Thank you to rockyroad69 for beta-ing the first chapter!

July, 1962

Arthur and Molly had just finished their first year at Hogwarts. They were walking through Kings Cross station, until they reached a metal bench overlooking some of the other platforms. They took a seat on the bench together, while waiting for the arrival of their parents.

Molly Prewett stuck her feet through the rungs of the trolley that held her trunk, and wrapped her arms around her chest. Despite being July, it was slightly breezy and cold. Though, it didn't seem like Arthur was too bothered about it. He was sitting back on the bench, his bright red hair wafting gently in the air - and was wearing the biggest, brightest beaming expression that Molly had ever seen in the year that she had known him.

She watched him intently as his light blue eyes scanned around wildly. There was something about the trains that drew him in - the wheels, the steam, even the uniforms that the conductors wore. After a few minutes of silence, he gave a breathy sigh, and turned back to Molly, who smiled up at him.

"Marvellous, aren't they," he commented. "Muggles."

Molly raised her eyebrows. She knew that Arthur had a great interest in Muggles. It was the highlight of any conversation that he ever engaged in, and he expressed an extreme unhappiness at learning that he wouldn't be able to take Muggle Studies for another two years. She had seen a collection of little Muggle toys that he owned and carried around with him; dinky little toys with wheels that he would pull apart just to put it back together again.

"I have a train set at home that looks just like that one," he pointed at a magnificent, slightly rusty steam train that had just pulled up at Platform 3.

"You have a train set?" Molly asked, interested. "My brother Fabian has one of those. It puffs steam and can chug around the whole house. Sometimes it even flies! What does yours do?"

Arthur smiled weakly. "It's a Muggle train set, so it doesn't do anything."

Molly wrinkled her brow. "But why do you have it?"

Arthur turned back to the trains. There was no way that he could ever explain just why he enjoyed anything to do with Muggles so much. Ever since he tagged along on a trip to the nearby Muggle town with his family as a little child, he had been fascinated.

He didn't really see what the fuss was about in regards to magic. Arthur saw how hard the Muggles worked, and how much of a simple life they seemed to live. Really, there didn't seem to be any competition.

Arthur had Muggle-born friends at Hogwarts, and he had been consistently envious of those friends. He frequently irritated them with his constant questions on the way they lived, but he just couldn't help it. No matter how much Arthur learned, he still had more questions; more things he just desperately wanted to know.

Arthur would give anything to live as a Muggle, just for a little while.

But it was a pointless wish. No matter how much he wanted to, he would never be part of their world.