MollyWobbles

Spoons (xxiii)

She'd felt the pinch fifteen minutes before. Like a sharp twang—not enough to move the spoon all the way, but enough to have her floo calling Gideon, pacing, and wringing her hands.

Playlist:
1. "Once There Were Dragons" by John Powell (especially the first part; but this song also carries through to the next chapter)

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Part IV: Spoons (xxiii)

Molly

March 10, 1972

Arthur's guttering breath sounded in the living room. "Molly—"

She dropped down her knitting needles and flew across the house. "Arty?"

Bill began to cry in his bassinet by the dining table.

She'd felt the pinch fifteen minutes before. Like a sharp twang—not enough to move the spoon all the way, but enough to have her floo calling Gideon, pacing, and wringing her hands.

Arthur had blood down the front of his coat, and it gushed out of his nose.

Oh, oh no—no. His face was white. Pasty.

"Mol—" Arty's eyes rolled back, and he buckled.

Molly surged to cast a diagnostic charm. It looked like a bloodied nose, but one could never be—

The floo roared, and Perkins leapt out. "Cursed biscuits!"

"What happened?" Molly cried. She waved her wand, summoning the potions rack.

Perkins darted forward and stooped, pressing a handkerchief towards her. "A package of cursed biscuits," he said. "Someone left them on Arthur's desk to inspect. Didn't leave a note, though, and he—"

Molly's middle went cold. "No," she said.

"When he touched it, it exploded in his face like a jack-in-the-box," Perkins muttered. "Bloody muggle-baiters."

It sometimes seemed to Molly that Arthur was more likely to fall for muggle baiting than the muggles were. Not checking the biscuits? What was he thinking?

Perkins helped her slow the bleeding, and Molly seethed the entire time, reaching for vial after vial. "Why wouldn't they leave a note?" she said.

Perkins's mouth twisted. "Probably an oversight," he said.

Oversight? Molly's innards writhed. Her Arty was laid flat over the living room floor because some prat hadn't bothered to file a form?

"But it likely didn't help what Arthur said in the all-staff department meeting yesterday," Perkins murmured. "Ed Montague made a joke about vanishing muggles' car keys to keep them at home, and I'm afraid Arthur took that quite seriously. The meeting ran late because he kept trying to explain—" He made an awkward hemming sound. "Well, there were a number of people who didn't care for it."

Arty—

His cheek was clammy under her hand.

Perkins hit him with a Rennervate, and Arthur's eyes fluttered open.

"Molly," he breathed.

Molly frowned. "Why didn't you go to Mungo's?" she asked.

"Didn't want—" He blinked heavily "—you to worry," Arthur said, stuffy and slow and dazed.

"Yes, but if your bleeding out appears to be a concern, I'd rather you head there first," she chided, lowering a Blood Replenishing Potion to his mouth.

Arty winced at the taste. She'd make cinnamon scones or something later to make up for the taste, but he had to be conscious to enjoy them. Molly tipped more of the potion down, shooting him a stern look when he hummed a whingy protest.

"It's a less glamourous part of the job," Perkins said grimly. "I remember my first gusher. Jinxed pram a few decades ago. Leaned over to check the inside and it clubbed me right in the—"

"Tha—thank you, Perkins," Arthur said suddenly, shoveling his arm under himself to rise. "I think I'm well enough here."

Perkins nodded, then shifted back towards the floo. "Apologies, Arthur," he called. "I'll post a sign or something to try to keep this from happening again."

Molly sat back on her heels and watched as Arthur dabbed gingerly at the skin under his nostrils. She waited until the floo sounded before starting in on him.

"You grabbed an unattended biscuit tin?" she hissed. "All willy-nilly?"

Arthur blinked. "They were biscuits, Molly. Was I supposed to interrogate them first?"

Oh, she could throttle him.

"Seeing as you work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, yes," she said crisply. "I'd say that's exactly what you're supposed to do." Her hands fiddle callouses scraped over her apron as she stood.

Arthur gave her a hard look, then shuffled towards the dining area to pick Bill up.

Molly followed him. "What were you thinking, Arty?"

"I was thinking—" He gave a small grunt as he adjusted Bill against his hip. "'Oh, someone's brought me biscuits,'" Arthur said mildly, parroting himself as he shrugged a bit. "'Love a biscuit.'"

Molly waved her dishrag in the air. "They were muggle biscuits!"

"There are mugglebornes and half-bloods who work at the office, Molls," Arthur said, sighing.

"There might've been anything in that tin." She wrung her hands. "You could've been killed. You could've died."

"Molly," he said shortly.

The pain in his eyes told her that he perhaps realized this.

"Promise me you'll be more careful," she said.

He nodded.

Molly blinked, then swallowed. "Alright, go—go wash up," she whispered. "And give me that cloak. You're covered in blood."

She reached for Bill.

He was already calmed and fading towards sleep, face pressed to Arthur's shoulder. It was some sort of Weasley magic, the way Arthur did that. He maintained that he didn't ever use sleeping charms, but what else it might be, Molly hadn't the faintest. Bill almost always settled when Arthur picked him up—which was often.

And normally, the sight of Arty pacing around the living room and holding Bill nearly melted her into a puddle. But there was blood on his robes, just now.

The sick, pinched feeling intensified in the pit of her stomach.

The floo roared, and Gideon rushed through. "Fabian's fine, but—" he paused when he took in Arthur and the stirring William.

He glanced between Molly and Arthur, then.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

Arthur passed William to Molly. "No, Gideon," Arty said, calm as ever. "I've been a complete numpty and exploded a biscuit tin in my face." Then, he hung his cloak over a dining chair that materialized under his hand, turned, and trudged up the stairs to the little loo across from the nursery.

Bill stretched wordlessly for Gideon.

"You two alright?" Gideon asked, taking him.

Molly shrugged.

It was hard to think clearly when she'd had a scare. And it being Arthur—she hadn't meant to snap at him.

Molly scrubbed that old, green cloak until the stain was gone. Her hands shook in the sink after she was through.

Arthur.

Arthur.

Arthur.