Title: Molly's Story.
Author: searching4romeo
Rating: G
Summary: A little out of character, but a nice piece of fluffiness all the same. FredAngelina.
MWMWMW
If Mrs. Weasley had been surprised when her son announced his engagement at the tender age of seventeen, she wasn't for long. Seeing Fred with Angelina reminded Molly of her early days with Arthur… well, minus the pranks anyway. The tall, willowy girl clicked into place at the Burrow from the moment Fred first brought home, in a way none of Bill's girlfriends had ever managed to. To think that her wildest son would fall so hard, so fast…
Angelina was a mother-in-law's dream. She had arrived to the Burrow wearing one of Fred's old Christmas jumpers ('It must look like I'm stealing all your son's clothes, Mrs. Weasley, but these jumpers are just so comfy!'), with some home-made biscuits and flowers for the table. She and Fred had been arguing as they walked up the path, and the rest of the Weasleys had caught every word. Molly knew she was the right girl to keep Fred in check when Fred had told her to knock it off with the gifts and just be herself and she had retorted that she was being herself; it wasn't her fault if she was a good deal more polite than he was.
The two love-struck teenagers were intent on marrying that coming summer and when Angelina asked Mrs. Weasley almost immediately for help, she was more than happy to oblige. The future mother- and daughter- in-law bonded over china patterns and starter menus while Fred wandered around after them and tried not to look too pleased.
The ceremony had been perfect. Because joke shop was so successful, Fred was able to indulge Angelina's dreams of a fairytale wedding. Whilst waiting one afternoon for his future bride to model a prospective wedding dress, he had once confided in his mother, "Even Quidditch-crazy tomboys deserve to feel like princesses from time to time".
But the best news of all, in Molly's eyes, came last Christmas. Angelina asked, quite offhandedly, if there were any of Fred's old baby jumpers still lying around. One glance at the pink-cheeked girl confirmed what had hitherto been suspicions and as her children spent the holidays battling it out in Quidditch matches of epic proportions, Mrs. Weasley had set every one of her needles to knitting. She only had nine months after all…
Sparks from the fire broke her nostalgic reverie and Molly turned to see Fred's face, panic-stricken, nestled in the embers of fire.
"Mum, the baby's coming!" A cry in the background reinforced that information. "Lina's water just broke, what do I do!
"Oh Merlin above, she's a week early! You have to put in a call to St. Mungo's, Fred and then Floo through. They'll have someone waiting to help, I'm sure." Fred blinked uncertainly at her for a few moments and she smiled. "Hurry up love, or you'll be birthing the baby yourself. I'll get a hold of your father and meet you there in a minute. I suppose George is already telling the others?"
"'Course!" Fred regained his composure and flashed his mum a grin before cutting the connection.
Molly stopped for a moment before pocketing a tiny pair of knitted bootees and rushing to find Floo powder.
A grandmother, fancy that.