Title: Supposed to be Cake Word Count: 129 Warning/Rating: None, General Public. Pairing(s)/Character(s): Ginny Weasley-as a kid, Molly, and mentions of the Weasley brothers.
“There was supposed to be cake.” Ginny whined.
“There’ll be cake next year. Mommy just can’t make another right now.” Molly said, sounding exhausted.
“I hate them! They’re horrible and they’re never nice to me.” Ginny said, walking up the stairs.
“That’s not true. I know what they did was mean and unthoughtful, but they love you Ginny.”
“No, they don’t. It’s my birthday, and they ate my cake!” Ginny said, her tone reminding Molly of herself, so stubborn and determined. If her girl didn’t end up in Gryffindor, Molly would personally see to it that the sorting hat would be replaced. It took some bravery for a four year old girl to stand up to her six older brothers, yelling at them for ruining her birthday.
Title: Craving Word Count: 400 Pairing :Molly/Arthur
”Molly, I swear that if you don’t sit down now I’ll personally make sure to tie you to our bed.” Molly Weasley pulled out a large tray from one of the cupboards, not paying her husband any attention as he huffed and puffed. “I’m serious Molly, I’ll tie you down.”
“What do you want me to do? Sit on my bottom all day as the boys make a mess? I can’t help it, I have to clean.” She never stopped moving around the kitchen, looking for different ingredients.
“This is not cleaning,” Arthur said as he pulled the bag of flour from her hands. Molly tried to hold the bag but had to give up when she knew he would not release it.
“It’s craving,” she answered shortly and searched for the chocolate bars. “I want chocolate cake.” Arthur placed the flour down on the counter and walked closer to her. When he was standing right next to her he placed his hand on her large belly.
“If its chocolate cake you want then why don’t you ask me to make it, or go out and buy one since you know my baking isn’t half as good as yours?” Molly smiled sweetly, placed her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a hug. When she was done she held his face with both her hands and kissed him, showing him just how much she loved him.
“Alright, why don’t you make a cake?” She could instantly see that he was nervous, he had after all never even needed to boil an egg, not as long as Molly was home.
“If that is what you wish Mollywobbles, then I’ll do it. Anything for you, the mother of my six children, soon seven.” They smiled sweetly at each other a few seconds before all hell broke loose. Ron suddenly started crying, the twins were arguing about a toy that Percy had, and Charlie and Bill ran into the house after a bloody and muddy Quidditch match.
“You better make it a large cake,” Molly told her husband. Quickly she sent the two eldest into the bathroom to take a shower, removed the toy from the three that were fighting over it and picked up Ron, who would soon not be her youngest. With a smile she sat down in her large and comfortable chair, exhausted but happy about her life.
Didn’t talk about how they seemed to find their way to each other’s beds so often, how they got tangled in each other’s lives so easily, almost like they fit, like they mattered to each other so much more than they showed in the light of day. Harry had gotten used to it; had gotten good at it, in fact.
Or so he told himself, until –
He found a chocolate cake on the coffee table in the living room one Friday evening. Harry looked at it curiously and then walked up to the table. There was a note that read, please, be my boyfriend, yours, Draco.
Harry stared at the short note, a wide smile blooming on his face; so little had been said and yet it meant so damn much. “So what do you say?”
Draco was standing right behind him and Harry whirled around and kissed him. When they pulled apart, Harry murmured a string of whispered, “yes, yes, yes.”
It’s tradition, him slipping out afterwards once everyone’s gone home, stealing his bits of cake and heading down to his workroom for some time alone. The first time it happens she has a moment of worrying, wondering what it is he’s up to on his own tonight, but it’s clear when he comes back it’s helped him.
So she never asks him. Assumes if it’s important, if it’s a thing he needs to tell her, he will at some point, because he always does eventually. George keeps his own counsel about most things but he tells her what she needs to know, and she trusts him to keep her as close and informed and whatnot as he needs her to be.
Trust hasn’t come easily to either of them, really, but it has come, and it’s worth so much more for the effort.
It helps that it’s his birthday, and that he gets through his parties with an honest smile on, without flinching or looking haunted or anything. There’s only just one name on the cake now, only one set of candles, and Percy’s Oliver says that’s new.
Even after the war, Percy’s Oliver says, there’d been the expectation there’d be two.
So every year on George’s birthday, she spends the bulk of her night at his side, running the wild piss-up of a party and keeping the pranks from turning sour, making sure he has the best night possible and that he remembers who he is. He’s George, he’s her Earless, he’s not half a birthday pair.
Oliver asks once if George really is all right with it, because he says George looks miles better than he has, and Pansy only shrugs. He’s as all right with it as he is with everything else these days, but she’s only known him since the war.
George has his moments, Pansy says, but they never last long.
Still, it’s two years of him slipping away before he tells her what he’s doing. When he does, she’s not surprised.
And every year forward for as long as she has him, she slips away herself, sets out a slice of cake just for her Earless, then one again for Fred.
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Date: 2012-04-21 02:19 pm (UTC)Word Count: 129
Warning/Rating: None, General Public.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Ginny Weasley-as a kid, Molly, and mentions of the Weasley brothers.
“There was supposed to be cake.” Ginny whined.
“There’ll be cake next year. Mommy just can’t make another right now.” Molly said, sounding exhausted.
“I hate them! They’re horrible and they’re never nice to me.” Ginny said, walking up the stairs.
“That’s not true. I know what they did was mean and unthoughtful, but they love you Ginny.”
“No, they don’t. It’s my birthday, and they ate my cake!” Ginny said, her tone reminding Molly of herself, so stubborn and determined. If her girl didn’t end up in Gryffindor, Molly would personally see to it that the sorting hat would be replaced. It took some bravery for a four year old girl to stand up to her six older brothers, yelling at them for ruining her birthday.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-21 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-21 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-21 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-21 07:44 pm (UTC)Word Count: 400
Pairing :Molly/Arthur
”Molly, I swear that if you don’t sit down now I’ll personally make sure to tie you to our bed.” Molly Weasley pulled out a large tray from one of the cupboards, not paying her husband any attention as he huffed and puffed. “I’m serious Molly, I’ll tie you down.”
“What do you want me to do? Sit on my bottom all day as the boys make a mess? I can’t help it, I have to clean.” She never stopped moving around the kitchen, looking for different ingredients.
“This is not cleaning,” Arthur said as he pulled the bag of flour from her hands. Molly tried to hold the bag but had to give up when she knew he would not release it.
“It’s craving,” she answered shortly and searched for the chocolate bars. “I want chocolate cake.” Arthur placed the flour down on the counter and walked closer to her. When he was standing right next to her he placed his hand on her large belly.
“If its chocolate cake you want then why don’t you ask me to make it, or go out and buy one since you know my baking isn’t half as good as yours?” Molly smiled sweetly, placed her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a hug. When she was done she held his face with both her hands and kissed him, showing him just how much she loved him.
“Alright, why don’t you make a cake?” She could instantly see that he was nervous, he had after all never even needed to boil an egg, not as long as Molly was home.
“If that is what you wish Mollywobbles, then I’ll do it. Anything for you, the mother of my six children, soon seven.” They smiled sweetly at each other a few seconds before all hell broke loose. Ron suddenly started crying, the twins were arguing about a toy that Percy had, and Charlie and Bill ran into the house after a bloody and muddy Quidditch match.
“You better make it a large cake,” Molly told her husband. Quickly she sent the two eldest into the bathroom to take a shower, removed the toy from the three that were fighting over it and picked up Ron, who would soon not be her youngest. With a smile she sat down in her large and comfortable chair, exhausted but happy about her life.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-21 08:23 pm (UTC)They didn’t talk about it.
Didn’t talk about how they seemed to find their way to each other’s beds so often, how they got tangled in each other’s lives so easily, almost like they fit, like they mattered to each other so much more than they showed in the light of day.
Harry had gotten used to it; had gotten good at it, in fact.
Or so he told himself, until –
He found a chocolate cake on the coffee table in the living room one Friday evening. Harry looked at it curiously and then walked up to the table. There was a note that read, please, be my boyfriend, yours, Draco.
Harry stared at the short note, a wide smile blooming on his face; so little had been said and yet it meant so damn much.
“So what do you say?”
Draco was standing right behind him and Harry whirled around and kissed him. When they pulled apart, Harry murmured a string of whispered, “yes, yes, yes.”
fill: Pants Parkinson and the cake, pg
Date: 2012-04-21 11:00 pm (UTC)So she never asks him. Assumes if it’s important, if it’s a thing he needs to tell her, he will at some point, because he always does eventually. George keeps his own counsel about most things but he tells her what she needs to know, and she trusts him to keep her as close and informed and whatnot as he needs her to be.
Trust hasn’t come easily to either of them, really, but it has come, and it’s worth so much more for the effort.
It helps that it’s his birthday, and that he gets through his parties with an honest smile on, without flinching or looking haunted or anything. There’s only just one name on the cake now, only one set of candles, and Percy’s Oliver says that’s new.
Even after the war, Percy’s Oliver says, there’d been the expectation there’d be two.
So every year on George’s birthday, she spends the bulk of her night at his side, running the wild piss-up of a party and keeping the pranks from turning sour, making sure he has the best night possible and that he remembers who he is. He’s George, he’s her Earless, he’s not half a birthday pair.
Oliver asks once if George really is all right with it, because he says George looks miles better than he has, and Pansy only shrugs. He’s as all right with it as he is with everything else these days, but she’s only known him since the war.
George has his moments, Pansy says, but they never last long.
Still, it’s two years of him slipping away before he tells her what he’s doing. When he does, she’s not surprised.
And every year forward for as long as she has him, she slips away herself, sets out a slice of cake just for her Earless, then one again for Fred.