MollyWobbles

Spoons (v)

Expecto Patronum.

Playlist:
1. "Sabrina: Theme" by John Williams, Itzhak Perlman, and Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra/"Hoppipolla" by VSQ

---------------------------------------------------

Part IV: "Spoons" (v)

Arthur

March 15, 1968

A small, black book tottered in his lap as Professor Nubbly coached the students through the charm once again. It was the one from father's library that he'd set aside, until recently. It had been too painful to think about.

But now—

Arthur glanced up at Molly, who stood beside Nubbly and watched while the professor demonstrated the wand movements again.

Was it possible? Was this book describing what made their magics react as they did?

Molly huffed as her charm guttered.

Arthur felt rather badly that he'd picked it up so quickly.

Normally, he was the slower learner, and he knew how rubbish it felt to drag behind the others.

Molly's face was quite pinched, just now.

"Not everyone can produce a corporal Patronus," Nubbly said soothingly. "This alone is quite accomplished."

Merlin.

He could practically hear Molly's teeth grinding from here.

"I'm a Prewett," Molly snipped. "I can do it."

A few glimmering, blue creatures leapt and dove through the air. There was Reggie's grey squirrel and Pandora's hare. Olive looked to be producing something close to a beagle.

"I'm afraid that's all we have time for today," Nubbly said. "Perhaps if Mr. Weasley demonstrates again?" With that, the professor scuttled back to her desk at the front and began to gather the stack of essays they'd handed in.

Bugger. He'd walked Reggie through it, and now Nubbly kept pushing other students at him. He didn't mind helping, but his Patronus wasn't much to look at. With Molly, especially—she might find it patronizing.

Their classmates filed out, but Molly hadn't moved.

Finally, when the room was empty of all but them, Molly sighed and looked at him. "Fine."

Arthur blinked and folded the book under his arm.

He was keenly aware of his posture as he crossed to her side.

"What do you think of?" he asked quietly.

Molly bit her lip. "I haven't settled on one," she said.

Arthur shrugged. "Well, um—" he cleared his throat. "It's best if it's something meaningful." He lifted his wand and thought about the drip of champagne he hadn't even tasted. The flecks of light twisting around Molly's hands. The little, printed program. What he'd heard in that song, what he'd scarcely hoped, and what he'd known, finally, in the library. What she'd said the other night.

"Expecto Patronum," Arthur murmured. The weasel—yes, awful and trite and fitting as it was for a man named "Weasley"—leapt out and scurried around the classroom.

Most people thought you had to shout it.

"You make it look simple," Molly said quietly, watching his Patronus dart to and fro.

Arthur eyed her as he stepped closer, just behind her. He reached forward and drew one of the short strands of her hair from her face, pulling it behind her ear. "Lift your wand," he said.