100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,615
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,615
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Lovers
Title: Lovers
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, Fluffy?
Warnings: Molly being sexy. ^_^
Summary: #23 – Lovers. They had started out as lovers.
Word Count: 611 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. I am not sure if someone suggested this, if so, step forward so I can snoodle you!
Prompt 23 – Lovers
Sometimes he forgot that they had started out as lovers. After so many years, it seemed to Arthur Weasley that they had so little time as lovers.
When he thought back, they had been ‘lovers’ at Hogwarts before the responsibility of adulthood was truly felt upon their shoulders. Hours whiled away by the shore of the Black Lake, kissing her soft lips. That had only been the beginning in their Fifth Year. In Sixth Year, he had made love to her behind one of the greenhouses during the Halloween Feast. It had been clumsy, neither of them truly knowing how to ‘make love’ only using instinct to guide them. Every private moment after that night had been spent on refining touches, kisses, thrusts, and moans. In Seventh Year, they were truly lovers, finding pleasure in each other, knowing just where to kiss, where to touch.
When they were married not long after Seventh Year, they were lovers still. However, being able to say ‘my wife—my husband’ destroyed the fantasy bit by bit. They were no longer lovers, but married.
Arthur wondered why it had to be that way. They were poor, but happy. They were together, but something began to change. They did not realize how much things had changed until their first son was born. They were no longer lovers, they were parents
Arthur had wanted to start over, again and again, and somehow it always resulted in another child. Arthur loved his children, he loved his wife for loving their children, yet, he wondered why everything had to change from those listless days when he and Molly were lovers.
The War came, and Arthur cleaved to his family, his most precious thing. Molly was his warrior wife, so strong, so beautiful in his eyes that he wanted more than anything to take her away, keep her to himself—his lover. Even when a strained peace fell, Arthur felt so separated from her, as if a final chord had been cut. Molly was the mother, the rock, the constant. She was needed, depended upon. Arthur could only watch as they both grew older.
He was a grandfather, he was giving away his only daughter at her wedding, he was bouncing more babies on his knee, he was getting old and wistful.
“Arthur?”
The Burrow was empty except for them. It was the first time since before Bill was born. The silence frightened him as he sat at the kitchen table, reading and rereading the same line in the Prophet.
“Yes, dear?” he asked, distracted from even Molly’s voice.
When the newspaper was Vanished from his hands, Arthur realized that he had been sitting for hours trying to remember something—it was gone at the sight of his wife.
“Ahem,” she coughed.
Molly was sitting on the far end of the scrubbed tabletop, her lovely, long auburn hair down about her shoulders. She wore her old school uniform, a feat impossible in the years past. The War had thinned her out, and as much as it bothered Arthur to see his wife in such a state…
“Mollywobbles…” he muttered, blinking rapidly.
Even in her late fifties, she was still as incandescently beautiful as the first time he laid eyes upon her in their First Year.
He had been so wrong, it was not the first time, and it would not be the last. Rising from his seat, he moved along the side of the table, his fingers finding the pleated hem of her skirt.
Life had a strange way of coming round in cycles, he mused as he kissed her sweet mouth. Lovers in the beginning, lovers until the end.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, Fluffy?
Warnings: Molly being sexy. ^_^
Summary: #23 – Lovers. They had started out as lovers.
Word Count: 611 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. I am not sure if someone suggested this, if so, step forward so I can snoodle you!
Prompt 23 – Lovers
Sometimes he forgot that they had started out as lovers. After so many years, it seemed to Arthur Weasley that they had so little time as lovers.
When he thought back, they had been ‘lovers’ at Hogwarts before the responsibility of adulthood was truly felt upon their shoulders. Hours whiled away by the shore of the Black Lake, kissing her soft lips. That had only been the beginning in their Fifth Year. In Sixth Year, he had made love to her behind one of the greenhouses during the Halloween Feast. It had been clumsy, neither of them truly knowing how to ‘make love’ only using instinct to guide them. Every private moment after that night had been spent on refining touches, kisses, thrusts, and moans. In Seventh Year, they were truly lovers, finding pleasure in each other, knowing just where to kiss, where to touch.
When they were married not long after Seventh Year, they were lovers still. However, being able to say ‘my wife—my husband’ destroyed the fantasy bit by bit. They were no longer lovers, but married.
Arthur wondered why it had to be that way. They were poor, but happy. They were together, but something began to change. They did not realize how much things had changed until their first son was born. They were no longer lovers, they were parents
Arthur had wanted to start over, again and again, and somehow it always resulted in another child. Arthur loved his children, he loved his wife for loving their children, yet, he wondered why everything had to change from those listless days when he and Molly were lovers.
The War came, and Arthur cleaved to his family, his most precious thing. Molly was his warrior wife, so strong, so beautiful in his eyes that he wanted more than anything to take her away, keep her to himself—his lover. Even when a strained peace fell, Arthur felt so separated from her, as if a final chord had been cut. Molly was the mother, the rock, the constant. She was needed, depended upon. Arthur could only watch as they both grew older.
He was a grandfather, he was giving away his only daughter at her wedding, he was bouncing more babies on his knee, he was getting old and wistful.
“Arthur?”
The Burrow was empty except for them. It was the first time since before Bill was born. The silence frightened him as he sat at the kitchen table, reading and rereading the same line in the Prophet.
“Yes, dear?” he asked, distracted from even Molly’s voice.
When the newspaper was Vanished from his hands, Arthur realized that he had been sitting for hours trying to remember something—it was gone at the sight of his wife.
“Ahem,” she coughed.
Molly was sitting on the far end of the scrubbed tabletop, her lovely, long auburn hair down about her shoulders. She wore her old school uniform, a feat impossible in the years past. The War had thinned her out, and as much as it bothered Arthur to see his wife in such a state…
“Mollywobbles…” he muttered, blinking rapidly.
Even in her late fifties, she was still as incandescently beautiful as the first time he laid eyes upon her in their First Year.
He had been so wrong, it was not the first time, and it would not be the last. Rising from his seat, he moved along the side of the table, his fingers finding the pleated hem of her skirt.
Life had a strange way of coming round in cycles, he mused as he kissed her sweet mouth. Lovers in the beginning, lovers until the end.