#apv-arthurweasley

[thoroughly-magnificent-millie]

Vetting // Millie & Arthur // January 25, 1979

Millicent Bagnold never had doubts about decisions she made. It wasn't because she never made mistakes or made decisions worth regretting. She knew, though, that it was pointless to dwell on things. If she made a wrong decision, she moved on. She didn't have time to look back on things already done and wonder if another path would have been better.

Not that she was regretting a decision, or doubting herself, now. Gideon was a good choice. She'd had her research done, she'd had her people look into him in the twelve hours she'd given him to look over the files. If there was something that would make him unfit for what she wanted him to do, it would have come up by now.

But she had an idea. Professionally, she could have his life analyzed to pieces and find anything that anyone else could find looking in the same way. But personally, well, personally was a different matter. The words on paper and inferences drawn from records weren't the same as what personal connections could say about Gideon. Politics tended to forget about family like that. And Gideon's brother-in-law, a man she'd worked with before every time her department coincided with his, was in the building.

Millicent didn't make rash decisions. But she was not someone to waste time. "Isabel," she said, pausing by the girl's desk on her way out, "I've got something to address with Arthur Weasley. Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, level two. You have until I get there to let him know I'm on my way." Declarations like that would have irritated any secretary that wasn't Isabel Dunn; Isabel was quick and liked a challenge.

She had no way of knowing if the girl had alerted Arthur in time, but knocked on the door to his office and stepped in when the latch gave way and it opened under the force of her knuckle's rapping. "Do you have a moment, Arthur?" Millicent asked, unruffled by the close quarters of his office, a vast change from her own. "I'd like to ask your opinion on a matter."

[burbage-between-worlds]

❖ ♣ ♧

❖ for my character’s personal thoughts about yours

He’s always made me feel…normal. Or at least he did before—but despite that, he’s still one of the warmest men I’ve ever met. He’s so full of life and curiosity. You don’t meet that kind of exuberance very often. He’s also a wonderful father. I could only ever dream of having a father like Arthur. I hope his children know how very lucky they are, because he listens. He truly wants what’s best for the people he cares about, but he’s brave and he doesn’t hesitate to step into the line of fire if necessary. I admire him. Even though he handed me over to the aurors, he was doing what he thought was right and I can’t begrudge him that...

♣ for my characters thoughts during any general conversation between your and my character

Are you going to hate me forever? I miss talking to you. I miss having someone to share all of my muggle discoveries with. No one else gets it. No one else cares, not really. Some people will nod at me—they’re just trying to be polite though. Its not like when I could chat with you. I miss that. I miss my friend. I’m so sorry I let you down Arthur, you’ll never know how very sorry…

♧ for my character’s reaction if your character were to express romantic interest in my character

“Bloody hell, what were you drinking Arthur? Come on, lets go find the potions master on the main floor.” Because that was the only explanation for such a ridiculous declaration. He loved Molly to distraction. Outside of Molly his children consumed the rest of his time—and he thought she was a traitor. “When are you going to learn that muggles like to spike their tea with random potions that they think will make them feel  better, but really they have no idea what it does?” She batted at his hands and nodded to someone stepping off the lift before pushing him. “Alright, lets go get this mess sorted shall we?”

[hardasbones]

Weee-geee || Arthur & Amelia || December 28, 1978

Amelia frowned at the muggle game, another one of their many misinterpretations of magic, and heaved a heavy sigh. Her mother was muggle born, it shouldn't be this difficult. The problem was the blasted thing just didn't make sense to her - how could a Ouija board predict anything? It was laminated cardboard and a piece of plastic. Ghosts were nothing like the muggles seemed to think they were, if they wanted to talk to someone they wouldn't use a board like that. How could they move the plastic around? They'd just pass through it. 

And yet nearly every muggle she'd spoken to was spooked by this so called game. Even those who claimed not to believe in it tended to be wary of it and did not want to try it out for themselves. 

It was an odd line of thinking for the hit witch, but ever since a cursed Ouija board had come across her desk, she'd been curious about them. The curse hadn't been serious, it'd simply been hexed to predict the death of everyone who touched it. Juvenile, really, except it caused such an uproar that a few unlucky muggles actually died. Not because of magic or the curse, but because they believed they were cursed and ended up doing something stupid and getting hurt. 

Why?

If anyone could explain what made this bit of cardboard and plastic more frightening than the others, it was Arthur Weasley. Despite being a pureblood, he probably knew more random muggle trivia than most muggleborns. The curiosity was killing her, she had to know. Grabbing a quill and a small bit of parchment, she penned him a note and sent it off with her owl. 

Arthur,  Hope you and the family had a fantastic Christmas (or at least that it was less tense than the Christmas party!) I've got a random question I was hoping you could answer - nothing serious, just a muggle game thing that I don't understand and I thought you might be able to explain. If you've got some free time, let me know and I'll bring it over to show you. --Amelia

There. At least she'd asked and perhaps by this time tomorrow she would understand what it was about these things that made them so intimidating. Maybe they were just all cursed and that's what the muggles were sensing.

[apv-arthurweasley]

Happy Christmas, Dear

Christmas morning was a chaotic affair to say the least. Wrapping paper was strewn across the floor and as usual Molly didn’t expect to find all of it until weeks later tucked into corners.  The boys were all absorbed with their presents (or tearing up the paper in their parents laps in the case of Fred and George), so she figured now was the best time to give Art his gifts.  Taking George from her husband she called Bill over to bring over the small stack of gifts.  

First was an envelope filled with cards that the boys had made for him one day while he was at work.  Charlie had been so proud of his handiwork that he’d wanted to give it to Daddy as soon as he got home, but Molly had hidden it away so it could be given today.

Also in the envelope was Molly’s own letter, a piece of parchment she’d written quickly while Art had attempted to get the boys to sleep the night before.

Arthur,

I know you said that we weren’t going to have a big Christmas this year and that we were going to focus on making it good for the boys, but I don’t care.  I know things are tight but they aren’t that tight to where you can’t have a good Christmas too.  I know your favorite sweater was past the point of saving, so hopefullyone of these will be a good replacement.  

I know I haven’t been as supportive of you as I should have recently in regards to your work.  I’ve been wrong about that.  There are going to be nights when you have to bring things home to get them done so you should have something to carry them in.  It’s not new, but it’s still nice and I put a few charms on it for space and protection and all that.  It’s about time you had something nice to take to work.

And finally the work situation isn’t the only thing I’ve been wrong about.  I had a little chat with the boys and they all agree that having a pet would be a nice thing around the house (I took the twins giggles and claps and the other’s excitement as their own yes).  I went down to the village with them one day and each of the boys picked one out for you.  I told them you got to name them though.  The farmer is holding them until we get the coop and yard set up.  There was no way I could have hidden that from you.  But soon Delilah, Margaret and Betty will be new additions to the family.  Also, it’s a good thing I didn’t want any of those names just in case we had a little girl somewhere down the road.  But I think they are perfectly good names for chickens.

It’s not much, but it’s the thought that matters, right?  I hope you enjoy your Christmas and I look forward to all the rest of the Christmas’s we’re going to have with our family.  I couldn’t imagine a better man to spend them with.

Love Always, 

Molly

He was shocked at the parcels, because they’d agreed that they wouldn’t, he’d broken the rules too but she’d gone out of her way. Immediately he slipped on the knitted jumper and claimed it as his own, curling the too long sleeves to form a cuff. She did it on purpose and he loved it. The satchel was perfect, his old one was breaking and no amount of magic would fix it properly. As for the chickens, he couldn't wait, that wasn't just a gift but another commitment that they would share together (he'd get the cleaning and looking after but Molly had the eggs). Art would wait until the time was right to give Molly her gifts.