the worst happened and Molly and he were separated, temporarily or permanently, he would still have the memory of her love in this life, and the promise of her love in the next.

Unseen by Arthur, two tears slipped from Molly's eyes and fell to the floor. The darkness that consumed her world was once again touching her family. Molly knew she could not fight it all, knew that she and her kin would never be the same. Molly cried for the life of the young Muggle boy, which, she knew, could easily have been one of her children. She knew that she and Arthur had been lucky to have their six boys survive the first war. Molly cried and prayed that her children would again be spared, that all of them would die old, wise and happy. But deep in her heart, Molly knew that the war with Voldemort would claim lives regardless of family lines, and she could never know when death might touch them.

As Arthur held her close and they swayed to a beat unheard, Molly clung to the happiness in her life. She thought back to the first time she and Arthur had danced together as husband and wife. Molly recalled the bright summer day when she and Arthur had danced in the light of the setting sun.

"Can you remember, Dearheart, when we were just married? When times were happy and we were young?" asked Molly softly.

"Yes Molly," replied Arthur. "I do."

And husband and wife held each other, danced and wished for a joyful future.