As a bonus for the end of the week, 2 Harry/Molly fics. Sequels of a kind to Birthday Surprise and Launch Off.
"Why do I have to go to your sister's?" Harry asked Molly grumpily.
Because Jo and Chris are curious about you, and want to show they're not prejudiced about lesbians. Because you're struggling with writing the current chapter, and you need distracting. Because...
"Because it's Kirsten's birthday party, and I said we'd help," she replied.
"I don't like birthday p-parties. You kn-know what I'm like at them."
At Molly's last birthday party, Harry had got drunk and Molly had ended up letting Harry seduce her. The things you did when you were thirty-two.
"Kirsten's going to be seven," Molly said. "Different sort of party."
"I hated b-birthday parties when I was seven as well." Harry's voice was plaintive. "They m-made m-me play p-p-party games."
Molly noticed Harry was missing during Pass the Parcel. Not the kitchen, she prayed. The temptation of Jo's "grown-up punch" might be too much if Harry was getting stressed. But she didn't find Harry there, but in Francesca's bedroom. Francesca was five and three-quarters, and "the shy one", but she and Harry were happily sitting on her bed, talking.
"Frankie's interested in p-pirates," Harry said, beaming up at Molly.
"Can girls really be pirates?" Francesca demanded.
"Of course, " said Harry. "And I'll tell you a story now about a famous one, an Irishwoman called Anne Bonny."
"Why did we get invited?" Harry demanded, going into the cinema. "I thought your sister was still cross with me."
"It's Francesca's birthday treat and she specially asked that you should come," Molly replied.
"Frankie's very sweet, isn't she?" Harry said. "Kids that age are wonderful, so eager to learn about everything."
"Yes, but please don't tell her stories about pirates this time."
"But Frankie doesn't want to be a p-pirate anymore. She said that to me earlier."
"You've been talking to her already?" Molly tried not to sound alarmed.
"When Jo was hunting for Kirsten's coat. Frankie wants to be a doctor n-now, just like you."
"You didn't say I was a pathologist, did you?" Molly, asked, wincing.
"She thought it was fascinating what you could learn from skeletons."
"You shouldn't talk about dead bodies to a six-year old!"
"If she gets upset about death, we shouldn't see this film. You know about the sad bits, so I brought some spare tissues."
"I'm not going to cry," Molly lied.
"You're supposed to," Harry said. "Walt Disney was a bastard, but a brilliant storyteller too . If you want to cry, it's fine, M-Molly." She squeezed Molly's hand.
Harry was so sweet sometimes, thought Molly. Even though she knew this evening was going to end with a detailed academic critique of Bambi.