The moment Arthur & or Molly realizes Harry is in love with Ginny
Please accept three takes on this prompt for the price of one as a token of our appreciation for you, bestie!
@sophie-hatter-jenkins intepretation can be read here.
@ginnyw-potter can be found here.
And my humble addition is below:
Arthur had first noticed it the Christmas before last. It has been impossible to miss the way Harryâs eyes had followed Ginny around the Burrow that year.
He could claim no great wisdom of fatherhood that had driven him to the obvious conclusion. No, his sons had kept their romantic conquests a safe distance from the Burrow â aside from Bill, who had not been shy in his affection for Fleur â but Arthur had once been a young man in love, and he remembered, with acute recollection, exactly how he had clung to every scrap of attention Molly had deigned to throw his way.
If the circumstances had been different, it may have been comical to see the same lovestruck preoccupation overtake Harry after watching Ginnyâs silent yearning for so many painful adolescent years.
But circumstances had, unfortunately, robbed the moment of any humour.
Arthur had watched, with heavy anxiety, the charged looks that had passed between Ginny â his youngest, and most formidable child â and Harry â the child heâd accidentally, but happily, acquired â in the lead up to Bill and Fleurâs wedding.
Heâd witnessed, with a heavy heart, Ginnyâs steadfast attempts to appear unaffected in the dark months that had separated them.
Now, with the battle won. and the scars fresh, but primed to heal, Arthur had breathed a sigh of relief to see the pair of them come together again.
He smiled quietly to himself as Harry took Ginnyâs hand, leading her out of the backdoor after another sombre breakfast, the latest in a series of silent meals in the Burrowâs kitchen in the short weeks that had passed since the battle.
âDonât you think theyâre moving a bit too fast?â Molly asked, throwing him an uneasy look across the kitchen table as the door clicked shut behind the young couple.
Sheâd always been prone to worrying. A true mother, she had sheltered and protected his children even in the very darkest of times. His heart ached to see her renewed protectiveness in the face of losing one of them.
âI think itâs good that they have each other,â he said evenly, willing his hand not to shake where it gripped the morning edition of The Prophet.
Mollyâs knitting needles clicked anxiously against one another. âThey might be setting one another up for another heartache.â
Arthur let the paper fall to the checkered tablecloth. âHeartache isnât the worst thing in the world.â
There wasnât a hint of doubt in his voice. He had been surviving through the agony of his own heartbreak for weeks, since the moment he looked into Fredâs lifeless eyes and known his little boy was never ever coming back. Painful, as it might be, his heartache was a manifestation of how deeply Arthur loved his son, and he could not â would not â bring himself to regret that pain.
âTheyâre so young,â Molly argued, shaking her head. A tear, one of many that had fallen in the last few weeks, dropped from her cheek to the small onesie sheâd been knitting for Teddy.
âSo were we once,â Arthur reminded her.
It felt like centuries ago. The world had been in turmoil then too, but Arthur had been sure that if he could keep Molly close they would come through it, safe and whole.
Sheâd lost her brothers, but that had been in sacrifice to a cause that would secure a future for their children.
And now, theyâd lost one of their children too. There was an ache, a chasm, in Arthurâs chest that had pried open upon seeing Fredâs body in the Great Hall that had once meant safety and security, that he was sure would never, ever heal again.
âThat was different,â Molly said stubbornly, her eyes so like Ginnyâs, as they flashed with a flame that no circumstances seemed capable of extinguishing.
Arthur's eyes wandered to the window, looking out on the untidy backyard. They settled on Harry, clad in his brand new scarlet Auror finery, where he leant against the crooked fence. Ginny was leaning against him.
Even from a distance, Arthur could see the solemn quality to their expressions as they gazed at one another.
It was a feeling he remembered well, one heâd experienced when heâd brought Molly here for the first time and promised a safe haven for the family they were going to grow in the centre of a tumultuous world.
âYes,â Arthur agreed, watching Harryâs thumb sweep tenderly across his daughterâs cheek in the yard beyond the window. âItâs different now.â
Now, the darkness had been defeated. Now, there was hope. Now, everything Arthur had promised Molly as a naive young man could come to pass for the young couple before him.
It didnât heal the ache inside him. He wasnât sure anything could do that, in the face of the unendurable loss of one of his children, but it was hope, and, for now, that was enough.
