A/N: I'm not JK Rowling, and the characters you recognize belong to her. Thanks to my husband for Betaing this. For this chapter, my prompt was "London."

May 2, 1970

"I'm really beginning to show, don't you think, Arthur?" Molly Weasley turned sideways in front of the mirror, pressing her shirt close to her belly and smiling at the roundness now present there.

Arthur came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "You are - and you look beautiful as always. Pregnancy suits you."

"Thank you. I hope that motherhood will suit me, too," she said, wandering back to the bedroom in their small London flat. As she changed into her robes for work, Arthur joined her, looking at her with the same spark that had been there since they were 14 and eyeing each other across the room during Charms.

"Molly, dear, you know there's no need to fish for compliments. You are going to be the best mother England has ever seen, and you know it."

"You are absolutely right, my dear," Molly said, over-exaggerating her arrogance, putting the finishing touches on her outfit, and preparing to Apparate to work. "I will be a wonderful mother, won't I?"

Molly put her arms around her husband and gave him a long kiss. "And you will be a fantastic father, Mr. Weasley. Have a good day at work, love."

"You, too. See you for dinner tonight." Arthur gave her one quick peck on the cheek before they pulled apart from one another to Apparate.

Like always, there was a genuine smile on Molly's face as she worked, but it was with a heavy heart that she made her rounds, knowing the conversations she needed to have with her boss and, even worse, her husband. To say that Molly loved her job would be an understatement; she felt like she was made to work at St. Mungo's; her magic improved every day, as did her knowledge of the hospital and ability to calmly interact with her patients. She'd been promoted twice in as many years, and was inclined to believe that Madam Galen had plans for her to move up even further. If things were different, Molly would've been thrilled. But as it stood, there were two things that were even more important to her than her work as a Healer.

"Hello, Mr. Abbott," Molly said, looking down at the young man. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better, I think, but a little scratchy still."

"Ah, well, that's to be expected. Dragon Pox is a nasty disease, really. Surprises me it's still an issue, with some of the advances going on in potion making these days. But there are bound to be a few isolated cases. Pity it had to be you, though, isn't it." In the weeks that John Abbott had been in the hospital, Molly had taken a liking to the unassuming fourth year, and was glad to see the greenish tone of his skin fade nearly to normal, the pox scars becoming nearly nothing. It was with regret that she'd told him yesterday that he'd likely be in Hufflepuff robes in time to sit his exams.

"Mrs. Weasley! There you are!" Madam Galen's voice and personality filled the small room and Molly turned her attention away from her young patient. "I was wondering if you had a minute to spare. I'd like to talk to you for a moment."

"Certainly, Madam. Let me know if you need anything, John," she said, turning to follow her boss out of the room.

Once they were in Madam Galen's office, she took a seat at her desk and invited Molly to sit down across from her. She was never one to get straight to the point, and they chatted for several minutes about Arthur's job, Molly's pregnancy, Madam Galen's two children, a little bit of hospital gossip, before Madam Galen drew in a deep breath and, for once, paused before speaking. "Well, Molly, I want you to know that you have done an excellent job here, and we continue to be impressed with your skills and all that you bring to the hospital. And with that in mind, I wanted to talk to you about what your plans were for after your baby comes."

"Madam, I actually planned on talking to you about that today." Deep breaths, Molly Prewett Weasley. Deep breaths. You're a Gryffindor. You can do this. "See, I'm not sure who we'll have to help us take care of our child come October or November. Both of our families are busy, and with Arthur and I both working full time, we won't have anyone to help us." Molly could see understanding dawning in her boss's eyes, and it hurt her to watch the sparkle leave them. "I love my job, Madam Galen, and I can't imagine working anywhere else. But I have to do this. I wanted to give you a few months to find someone so I can help train as well. But I have to be the best mother I can be. Even if that involves a sacrifice."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Molly. I was hoping we could work something out."

"I'm sorry, too. And I don't think I could tell you just how much I will honestly miss being here."

Getting through the rest of her day was difficult, and for the first time in nearly two years, Molly found herself just going through the motions, waiting for evening to come. She dreaded the conversation she'd need to have with Arthur, and half-regretted not talking to him about her resignation before making it official, but she was sure Arthur would have tried to stop her. Since he loved his own job at least as much as she loved hers, he would know what she was giving up, and if anyone would be able to talk her out of it, he would. But this would be best; she was certain of it.

Like usual, Molly arrived home before Arthur, and busied herself in the kitchen making dinner. More than most days, she wished that Hogwarts offered a class in domestic magic, as she struggled to focus hard enough to keep the kitchen knives chopping vegetables while her pot of soup stirred itself in an unfortunately choppy motion. Cooking- with or without magic- was difficult, especially after a hard day at work and with how distracted she was, but she would be a mother soon, and domestic skills would be necessary. Plus, she was leaving the working world, not the wizarding world, and she intended to only get better at magic as time went on. So she stubbornly continued to prepare dinner, and very nearly got it right.

Arthur came home from work looking exhausted, and he was nothing but gracious for the small, simple meal his wife had prepared. As they ate, he chatted away about the raid he'd gone on that day, the humor he found in a kettle bewitched to whistle on the hour that had been inadvertently given to a charity shop, and his irritation at the amount of paperwork each raid required, but he stopped mid-sentence to say, "Molly? Is everything okay? You haven't said a word since we sat down. Is it the baby?"

"No, love, the baby's fine. I just have something I need to tell you."

"Well, out with it then. You know you can tell me anything."

She didn't speak right away, letting the words mix about inside her head, trying to decide on the best way to order them. Her silence seemed to aggravate him more, and he moved his chair from across their small table to next to her, put his arm around her, and seemed to silently will her to speak.

"I talked to Madam Galen today."

"How exciting! Are you up for another promotion?"

"No... she wanted to talk to me about my plans for after the baby is born."

"Oh, yes. I hadn't even thought about what you'd do then, head up in the sky as always I guess."

"It's okay, dear. I've been thinking about it for awhile, though. And I've asked Madam Galen to start looking for a replacement for me. I won't be staying at St. Mungo's, Arthur."

"But Molly! You're amazing at your job; I was sure you were on track to be the lead Healer before you turned 30!"

"I know that. And I would have loved the opportunity. But there are two things that mean more to me than St. Mungo's ever could: you and our baby. And I want to be around to see our baby take her first steps, learn to talk, and to read, homeschool her until she's ready for Hogwarts."

"You need to stop referring to our baby as a girl; you're setting yourself up for disappointment. I see what you mean, though. But I'm not making much at the Ministry; are you sure I can support three of us by myself?"

"Boy or girl, we'll figure it out. We have some money put aside from the past two years. Let's buy some land out in the country, build a house, have a place where our children can practice Quidditch and be away from the bustle of London. It will be worth it, Arthur. I promise it will be worth it."