Arthur's New Trousers

Arthur's New Trousers

by Dethryl

Molly Weasley, housewife and mother of three, was at the stove preparing dinner. She absently hooked a foot under the giggling and squirming Percival, who was attempting to escape her watchful eye. William and Charles, the two older boys, were giggling themselves, remembering when it had been them who had played the game. They turned back to their wizard blocks.

"I'm home!" came a voice from the front door to their house, the Burrow. Her husband was home from his job at the Ministry of Magic. He was late again, as he often was. She chided him constantly about how he ought to be spending more time with her and with the children, but Arthur loved his job.

She heard the thumping noises as her husband deposited his briefcase and overcoat in their proper places. She was always very strict that his work stayed at work. His footsteps were heavy as he came into the kitchen. "Molly! Molly, look what I've got!"

"Arthur, it's about time you got-" she said as she turned around and stopped dead in mid-sentence. The sight before her was shocking, highly so. Her husband of ten years, proud father and under-paid Ministry employee, was wearing almost nothing. His pale chest, fiercely freckled and sparsely covered with reddish curls, was bare. He had some sort of awful purple-coloured garment around his legs and waist. Two brilliant red strips of fabric ran from shiny metal bits at the waist of the garment up over his shoulders. He was grinning like a small child on Christmas morning.

"What do you think?" he asked eagerly, turning around to show her that the bright red fabric strips criss-crossed in the back.

"William, take your brothers upstairs. Now," Molly said firmly. William carefully picked up the still-giggling Percival and grabbed his other brother's arm. He knew better than to mess with Mum when she used that tone.

"What are you wearing?" she demanded as soon as the children had left the room.

"Muggle clothing," he said, as if it needed explaining. "I do believe it's called 'trao zers.' There's a button here at the waist area, you see. And look! It has this wonderful little gadget!"

Arthur seized ahold of the shiny metal bits right below the button. *zip* *zip* *zip* *zip* *zip* "It makes the most delightful sound, doesn't it, Molly? A wonderful zipping sound." *zip* *zip* *zip* *zip* "I wonder what they call it?" *zip* *zip* *zip* *zip* *zip*

"Arthur!" Molly hissed, scandalized, even in her own kitchen. "What do you think you're doing?"

"And it makes for such easy access!" he rambled on, completely oblivious to her chiding, continuing to zip and unzip the thing that made the zipping sound. "Normally when I have to use the loo, it's a whole big production, but with these 'trowzers' my John Thomas can just pop right-"

*zi-*

"Aaaaaah!" Arthur shrieked as delicate and highly sensitive bits of flesh caught in the teeth of the zipping-sounding thing.

"Don't shout like that, you'll frighten the children!" she stormed at him. "Serves you right! Take those hideous things off at once!"

Arthur had fallen to the floor, holding both hands to his naughty bits. Tears were shimmering in his eyes and faint whines of pain escape him. A bright drop of blood fell to the floor.

Molly sighed. "I'll get an ice pack. Honestly, Arthur, the foolish things you do..." she trailed off, beginning to wrap ice up in a dishtowel.

Finé