Eight Years and Three Kids later:

Molly lay on her back in the warm bed, massaging her round belly, tracing the nearly invisible white lines scarring her skin. She had been embarrassed by them when she had been carrying Billy, but now, pregnant for the fourth time, she accepted them- maybe not proudly, but with a good humor.

She knew from experience that the nausea she had felt early every morning of the last seven months could only be kept away by remaining completely still and so she didn't move. To her right, she felt Arthur lying on the bed on his side, wearing only pajama shorts and covered in a light sheet. He was never cold, she always. She watched his body rise and fall with his breaths, feeling her heart ache the way it always did when she gazed uninterrupted at this man she loved. This was a rare moment in her bustling household and she drank in the perfect peace she felt at his side.

Too soon though, her reverie was broken as she heard through the thin walls Percy begin to wail. All three of her sons inhabited the little blue and yellow room right next to hers. Molly gingerly shifted herself, testing if the movement would make her ill. It didn't. Although her morning sickness woke her up around five every morning, she supposed she was glad it was gone by the time her children woke up. She rolled on her side, unbalanced momentarily, and heaved onto her feet. Walking to the door she glanced at herself in the floor length mirror and paused, as she had done every day for the last three months. She was gigantic.

Molly had always been proud of her figure. At Hogwarts she had relished in her beauty. Her dark red hair was thick and wavy, her body lean and feminine, her features classic. Her first three pregnancies had done no damage. At twenty-one, twenty-three, and twenty-six, her body had bounced back easily, shedding the 15 pounds she gained each time easily. This time was different. She remembered her dismay when at four months she had weighed as much as at nine months with Percy. Arthur, laughing at her vanity, had gone to St. Mungo's with her, leaving the boys at Arthur's brother Henry's house. When the Healer had told them the reason for her rapid weight gain, she had laughed- and cried- and Arthur had clapped his hands and kissed her. Twins! Healthy, live twins.

And so she was fat, no worse, she was dumpy. No men gazed at her as she sauntered down the street. No longer did her long red hair and sassy demeanor elicit desire or at least infatuation in all the men she encountered, from shop-keepers to teachers. Instead men's eyes passed over her: her hair tied in a messy bun, her body awkwardly encased in tentish robes; or worse, stared at her as though frightened by her obviously unmanageable fertility. Of course, now she was getting attention from the opposite gender. Other mothers smiled sympathetically as they watched her wearily wrestle with her expanding family, commiserating in the age-old sacrifice of youthful beauty for children.

She tried to look at herself from every angle, to see which way presented the least swollen view. However, she reminded her, as the Healer had told her (multiple times) it was important to gain weight for the babies, so she kissed her fingertips, then stroked her belly, and accepted it.

By this time, Percy had stopped crying and had begun to shout. He was rapidly becoming a terrible "terrible two". Charlie and Billy had been handfuls, but not to the same degree. Percy was so peculiar, enjoying his "routine and decorum" as Arthur fondly called it, and was often upset by his brother's excitable personalities.

Molly walked into the cramped room next door, separated from her own by the small bathroom. Billy, a gangly boy of seven in an oversized t-shirt as pajamas, was lying on his back on the carpet, choking with laughter, as Percy, in his toddler fury, kneeled over him and hammered Billy's stomach with his tiny fists. Charlie, dressed the same as Bill in one of Arthur's worn out shirts and baggy crew socks, was hovering over them, egging Percy on, barely able to shout "C'mon Perce! You've almost got him this time!" in between giggles.

"Boys!" Molly exclaimed, striding over to them in her enormous glory and seizing Percy's fist before it landed on Billy again. "What's going on in here? You are not allowed to fight like this! And so early in the morning?" (that was worst) "What could possibly have happened already?"

"Sorry mum!" Billy chirped, his elfin features splitting in a wide grin revealing his three missing teeth, and leapt to his feet, utterly unfazed by his brother's onslaught and his mother's chastises.

"We were only playing" Charlie spoke up, standing stoutly, hands on hips with sturdy legs spread wide like a miniature man of fifty. "Perce was snoring again so we woke him up, and he got mad, and so he started hitting us" he finished logically.

Billy concluded "So really.. only he was being bad!"

Molly hid her amusement, "So it seems". She lifted Percy off the floor and awkwardly fit him on her hip. She wiped the angry tears off his soft cheeks with her thumb and kissed the head covered in fine dark red down. "Percy, you really mustn't hit! You know, I am going to have to tell your father about this when he wakes up." Percy nodded seriously, his thumb creeping up to his mouth as he laid his head against her neck. Absentmindedly she tugged the finger out of his mouth, she despised thumb-sucking. She cradled her beautiful son, worrying for an instant about how much harder it would soon be to give him the time he deserved, the time they all deserved, when two more babies arrived. She picked up Percy's plastic glasses of the dresser and set them on his chubby face.

"Alright boys," she addressed Bill and Charlie, "Who wants to help me with breakfast?" Both boys shot out the door, screaming "I'll get your wand!"

"Don't wake your father!" She quickly called after them, as she heard her bedroom door slam open against the wall.

"Too late" Arthur boomed, his laugh carrying easily across the hallway. Molly smiled as she heard the boys scuffling energetically with their father and made her way down the hall with Percy to the kitchen.

Here was yet another room that was too tiny, the kitchen was crammed with a large round table with four chairs (one with two old textbooks on it for Charlie) and a worn highchair fitted round it. The contents of the four cabinets overflowed onto the counter and even the windowsill above the sink doubled as a herb garden. Although it was undeniably homey, the Weasley's had definitely outgrown this kitchen, as she had told her husband countless times. He however seemed loathe to leave it.

Arthur had brought Molly to this house after their honeymoon, and the two had fit nicely in the snug home. The front door opened onto the living room, which blended into the kitchen, separated arbitrarily by the same table they had now. The cabinets, counters, appliances, and window hugged the back wall. Down a little hallway were the two bedrooms and the bathroom. Molly remembered how excited she had been by the prospect of her new home. It was small, but then again she had yearned for that.

She had lived in an enormous house growing up as a Prewett. Her three brothers had filled up the house with brooms and books and laughter. Her mother had kept it warm and delicious-smelling and safe. Her father had made the house feel smaller than it was with his bulk and his personality, filling every corner with his jokes and stories. Guests constantly flowed in and out, and at least one of the three guest bedrooms had always been occupied.

But once Gideon and Fabian had…gone, the house had felt hauntingly big. Her mother no longer kept the house alive with smells, parties and guests, but spent whole days curled in bed. Her father rarely spoke and had retreated into his study; both parents mourning separately and unendingly for the two beautiful sons they had lost. Billius, the younger brother who had survived the war but served as a constant reminder of the other two to his parents, had kept away as much as possible, staying with friends or traveling for his studies until he was an adult. Molly remembered the echoing of those halls, the rooms where Fabian and Gideon's things lay untouched, the still lifelessness of a home frozen in grief, and shuddered. She had embraced the tiny house Arthur brought her to as part of an escape from those devastating memories, and had resolved never to let that same emptiness penetrate her own home.

However, as much as she appreciated the closeness and lively clutter of their home, she knew the time had come for her growing family to find to a larger abode.

She set Percy in his high chair and leaned against the counter, unwilling to start breakfast without the help of her wand. It was possible, but much too exhausting. Billy ran in, his legs much longer at seven than Charlie's were at five.

"TADAA!" he proudly exclaimed, handing the wand to Molly, "I had to wrestle it away from Dad and Charlie, but I got it!"

Charlie scrambled in behind him, his face sour from the loss of the daily competition, and grabbed his stomach, "I'm so hungry, I could eat a hippogriff!"

Arthur strolled in last. Molly smiled at the sight of her husband, ambling confidently through the house in his ridiculous England's Quidditch team boxers. She thought he looked even better at thirty than he had when they married. He had gained a little weight due to her resolutely improving skill at cooking; something he had desperately needed to do at Hogwarts when he had been thin as a pole. His broad shoulders and chest had filled out and his arms were muscular from the avid games of Quidditch he played with his brothers nearly every weekend.

He strode across the tiny kitchen and put his arms around Molly. She relaxed into his embrace, lifting her face up to his. She saw the face she loved, the face she saw on all three of her sons: slightly tanned, with a square jaw and wide cheekbones, all of it topped with short cropped red-orange hair; and kissed him. "Good morning" she whispered.

Arthur grinned and then bent down to her belly. "Good morning boys" he said, his breath making the cotton dress Molly wore to bed flutter against her skin.

"Boys?" Molly asked, pushing her husband away from him, "these two are definitely girls, I can feel it in my bones".

Arthur laughed as he sat at the table, proudly surveying his progeny, "Yeah sure, though that's what you've said every time."

He pulled Charlie on to his lap and said cockily, "So woman, what's for breakfast?" his son giggled and parroted, "Yeah Woman! Make me some food!" Arthur smirked at Molly who swatted both of them on the heads with her wand.

After Arthur and Molly dressed and put coats and boots on the three boys, they turned them loose to play in the crisp February air in the tiny walled courtyard behind their house. This being a Muggle neighborhood, the children were relegated to the more sedate games of Fanged Frisby and Catch so as not to attract the attention of neighbors. They found this frustrating, especially since the two older boys yearned to fly their youth sized brooms, but were only allowed to use them in the countryside.

Molly sat on the bed, monitoring the behavior of the boys out the back window as Arthur got dressed. She again massaged her belly, relaxing her back and letting it rest completely on her legs, freeing her back momentarily from the exhausting weight. Arthur sat next to her, his weight displacing hers on the bed and she rolled into him.

"Just a few months now" Arthur said gently, rubbing her lower back. He kissed her head as she nuzzled it into his neck.

"Oh, it's not bad, it's just.." she sighed.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"It's just that these two are so big! Like maybe six pounds each, already. And where are we going to fit them in this tiny house?" She winced, "And they are constantly kicking me! Honestly, I am afraid to lift up my shirt everyday because I am convinced my stomach will be purple with bruises!"

Arthur laughed, "Feisty little buggers, told ya they were boys… here let me take a look!" He reached for her teasingly but Molly wriggled away from him. "Ugh, gross Arthur. Why don't you just get out of here and go to work? You know my boyfriend can't come over until you leave!" she joked back.

Arthur clasped his heart and fell over, rolling on the bed in mock violent emotion, "Oh my heart! You cheating wench!" he calmed, and peered at her mischievously "…But really, thank God these babies aren't mine! I certainly can't afford them!"

Molly opened her mouth, bested, "Oh you!" He took advantage of her pretend rage to kiss her good bye and strolled out the door.

By the time Arthur returned that evening, Molly's playful mood had evaporated. The twins had been kicking her all day: she worried that perhaps they were already fighting in the womb. Really though, she thought, that should be expected considering the behavior of her already-born children. It had been a hard day with the boys: Billy and Charlie had got into a fierce wrestling match, cooped up in the tiny yard, while she had been settling Percy down for his one-o'clock nap, and Charlie had hurt his arm and cried for two hours. She had soothed the pain fifteen minutes after the accident with a little potion, but Charlie didn't forgive Billy all afternoon. Molly had gotten so fed up with their attitudes that she sent both of them to bed without supper, an effort which had involved far more energy than merely serving them the mashed potatoes and turkey she had prepared.

Percy had snuggled with her quietly in her bed as she told him the same Beedle's Tales she'd heard as a child, but even that made her earlier concern of not giving each child enough attention resurface. She held him, happy that he at least still put up with her hugs and kisses, until he fell asleep at nine. When she put him back in his room, she saw that her older boys were asleep already, but had divided the tiny room into defensible thirds clearly marked out by lines of clothing and toys. She had wanted to cry.

Arthur got home around ten. He worked late most Fridays, trying to ensure he need not come in on Saturdays. He found his wife curled in their bed, waiting for him when he walked in.

"Hi sweetie", he said as he lay down next to her, sweeping her dark red hair out of her eyes, and revealing the oval face he loved; the face he had loved since he was fourteen years old and had found that gawky, self-conscious Molly Prewett had returned to Hogwarts after the summer such a ravishing beauty that even seventh years approached her. And somehow, unbelievably, she had agreed to marry him seven years later. He looked at her large green eyes rimmed with dark brown lashes, beautiful, but with dark circles beneath them. He kissed her gently.

"How was your day?" he asked, placing his warm hand on her stomach.

"Ugh.. crowded and exhausting". She replied, closing her eyes again.

He smiled, but her eyes were closed and she didn't see. "Well, go to sleep now, tomorrow I have a surprise for you."

Author's Note: Drop me a review!