Ch. 27: Spilt Secrets

Song For Chapter: All Comes Down — Kodaline

      Fred and I slowly climbed down the stairs. With every stair my foot touched, my heart pounded harder and harder. In my mind, I pictured Molly slapping Fred and I on the knuckles, yelling at us for a little while, maybe even crying.

      I didn't know what to expect, but I was certainly worried either way. I respected Molly too much and, thought I wouldn't ever consider changing the day Fred and I joined together as one being, I did feel terrible that Molly hadn't been there as a witness to that day.

     I'm sure she would have loved it.

     Breathe, I reminded myself, sucking in large lungfuls of air and holding it there, hoping that my heart would slow. At the foot of the stairs, Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley beamed up at the two of us.

     "Oh, Elle dear, I'm happy to see you're all right!" She gushed, pulling me into her arms with a warm hug.

      Beside his wife, Arthur waved with a smile and I waved back with a cherry hello, trying my damnedest not to look scared for my remaining few, spare moments of life.

     Aunt Muriel shot the two of us a withering glare before stealing the attention of Mr Weasley, pulling him into conversation about the Ministry and other affairs.

      "Mum", Fred began, walking down the stairs to tuck an arm around his mother's shoulder, "lets make some tea yeah? You look parched from your journey."

     Mrs Weasley and I both frowned at his odd choice of wording and she cast her husband a calculating look. "Fred, dear, is there something the matter?"

     Tucking my hair behind my ears, I rushed beside the two of them, brushing off Molly's prodded question with an uneccessary laugh. I had never felt so plastic in my life. "No, no. Fred's just, er, Fred."

     Pause.
       Heartbeat.

     With her brow furrowed even deeper, Molly watched the two of us in a stress filled quiet, but eventually sighed it off with a softness to her eyes, allowing her son to lead her into the kitchen.

     "I can fix it myself, Fred." Molly brushed off the clinging arm that Fred had attached around her shoulder, turning towards myself. "Would you like some, Elle? I know it's late, but I do love a good cup o'tea before bed."

A tad too eagerly, I whipped my head up and down. "That would be lovely," I managed to stop nodding and instead settled on sitting myself down onto one of the wooden chairs that sat around the small kitchen table. Though  Aunt Muriel's house was large, the table only seated so many.

I paused in my fear filled thoughts to wonder if Muriel had a lot of friends.

Molly put the black, fire charred kettle on the fire and began to rummage through the cabinets in search of some tea leaves while fred lowered himself down into a chair beside myself, shooting me a wink.

I knew that he meant for it to be reassuring, and I smiled tightly back at him for it, but it didn't do much to calm me down.

"I know she's got some tea somewhere in this place," Mrs Weasley sighed before giving up her search and using her wand to locate it.

A medium sized glass jar of exotic looking leaves flew out from the midst of the cabinet and lightly landed in Molly's awaiting palm, to her delight. "Dragonsnap," she told me, "one of my favourites."

Humming a tune I didn't know under her breath, Molly absentmindedly spooned a few measures of tea into two mugs.

I eyed Fred. It was now or never.

The thought of having a second "real" wedding didn't seem like such a terrible idea, actually.

"Uh, Mum," Fred awkwardly trailed on as Molly grabbed the two mugs and put them on the counter beside the casually brewing water.

"Yes, dear?" She doesn't turn around, which is comforting to me. It was a rotten feeling, but I wasn't quite sure I could manage to say the truth to her face. I didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes. Those kind eyes.

     "You know how Elle and I are engaged?"

     "Of course." Molly nodded, turning to watch the two of us with an arched brow.

     I wanted to slam my head into the wood of the table, maybe it'd trigger the concussion I'd received a long time ago and I would peacefully slip into another coma.

     Hermione had mentioned once that I needed to be particularly careful nowadays, not that I bothered to listen.

     Of course Fred had to be so obviously secretive about the whole ordeal. I just wanted it ripped off like a bandage.

     Molly's gaze flickered from placid and calm to suddenly worried as she quickly pulled the kettle off the fire as it began to steam and boil. "Oh no. Please do not tell me you two have split."

     With an oddly chipper tone, Fred eagerly assured his mom that no, that wasn't the issue. "No, Mum, don't worry about that happening; Elle and I love each other. Very much."

     Molly was focused on the both of us entirely now, the steaming mugs of tea long forgotten. "Then, what is it?"

     "Elle has something she'd like to tell you."

     "W-what?!" I balked, suddenly aware that Molly's eyes were trained on myself and I could barely think as it was.

     "Only joking, Elle."

     If I hadn't been frozen under the spot light of Molly Weasley's 'no nonsense' gaze, I probably would have twitched under the pressure, or passed out due to stress as my heart crashed more and more violently against my ribs.

      There was no way I was taking the fall for this. Before game had tied the knot, he'd promised he'd take the blame. I made sure of it. I wasn't planning on facing the wrath of Mrs Weasley alone.

       Crossing her arms over her chest, Molly's worry turned to motherly anger. "Frederick Weasley, you tell me this instant what you have done. If it has something to do with putting this family in danger, you'd best come clean --"

     "-- Elle and I have gotten married."

Of all the scenarios I had envisioned, silence hadn't been the one I was most afraid of. Yet, as the room drew deafly silent, I could hear my heart beating through my chest.

The three of us didn't make a sound. Fred and I radiated closer to each other, unsure of how Molly was processing the information through her stoney exterior.

Then, after a hundred years of silence, Molly laughed.

"I'm sorry dear, what was that?"

"Mum," Fred said, level voice intact, "Elle and I have gotten married."

Molly's eyes darted playfully from her son to me and back again, unsure if he was having a laugh or not. "But, but we've only just seen each other a few months ago. You were engaged then, what changed?"

I ducked my head, feeling like a terrible person. "It just... it felt right."

Molly stopped smiling.

She played with the ring on her finger and sized up the two of us, mouth opening and closing as I prepared myself for the rant of the century.

However, Mrs Weasley merely fired off questions rapidly, taking both of us by surprise.

"Where'd you do it? In a church? At the shop? Who married you? Was it just the two of you, alone?"

The way she said alone was worried, wounded almost, like she was afraid that we had not had anyone to witness our joining.

"Not alone," I quickly assured her with a soft, painful smile, "we did it at Bill and Fleur's and they were there as well as George and Blake and Lana and Jenna." After a pause and a prodding nod from Fred, I also added: "Blake married us."

Molly sat down, blinking slowly as she set the cups of hot tea on the table in front of her. I could tell she was disappointed, and that was probably what hurt me the most as I looked away from her and instead looked to my twisted hands as they knotted and unknotted, trying not to look either of them in the eye.

"I wish you had waited, I must admit, Fred."

"Mum, I'm sorry."

     She sighed and rested a hand under her chin, staring down at her ring finger with a soft expression. I couldn't read it.

"It's all right dear. I just was hoping for a beautiful wedding with a marvelous dress and the whole family there." The nostalgic nature of her tone took me by surprise. My heart beat was slowly returning back to normal with steadying breaths as she explained further. "When your dad and I got married, we eloped out of fear of time -- I didn't want you kids to do that too."

"I didn't want you to rush it," Molly admitted as she took my hand, clasping it tightly. "I didn't want you to regret not having your family there," she said, looking at the both of us.

I frowned, feeling pained at her words. Molly hadn't been angry or hurt, and I felt like a terrible person for even considering she would have been.

     Like always, Molly Weasley was the woman she had always been to me: kind, sympathetic, and motherly.

It was her concern for our happiness that touched my heart and raised a tear to my eye. Sniffling, I squeezed her hand and shot her a beaming grin.

"Thank you, Molly. But, please don't think that I regret our decision," I admitted wholeheartedly, turning to lock eyes with Fred, my husband, "I can't speak for your son, of course, but it was the most beautiful wedding I could have hoped for. My only regret is that you weren't there to witness it."

"And who's fault is that, I ask?" Molly quipped, shooting Fred a speculative glare.

"Mum, if you want, Elle and I were planning on having a second ceremony, with the whole family, after the fighting's through."

I added another layer of sweetness to the cake at the weary glance she tossed her son. "And, I was hoping you would help plan it."

Fred clapped a hand on my shoulder, letting out a tight laugh as he leaned in to my ear, whispering heatedly under his breath, "Elle, you're not seri--"

"Of course I am!" I cheered, a fake pep in my tone. Fred caught the sharpness behind the cheer in my eyes and quickly dropped it, settling on a fake simper.

"Right, right. Mum, only if you want, of course."

"Oh no, I couldn't," Molly waved the thought off as she sipped at her discarded tea. Fred sighed in relief beside me, which I felt was a tad melodramatic, even for him. "But," Molly set her cup down and flashed her son a motherly, closed lip smile, "perhaps I could, after all it's my son Frederick Weasley. You and George have taken me by surprise, finding solid girlfriends."

I laughed at that one, a real genuine laugh that sparked one from Fred and his mother, echoing through the whole house at the early hours of the morning.

It sounded nice.

It sounded like family.

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(Sorry it's so short)