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Frippery by 123sarah456

Format: Novel
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 2,443
Status: WIP

Rating: 12+
Warnings: Mild Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Drama, Romance, Young Adult
Characters: Arthur, Molly, OtherCanon
Pairings: Arthur/Molly, Other Pairing

First Published: 08/08/2009
Last Chapter: 09/25/2009
Last Updated: 09/25/2009

Summary:
“I’m not obsessed with stuff, I just like my…frippery,” huffed Molly. “Frippery?” Arthur repeated. “Yes,” she confirmed. She stood stoutly, waiting for the witty comeback. But she got none. Instead, she got a kiss on the lips. Frippery indeed.




Chapter 1: I'm Back
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“Gideon! Fabian! Watch out for your sister!” called Mrs. Prewett, standing daintily beside her husband on the train platform and waving a monogrammed handkerchief in the smoky air.

In the dirty hustle and bustle of Platform 9 and ¾, Elizabeth Prewett looked very out of place. Not only did her natural looks speak of orderly, neat ways, she was dressed in immaculate, neutral tan robes with the slightest gold embroidery embellishments on the color and hem; personal touch, Elizabeth was fond of saying. A personal touch that, her only and youngest daughter Molly couldn’t help thinking, was very different from the brown-cloaked and grey-robed parents with apple-cheeked mothers and rushing fathers. The Prewetts were the picture of perfection.

That year was a special one. That year, Molly Louise Prewett was going to Hogwarts. Her twin brothers, serious, shy Fabian and impulsive, annoying Gideon were entering their second year.
Molly’s chubby face warmed to bright red as her mother’s cry
proceeded her brothers arrival onto the train.

“Hear that Molls? We have to watch out for you,” snorted Fabian.

“Fun,” chortled Gideon evilly.

“Don’t,” warned Molly dangerously and chose an empty compartment to sit in while her brothers meandered away from each other in opposite directions to find their appropriate friends.

Molly waved out the window and sighed. Just then, two girls that didn’t look anything alike stomped into the compartment. They looked to be about Molly’s age and Molly couldn’t help but think that they were very pretty.

“Olivia! No! No! And no!” the blonde one was shrieking to the dark-haired one.

“Alina…it’d be so much fun though,” cried Olivia, shaking her dark brown locks out of her heart-shaped face.
Another moment later and the strangest looking girl Molly had ever seen tripped in and silently hid herself in her book, as far away from the two bickering girls as possible.

Molly was about to speak when yet another young girl glided in and, looking very comfortable and not at all shy, plopped down beside Molly with an upward twist of her pale pink lips.

“So,” Dorcas Meadowes began. “Who are you, people?”




“Molly! Molly Prewett!” hissed an impatient voice in Molly’s ear. Molly sat up quickly from her slumped position on the table, giving the leaned over Dorcas Meadowes a clunk on the chin.

“Ow,” snapped Dorcas, glaring at Molly.

“Sorry, Dorcas. Just having momentary flashbacks,” apologized Molly, blinking her brown eyes rapidly many times.

“Less flashbacks, more living in the present! Now, what I was trying to tell you was that you’ve got another redhead to accompany you in Hogwarts,” revealed Dorcas twitching her bruised chin toward a group of first-years.

Indeed, a tiny girl in the front of the Gryffindor pack had a shocking head of dark red hair, slightly different from the orange red of Molly’s.

“Oh! Did they already do the Sorting?” asked Molly in surprise.

Dorcas looked at her with nothing short of ‘duh’ in her expression. “You were seriously spacing out,” she muttered.

Fawn, who had been listening to their conversation from the other side of Molly, leaned in and whispered in Molly’s ear, “The girls are Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, Alice Kaplin, Vita Rossi and Evanna Court. The boys are James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Yanni Sykes.”

“Look how tiny the girl named Alice is,” murmured Alina, facing Molly from across the table.

“She’s mini,” agreed her twin, Olivia.

“Which one is she?” asked Molly, feeling very out of it.

“The one with the sandy hair,” replied Fawn.

“Oh.” Molly spotted her and in fact, she was an extremely small girl, barely half of one of the boys.

“She’s so cute,” whispered Alina.

“I bet you, people said that about me when I was in first-year,” huffed Olivia smugly.

“I bet you they didn’t,” hissed Alina back and the twins began bickering, as was their wont.

Molly looked around at her four friends whom she had all met on their first train ride to Hogwarts. She had grown up with them from a ripe, mere age of eleven and now…now this was their last year. They were all seventeen, all adults in the magical world. Molly sighed again and her mind drifted off once more, therefore missing Dumbledore’s welcome-back speech.

She was jolted from more memories by a sharp elbow in her ribs (executed by Dorcas) and the appearance of delicious food on the table. As the five friends dug into the banquet, Molly felt the chatter and laughter of all the students swirl in the Hall, floating to the ceiling before losing itself and floundering away in broken wisps.

Alina interrupted her redhead’s friend poetic contemplation.

“Those poor house-elves overdo themselves in the feast. I feel so bad for them sometimes,” she said once she had swallowed a bite of chicken Caesar salad.

“Alina, I’ve been to the kitchens! They don’t mind. It’s been their job since the beginning of time and will be to the end,” snorted Olivia around a mouthful of some type of casserole.

“You talk as if you thought them slaves,” sniffed Alina, ladling a small portion of golden mushroom broth into a bowl.

Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Ali! They are slaves! They need to do their master’s bidding and what’s more, they do it gladly. They wouldn’t be happy not working.”

“Have you ever asked them that?” challenged Alina.

“No but I have been to the kitchens and-” Olivia was cut off.

“You’ve been to the kitchens?” growled Alina dangerously.

“She mentioned that earlier too,” piped in Fawn but then thought better of going on when Alina’s light grey eyes swept their glare to her.

“That’s against the rules, Liv,” reprimanded Alina.

“It’s true,” added Molly. Olivia gave her a glare that clearly said what she thought of Molly in this instant: a betrayer.

Molly held both hands up innocently before gulping down a portion of mashed potatoes. Fawn and Dorcas leaned forward excitedly to watch the twin showdown.

“Alina. Tons of people have gone down to the kitchens. Everybody at least has friends who have gone. You’re the only one who despises the thought of breaking rules,” rattled off Olivia, not looking very concerned.

“Olivia Barton! You know as well as I do that I have only write Mother a simple hint in my next letter and you’ll get a school-humiliating Howler from her!” cried Alina, fed up.

Olivia paled visibly and it was with an effort that she swallowed another bite of caressrole.

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“Watch me,” retorted Alina smugly.

Olivia tried a different approach.

“And who says Mother’s going to believe you?” At this, Alina, Molly, Fawn and Dorcas laughed. Olivia sighed and looked stumped, fresh out of ideas.

The twins’ mother would naturally believe calm, mature, soft-spoken Alina much more readily than fiery, impulsive, not-so-tactful Olivia.

“Do I really need to answer that?” giggled Alina and thankfully let the subject drop, much to Olivia’s evident gratefullness.

Five boys sidled over from the other side of the table, bringing heaped-with-food plates with them. They were the other seventh-years of Slytherin.

“Hullo, gals!” cried Dominic Dougan.

Simultaneously, all five girls rolled their eyes at comical, laid-back boy who had been their friend since first-year and never failed to address them as ‘gals’ in what he thought was a posh, American Texan accent (though Molly didn’t know what Texan meant. She wasn’t all that fond of geography.)

“Hi, Dom,” replied Fawn, buttering a garlic roll.

“I’m bored,” came a very, well bored sounding voice from Alina’s side.

“Suck it up,” said Dorcas unfeelingly to Colin Crosby, Hogwart’s ultimate ‘play-boy’, for lack of a better term.

“Dork is being mean,” complained Colin but then he grinned at her and Dorcas let the rude but inevitable joke on her rather odd name pass (for perhaps the first time since first year.)

“I’m bored,” echoed another voice and Colin’s best mate, Arthur Weasley, dropped down beside Molly, looking disgruntled.

“What happened, Weasley? Did a girl finally resist your “good looks”?” asked
Olivia sarcastically, putting air quotes around ‘good looks’.

Arthur snorted. “You wish. Want me all for yourself, Liv.” He grinned and they all laughed. This type of bickering/flirting was common among the ten seventh-years of Gryffindor who long since had settled on the undisputed fact that none of these playful flirtations were to be taken seriously. After all, Arthur had a girlfriend and as did Olivia (a boyfriend that is) so it would hardly be considered very good manners.

“Charlie, will you ever stop eating?” asked Molly in astonishment. The fourth of the five guys, Charles Clearsing, was undeniably a pig. It might sound harsh but he was. Ever since second-year (when he reached his growth spurt, as he called it) he had never stopped eating. That was probably the reason he was standing at a huge six feet and three inches. However, he never weighed a drop over 135 pounds. It was probably because of all the Quidditch he played (Charlie had played Chaser since second-year.)

“Molls! I’m a growing-” Charlie was cut off by all nine other seventh-years who finished the well-known sentence. “-boy that needs his food and you’re just a jealous person because you’re itty bitty and short.”

The seventh-years erupted into laughter and drew a lot of curious glances, mostly from the first-years. Unlike other first-years from years past, only two of these looked remotely scared and uncomfortable, the boy named Peter and the boy named Yanni. The others seemed quite at home.

“You’d think he’d stop growing after five years or so,” muttered Molly. “Six,” amended Fawn which drew another laugh out of everyone.

The last boy to speak, studious, small Nathaniel Penn (known was Nate or else) was picking at his black beans.

“What’s up ickle Natey? Someone’s got your ever so knowledgeable tongue?” asked Arthur brightly.

Nate looked up and glowered. “My ever so knowledgeable tongue could best yours in any verbal confrontation,” retorted Nate coolly.

“Don’t use so many big words!” shrieked Colin, covering his ears and shaking his head to rid himself of Nate’s ‘big words’.

“Aw, ol’ Crosby’s in over his head,” drawled Dorcas and ducked the playful blow Colin sent at her head.

“You watch, Dork. I’m going to get you someday,” swore Colin but his customary, trademark smile teased on his face.

“Call me Dork one more time and I’ll hit a Bludger in your direction during practice,” threatened Dorcas.

“And who says you’re going to make the team?” challenged Colin. Dorcas rolled her eyes. “I’ve been Seeker since third-year,” she snorted. “Besides, who says you’re going to make the team?” retorted Dorcas.

“My dear Dorcas Meadowes, you’re looking at the Gryffindor team’s new captain. You must hereby call my Captain Crosby!” announced Colin, delighted.

“Really? Great job,” congratulated Molly and Alina and Fawn, the other two girls who weren’t Quidditch players, applauded politely as well.

Dominic, Charlie and Arthur were the Chasers last year. Colin was (and still is evidently) the Keeper. A sixth-year named, Rowle, and Olivia (who was the first female Beater known for a long time) were the Beaters. Dorcas was the Seeker. Molly’s year was full of Quidditch people. Six out of ten in her year were on the Quidditch team. Molly personally didn’t think much of Quidditch. It was probably because she was rubbish on a broom.

“Ah, look at the time. Must be off to the library,” announced Nate and disappeared a moment after giving his silver Cartier watch a quick glance.

“He’s going to become a book one day,” predicted Arthur, biting into a garlic roll.

“At least he’s a good student. Unlike you, Arthur, and you, Colin,” warned Alina with a growl. Being top in their year since first-year, Alina took grades seriously. Though she didn’t study nearly as much as ‘geeky’ Nate, she always managed to best him in every subject, a fact that never failed to aggravate Nate to near hysterics.

“I’m determined not to fail Potions again this year,” revealed Colin easily.

“You failed Potions?” squeaked Alina in nothing short of horrified disbelief.

“Yup,” he agreed without a morsel of regret or embarassment. Colin, Molly reflected, was seriously in denial about the temper of Simone Alina Barton.

And here it started. Alina narrowed her grey eyes until they were fixed in a permnant glare and her beautiful face twisted into a scowl.

“No need to sound so happy about something your future depends on,” she snapped, biting off the words and adding sufficient emphasis on ‘future’.

“Calm down, Simone.” Colin grinned, knowing the use of her detested first name would rile her and turn her irate.

“You’ll get it one day,” proclaimed Alina and jumped from the table. She slung her ever-present book bag (even though it was the first day at Hogwarts Olivia pointed out in defeat) over one shoulder and strode out briskly, in long, slicing strides.

“You moron. Guess whose going to have to deal with my baby sister tonight?” grumped Olivia, hitting Colin none too lightly on the shoulder.

“Ow,” he complained, not looking the least put-off.

“Beater,” said Olivia, pointing at herself and raising one eyebrow.

“Well you better start playing nice to Gryffindor’s team captain,” huffed Colin. Olivia rolled her dark eyes before stomping on his foot noticeably and hard. Watching Colin reel back at the unexpected pain, Molly winced for him. She knew (off first-hadn expiereince) what Olivia’s foot-stompings felt like. She had a knack for getting through the shoe and onto a very sensitive bone that hurt bloody murder.

“Remind me not to let that crazy, wild thing onto the team. I shudder to think of her with a Beater’s bat,” groaned Colin to his three friends who smirked and chuckled to themselves. It wasn’t often that a girl managed to best Colin. Come to think of it, it wasn’t often that a boy managed to best Colin. Olivia, no denying it, was a special girl.


That night, Molly was listening to the even sound of her friends’ synchronized, deep breathing as one by one, they all dropped off to sleep. She pulled her drapes shut and laid her head down gratefully on the pillow.

"Well," she whispered. "I'm back."


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