- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- The Dark Arts
- Genres:
- Angst Romance
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Stats:
-
Published: 07/26/2003Updated: 07/26/2003Words: 949Chapters: 1Hits: 184
Secrets
Mandy of the Amoeba
- Story Summary:
- Teenagers Molly and Arthur chat over the Christmas holidays; he tells her a secret from his past that's been hidden away for years. Rated for sensitive issues.
- Posted:
- 07/26/2003
- Hits:
- 184
A/N: I own nothing. Random little scene from Molly and Arthur's life.
~*~*~*~*~
Molly Finneran smiled as she snuggled into her boyfriend's -- 'fiance, now,' she reminded herself -- arms as they lay together on his bed. The scene would probably look a little suspicious if her parents walked in, but they were in Diagon Alley with her little brother exchanging one of his Christmas presents. She wouldn't be old enough to apparate for another month, and Arthur was, so he popped over whenever she Flooed him to let him know the house was free. All they ever did was cuddle and kiss and talk ("Not until I'm seventeen, Arthur!"), but they liked their privacy.
"Tell me a story!" she demanded after a somewhat lengthy silence. She wriggled out of his arms and propped up on one elbow, staring down at him impatiently. Arthur thought a moment, then shrugged.
"Um....once upon a time, there was a very lucky man named Arthur who was going to someday be married to a very beautiful witch named Molly," he tried. She laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, Arthur...you're a flatterer, but that wasn't a proper story at all!" she fussed. The redheaded boy just grinned, reaching his arms out to her, but she shrugged him away. "No! Not until you tell me a story!"
"I don't HAVE any stories, Molly!" he argued, exasperated. "Why don't you tell me a story?" But the little witch just shook her head stubbornly, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest.
"No, I asked you first. How about a secret, if you don't have any stories?" she asked, brightening slightly. "Tell me something that you've never told anyone else in the whole world!" She uncrossed her arms and crossed her legs instead, facing him as she sat Indian-style on the bed.
"You know all my secrets, my dear," Arthur replied easily, clasping his arms behind his head and staring up at her ceiling.
"Oh, come on, Arthur, there must be something!" she pleaded. Silence followed, and she grinned slightly when she knew she was close to getting something out of him. "Well?"
Still looking up at the ceiling, Arthur answered her quietly, "I never told you about the time I was sexually assaulted."
Molly just blinked, forcing her mouth closed again after it fell open in shock. She wasn't used to hearing Arthur speak so frankly about something so serious, and she was even less used to the idea that something like that could happen to the man she loved. "W-what?" she asked, disbelief etched over her face as she stared down at him. He still didn't look at her.
"You know the old abandoned house up the hill from where I live? Well, when I was a little boy, it wasn't abandoned," he began, speaking almost casually. She sat motionless as he spoke, dumbfounded....and a little ashamed for pressing him to tell a secret. "An older man used to live up there. He and my dad were good friends. Well, one day....I was about six years old, I guess....I was playing in the backyard, and he called me up to his house -- "
"Arthur," Molly interrupted, reaching forward to place one hand over his lips. "Arthur, you don't have to....I....I'm sorry....." she faltered, but he removed her hand and continued speaking with a little difficulty.
"I'd always been taught to respect my elders, so I didn't hesitate to go up to his front porch. I....I didn't stop him when he started....doing things to me, either," he finished, searching for the right words. Molly was white-faced, not sure whether she should try to stop him again or just let him get everything out. She didn't really want to hear any of this. She didn't want to think that her darling Arthur's life had been anything less than happy, if a little poor. But she let him continue; a bigger part of her knew she had to listen to the bad things as well as the good.
"I was young," he was saying, and she listened numbly. "I didn't understand what he was doing or if I should stop him....I just knew it didn't seem right. When he wanted me to do the same thing to him....I ran. I turned and ran home, and I heard him yelling after me that he would tell my Dad and I would be in big trouble.....I thought may he was telling the truth. I thought I had done something wrong."
Wordlessly, Molly lay down beside him again, her head resting on the pillow close to his cheek as she draped her arm across his chest. "I'm sorry...." she whispered after a moment of silence, squeezing him tightly. She felt more than heard him give a snort of laughter.
"Well, that was something I'd never told anyone else," he remarked, trying to lighten the mood again. He looped one arm underneath her body, his hand coming to rest on her waist, and she snuggled so that her head rested against his shoulder. "Guess I shouldn't have said anything."
"I'm glad you told me," she replied sincerely, tracing the seams of his robe with her fingers. "You're the most important thing in my life, Arthur Weasley. I want you to be able to tell me anything. I want you to trust me." She felt him bury his nose into her auburn hair, and they both breathed a sigh in unison. They both knew he only had a little longer to stay; he was welcome at the Finneran home, but neither of them wanted to be caught unescorted. For the moment, they stole what peace they could in one another's arms.
~*~*~*~*~
Molly Finneran smiled as she snuggled into her boyfriend's -- 'fiance, now,' she reminded herself -- arms as they lay together on his bed. The scene would probably look a little suspicious if her parents walked in, but they were in Diagon Alley with her little brother exchanging one of his Christmas presents. She wouldn't be old enough to apparate for another month, and Arthur was, so he popped over whenever she Flooed him to let him know the house was free. All they ever did was cuddle and kiss and talk ("Not until I'm seventeen, Arthur!"), but they liked their privacy.
"Tell me a story!" she demanded after a somewhat lengthy silence. She wriggled out of his arms and propped up on one elbow, staring down at him impatiently. Arthur thought a moment, then shrugged.
"Um....once upon a time, there was a very lucky man named Arthur who was going to someday be married to a very beautiful witch named Molly," he tried. She laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, Arthur...you're a flatterer, but that wasn't a proper story at all!" she fussed. The redheaded boy just grinned, reaching his arms out to her, but she shrugged him away. "No! Not until you tell me a story!"
"I don't HAVE any stories, Molly!" he argued, exasperated. "Why don't you tell me a story?" But the little witch just shook her head stubbornly, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest.
"No, I asked you first. How about a secret, if you don't have any stories?" she asked, brightening slightly. "Tell me something that you've never told anyone else in the whole world!" She uncrossed her arms and crossed her legs instead, facing him as she sat Indian-style on the bed.
"You know all my secrets, my dear," Arthur replied easily, clasping his arms behind his head and staring up at her ceiling.
"Oh, come on, Arthur, there must be something!" she pleaded. Silence followed, and she grinned slightly when she knew she was close to getting something out of him. "Well?"
Still looking up at the ceiling, Arthur answered her quietly, "I never told you about the time I was sexually assaulted."
Molly just blinked, forcing her mouth closed again after it fell open in shock. She wasn't used to hearing Arthur speak so frankly about something so serious, and she was even less used to the idea that something like that could happen to the man she loved. "W-what?" she asked, disbelief etched over her face as she stared down at him. He still didn't look at her.
"You know the old abandoned house up the hill from where I live? Well, when I was a little boy, it wasn't abandoned," he began, speaking almost casually. She sat motionless as he spoke, dumbfounded....and a little ashamed for pressing him to tell a secret. "An older man used to live up there. He and my dad were good friends. Well, one day....I was about six years old, I guess....I was playing in the backyard, and he called me up to his house -- "
"Arthur," Molly interrupted, reaching forward to place one hand over his lips. "Arthur, you don't have to....I....I'm sorry....." she faltered, but he removed her hand and continued speaking with a little difficulty.
"I'd always been taught to respect my elders, so I didn't hesitate to go up to his front porch. I....I didn't stop him when he started....doing things to me, either," he finished, searching for the right words. Molly was white-faced, not sure whether she should try to stop him again or just let him get everything out. She didn't really want to hear any of this. She didn't want to think that her darling Arthur's life had been anything less than happy, if a little poor. But she let him continue; a bigger part of her knew she had to listen to the bad things as well as the good.
"I was young," he was saying, and she listened numbly. "I didn't understand what he was doing or if I should stop him....I just knew it didn't seem right. When he wanted me to do the same thing to him....I ran. I turned and ran home, and I heard him yelling after me that he would tell my Dad and I would be in big trouble.....I thought may he was telling the truth. I thought I had done something wrong."
Wordlessly, Molly lay down beside him again, her head resting on the pillow close to his cheek as she draped her arm across his chest. "I'm sorry...." she whispered after a moment of silence, squeezing him tightly. She felt more than heard him give a snort of laughter.
"Well, that was something I'd never told anyone else," he remarked, trying to lighten the mood again. He looped one arm underneath her body, his hand coming to rest on her waist, and she snuggled so that her head rested against his shoulder. "Guess I shouldn't have said anything."
"I'm glad you told me," she replied sincerely, tracing the seams of his robe with her fingers. "You're the most important thing in my life, Arthur Weasley. I want you to be able to tell me anything. I want you to trust me." She felt him bury his nose into her auburn hair, and they both breathed a sigh in unison. They both knew he only had a little longer to stay; he was welcome at the Finneran home, but neither of them wanted to be caught unescorted. For the moment, they stole what peace they could in one another's arms.