Disclaimer: I own no one. JK Rowling own all of the characters and the song "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" belongs to J. Fred Coots and Haven Gillespie. Enjoy and REVIEW!!!

"You better watch out.
You better not cry
better not pout.
I'm telling you why;
Santa Claus is coming to town."

Molly stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of their small cottage. She had her long, red hair pulled back from her face in a low ponytail, a few strands falling loosely around her oval face. She wore the small, pearl studs Arthur had given her the Christmas before and she had put on makeup for the first time in five months. Despite all of her efforts, however, she still sighed moodily at her reflection. She turned to the side, examining herself in her new, emerald green robes. Despite their flattering cut, she still looked dumpy. As if to remind her of the reason, Bill let out an almighty scream from the bedroom. With one last furtive glance at the mirror she left the room. "Shh, shh," she whispered, picking up the infant. He was still mostly bald though crimson fuzz had begun to spread over his tiny head. She smiled down at him fondly. He wasn't even a month old yet, but she knew, knew in her heart of hearts, that he was destined for big things.

He quieted as soon as she had him in her arms, filling her with the warmth and happiness the mirror refused to grant her. "Mummy is going to put you in your new Christmas robes; that's right," she cooed, carrying him to his room. He had yet to spend a full night there but, because hers and Arthur's room was already packed with their clothes, a bassinet, bed and other odds and ends, she still kept all of his things in the small study turned nursery. She pulled out the Christmas outfit she had bought the week before from his small, blue trunk. The miniature robes were green and red, striped like a candy cane, and had a matching stocking cap.

"Molly?" Arthur called, stepping out of the fireplace in the kitchen.

"I'm in Bill's room," she called back. A small part of her, one she was trying desperately to squelch, told her to straighten her robes, to fix her hair.

"And how was your day?" Arthur asked, leaning against the doorframe. She finished putting booties on Bill's tiny feet before answering.

"Oh it was lovely. We went on a walk to the park and then we finished decorating the Christmas tree and made some toffee for the party." Molly handed their son to Arthur, enjoying the look in Arthur's eye as he gazed down at the boy. "How was your day dear?"

"Not as exciting as yours," he replied mildly, smiling down at Bill who was gazing intently at Arthur's glasses. "You look wonderful," he smiled, looking Molly up and down. She could have kissed him.

"No, well, thank you I . . . When are we supposed to get there?"

"We should probably leave in about fifteen minutes which means," he paused to hand Bill back to her. "I should probably change now." He ambled over to the bedroom and she followed him, sitting down on the bed and watching as he sorted through his side of the closet. He pulled out his nicest robes, deep brown with maroon trim. He pulled off his work robes. Molly was still getting used to changing in front of him and it gave her an odd thrill when he didn't turn his back, that she was privy to an activity to which no one else was privy. It made the three of them seem more like a family. "Perkins said his wife was dying to know your recipe for gingerbread. I said I'd ask but wouldn't hold out much hope," Arthur chuckled, pulling the clean robes over his head.

"Here, let me help," Molly got up, putting Bill in his bed. She straightened Arthur's robes lovingly, brushing the imaginary dust from his shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her lightly, grinning at her cheekily. He kissed her again but Bill began to cry. Molly, blushing profusely went to pick him up. Arthur combed his hair which had become tussled. "Do you think I look alright?" Molly asked tentatively, cradling Bill in her arms. Arthur looked up, confused.

"You look beautiful. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Molly whispered, her cheeks reddening.

"Right, well, we should be off then. You take Bill and I'll get the toffee." Molly nodded, still blushing. She should know better than to ask Arthur questions like that. Baby and toffee in hand, the couple apparated to the home of Mafalda Hopkirk.

The grand front room was teeming with Ministry personnel and their families. Children were running around, sweets and pastries clutched in their sticky hands. Molly took a deep breath, following Arthur into the throng. He caught sight of Mafalda who was serving punch at a side table. "Happy Christmas!" he greeted, smiling. "Molly made toffee." He handed a small, neatly wrapped tin to the tall, rather plump woman who smiled at Molly warmly.

"Thank you Molly," she said in a deep, warm voice. "And who is this?" She asked, gesturing at Bill.

"This is my-our son Bill," Arthur stated proudly.

"Oh he's a dear. Would you care for some punch?" Molly and Arthur nodded. They took their cups. The two wandered around contentedly for a few minutes, chatting with this person and that person before Molly felt a tell-tale warmth spread from the baby in her arms.

"Arthur, Bill needs a change. Did you see the loo?" she whispered.

"I'll do it," Arthur offered, looking down at her.

"No, no, it's my turn."

"Alright, I saw one over there," he pointed toward a small room off to their left. After changing Bill, she reemerged. Arthur was conversing jovially with a tall, balding man who she recognized as his co-worker Perkins. She was about to go and join him when she heard her name uttered in a conspiratorial whisper behind her. She stopped, listening in.

"Who is that?" one woman spat in a shrill, irritating voice.

"That's Molly Weasley. She's married to Arthur, that muggle-loving nutter from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Obviouslyhe doesn't set much store in looks." The other voice was low and croaky. Molly winced, biting her lip to keep herself from crying.

"What is she wearing? She looks like a beached whale and that, that baby! I know we're supposed to think all babies are adorable but-" Molly whirled around, her eyes flashing dangerously. She could stomach a lot of things. They could have said anything about her and a good deal about Arthur too, but the minute they said something about her Bill, well, that was something she would not tolerate.

"Do you mind?" Molly asked, her voice low and furious. "It's Christmas for Merlin's sake. You should be ashamed of yourselves. And for your information, my husband happens to be a very important member of the Ministry of Magic and he is not, by any definition, a nutter. Now why don't you run and find your husbands and try to act more like ladies in the future." With that, she turned on her heel and marched away from the two rail-thin blondes who, she was happy to see, looked at least a little bit penitent.

Later that night, after they'd returned to their house, Molly sat beside her husband, her head resting on his shoulder. She had her hand resting on his leg and he was tracing small circles on it with his long, slender fingers. Bill was asleep and the fire in the grate was burning low. Molly smiled and chuckled, thinking of the looks on the two women's faces.

"What are you laughing about?" Arthur asked, amused.

"Oh, nothing . . . " she trailed off. He didn't need to know. Silently, in the warmth of her husband's presence and the quickly approaching midnight hour, Molly vowed to try and ward off self-pity and to never, ever let anyone speak ill of her family. She was strong and had a husband who loved her, a child who was perfect. What cause had she to be sad? She sighed happily and snuggled closer to Arthur. "It's nothing at all. I just love you."

"I love you too, wait, it's almost here-" the clock chimed.

"Happy Christmas Arthur dear."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It took a while . . . Another update should be coming soon Please REVIEW!!!!!