MollyWobbles

Eckeltricity (xi)

Arthur receives an unexpected owl.

A/N: 

Playlist:
1. "Torches" by The Oh Hellos
2. "Clocks" by VSQ

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Part III: "Eckeltricity" (xi)

Arthur

June 10, 1967

He nearly missed the train, dawdling like that in Hogsmeade. But he'd barely gotten five minutes with Molly. Exams, extra prefect rounds, and career meetings had kept them constantly harried.

This summer—he was going to get some proper time with Molly. Maybe take her walking again, or to see another concert. Or something.

The sky was the limit, really.

Charles was there with a set of cards, waiting.

Arthur drew up the table and chairs like always.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong, some reason that Molly's uncle had shown concern. But he couldn't figure why his not having any sisters was a problem.

With some effort, he pushed it from his mind and focused on the game.

And when Charles asked after Molly, Arthur responded with a smile that had the balding man leaping to his feet clapping him on the back.

#

June 20, 1967

He should've been tidying his room. Mum'd had kittens when she saw all his gadgets dumped out of his school trunk, and he'd promised to get it sorted before bed.

Instead, Arthur was flipping through yet another book on lesser-known magic—trying to sort why he felt like an exploded battery every time Molly Prewett came near him.

She didn't seem to have the faintest idea of it, and Arthur was a bit worried it was something serious.

Dad was no help.

"Youth," he'd said wryly, the night before. And then Mum had given him a long talk that left Arty the same color as the tomatoes on his supper plate.

Arty flipped past a chapter on unbreakable vows, sighing. While the issue didn't feel like dark magic, it certainly wasn't as typical as his father made it out to be.

Then again, Arthur had been a bit of a stammering mess when he'd explained it. Getting the question out the first time had been hard enough.

But a second attempt? Forget about it. He'd rather die of it, if it came to that.

Arty turned the page.

He'd found it in the back of Flourish and Blotts, near the volumes that weren't in modern English. It was vague and contained very little, but it was still more than Arthur had found before.

The most interesting bit was a short poem, really.

The first stanza warned the reader to mind the draw. The second spoke of a tie—a powerful bond both rare and precious. And the third, of sharing or something.

It was the sort of thing most would scoff at. Sentimental, really. A rubbish bit of poetry on the experience of falling in love. But some of the language seemed a bit too...accurate for him to overlook.

"As like with lightning and warmer than hearth" and "magic's pull" and then there was a fascinating bit about "unbreaking words" and "combining light."