Dirty Little Secrets

"Mum, we're going out to play Quidditch!"

"Fine, just-"

Molly looked over her shoulder, but the door was already shut before she could finish answering. She sighed, wondering whose leg or arm she'd have to fix up when they got back. Just something else to add to the list of the things she had to do that day.

Her day consisted of chores upon chores: washing the dishes, cleaning out the children's rooms (she couldn't depend on them doing it themselves), and organizing the attic with the ghoul that inhabited the place.

She was currently ironing clothes, although she knew it was a futile effort since her kids couldn't last 5 minutes without wrinkling it one way or another. She would have liked to use magic to do it for her, but because the iron burned a hole in one of her best dresses last time, she decided against it. She didn't feel like going out to buy new clothes for the whole family anytime soon.

The bandanna she wore on her head to keep the hair out of her face slipped slightly, and she made a mental note to adjust it once she was done with the pair of Bill's boxers that she was working on straightening out. It really wasn't necessary, but she had always been a perfectionist. Too bad her skills weren't ever appreciated in the household, considering her perfection never lasted that long.

Just then, the door opened and her husband walked in, his red hair as bright as ever. However, she couldn't help but tell that he was happy about something; his smile and cheerful blue eyes gave it away.

"The Ministry's just given me a raise!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air.

"That's great!" she squealed, running up to him and giving him a big hug. It was times like these that she felt like all of the chores could wait.

He blushed, as he leaned in and kissed her, twirling her around in the process.

"Ew, Mum!"

Molly turned around to see Fred and George, her two identical twins. They were the youngest, next to her new-born, Ronald. They were normally making trouble inside the house since she didn't trust her older kids to take care of them properly while outside.

"Yeah, that's gross!" George complained, sticking his tongue out and pinching his nose.

Mr. Weasley smiled, broke away from his wife and picked up his two boys, each in one arm.

"I suppose you wouldn't want those broomsticks you've been asking for anymore?"

The kids brightened up and jumped down at the comment.

"Nevermind, you and Mum can snog all you like!" Fred yelled back, following his brother towards their room.

Once the pair was gone, Arthur laughed and offered, "I'm in such a good mood, that I think I'll take over the ironing."

Molly rolled her eyes, but was pleased all the same. "Promise you won't mess up?"

He nodded, taking the iron she had left on the table and smoothing out the already flat boxers. "Leave it to me."

She approached him and planted a kiss on his cheek before waving her wand so that the dishes could wash themselves, a feat that was proven successful, and made her way up to the attic to start organizing.

The room was a mess.

Cardboard boxes piled against the wall, most of them toppled over, which meant that it's contents were spilled all over the floor. Molly had to use her wand as an extra precaution to assure that she didn't step on anything. Not to mention that the air was filled with dust, causing her to cough every minute or so.

To make matters worse, the ghoul that had moved into the Burrow resided there, and it's constant moaning put Molly on edge. It's eyes were never glued on her for too long, but whenever the ghostly eyes set upon her, her spine tingled and she couldn't help but feel like it was scanning her very essence. She moved her bandanna so that it covered her mouth instead and set to work.

She started by shoving the assortment of objects back into the nearest box and making a clear pathway for herself. Then, she went back down to fetch a couple of trash bags and set to work. One by one, she took a box and separated the junk from the valuable.

Most of the boxes were crammed with muggle junk that her husband brought home every time he went to some non-magical place because of his work at the Ministry. Those nicks and knacks were the first to go.

"Huh?"

One box made her stop however. Inside, an assortment of wizarding magazines were jumbled together, obviously thrown in without any care. Molly raised an eyebrow in suspicion. They weren't hers; when she finished reading one, she threw them away. She concluded that they must be Arthur's.

She shouldn't snoop around in them, but she did it anyways. Giggles slipped out here and there because of the stupidity of the topics: Muggles 101, The Quibbler, and even a few muggle newspapers. Her face reddened as her eyes landed on the last one: Playwitch Magazine.

What could Arthur possibly do with this? It is a magazine for witches, after all.

Despite the voice in her head advising her to just add it to the already bursting trash bag, she couldn't help but open it up. She gave it a good look and dropped it immediately, for on the first page, a suggestive photo of Arthur popped up.

"Arthur!" she yelled ripping off the photo from the magazine and rushing up the stairs to the living room.

"I swear it wasn't my fault!" Arthur yelped, putting his arms up in the air in a guilty manner and jumping away from where he stood before. Already, the ironing table had a hole in the center if it, and Molly could swear that some of the clothes were smoking. Normally, she would have scolded him for using magic when doing that particular job since she had warned him many times, but another thing was on her mind.

"What is this?!" she demanded, holding the photo up for him to see.

His arms dropped, and a nervous smile replaced his previous expression. "Oh... that."

Molly mocked, "Oh, that. Yes that!" She emphasized it even further by jabbing her pointer finger at it several times.

"You see... they never had a ginger in it and..." he stuttered, twiddling his fingers, his face sweating uncontrollably.

"How old were you?" was her first question. Here eyes bored into his skin as she waited for an answer, her gaze neverending.

Arthur gulped before stating, "Twenty-two."

Molly sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "So we were already married, and had Bill to look after by then."

He nodded, his eyes lowering to the ground.

"What did they give you?" she asked flatly. She knew that Arthur wouldn't allow for such a photograph if there wasn't so etching in it for him that he couldn't resist.

He kept silent for a few minutes then murmured, "The Ford-Anglia."

Molly exploded.

"What!? You took a naked photo for the whole wizarding world to see for a bloody muggle car?! You told me that you won it at the Leaky Cauldron in some game of poker! You don't even know how to drive!"

She stepped forward threateningly, but her Mr. Weasley crept farther back in turn, almost tripping over some contraption.

"I have a good reason! I was reading in Muggles 101 about an enchantment that you can place on a regular car to make it fly! I tried it out and it works magnificently! It's much more efficient than a broomstick to get around! I just have to tweak it a little and-"

"It can fly too?!" Molly shouted, bewildered. "I thought you just wanted to check out the engine and see how it works. You know that you could get fired for doing something like that! The ironic part is that you're own department would be the ones arresting you! Besides, why would you even keep this?"

He scratched the back of his neck, only to feel his neck sticky with sweat. "They gave me a free copy, but I really meant to throw it away. I guess I just forgot."

"Forgot? How can you forget about something like this!" she cried in frustration. Why was Arthur so narrow-minded?

"I don't know! Anyways," he continued, "we should just leave the past behind and move forward. You can throw that away and forget all of this even happened. Agreed?"

Molly thought about it for a bit, and then responded, "Maybe after you use that raise of yours to buy the boys the broomsticks like you promised, some new clothes while you're at it, and if there's anything left over, a nice vase filled with marigolds for my nightstand."

"I'll get right on it!" he said, then snatched his hat and practically ran out the door.

After that, Molly went went back upstairs to finish off what was left of the junk. The ghoul stared at her with a vacant expression, but for reasons she couldn't describe, she felt like he had been snooping around while she had gone.

She figured she probably should get rid of the photo, but instead, she snuck it into her pocket. It was a rather nice picture, and if Arthur had his secrets, who's to say that she couldn't have hers?