A/N: I still don't own the characters. My prompt for this round was "freckles."

May 2, 1978

"Mum! Mum! Mum! Mum!"

"I'm in the kitchen, Charlie. What do you need?"

Her second-oldest boy came pattering in out of breath, calling to her long before he reached their kitchen. "Billy keeps saying that I'm only five, and that five-year-olds are babies. But I'm not a baby, right Mum? Percy's a baby still, and Fred and George are definitely babies, but I'm big like Billy, aren't I?"

Molly sighed and sat down on a stool, brought Charlie close to her legs. "Yes, Charlie, you're definitely big like Billy. And one day all your younger brothers will be big, too."

"But I'll be bigger, right?"

"Yes, you will be bigger for awhile yet." She smiled at him; his legs were stubby compared to those of Percy, and she was sure the toddler would have him outgrown by the time he was 12, despite their nearly 4-year age gap.

"Good. Mum, do I have to share a room with Billy forever? Sometimes his feet stink and it makes our whole room smell rotten."

She couldn't hide her laugh. "You'll get your own room soon enough I'm sure, dearie." Satisfied, he grinned and turned to run back outside to play. As he left, Molly noticed the dirt lightly coating his hand-me-down play clothes. Charlie was always up to something, that was for certain, and that something was usually very, very messy.

Maybe it was just that she was getting older, or that she had twin newborns to care for, but she looked back at her days at the busy hospital as a reprieve, nearly a vacation. Caring for ten to twenty patients a day was nothing at all compared to raising five healthy, active boys. Merlin's beard, where had the time gone? It felt like only yesterday that she was looking in the mirror at her growing belly, anticipating the arrival of her first child. And now she was approaching 30, the mother of five amazing red-headed children.

Something like a faint 'pop' came from the direction of the front door, and Molly's supposition was confirmed moments later when she heard a knock.

"Good afternoon! You must be Mr. Wainwright. How are you today?"

"Doin' well, Mrs. Weasley. Remind us what it is your plans are?"

"Well you see, I need another floor built for our house here. The oldest two are sharing a room and the twins are in our bedroom, and they certainly can't stay there forever. So we'd like to add a third story."

"All right. If you don't mind, I'm just gonna take a quick peek around, see what you've already done with the place."

"Not a problem. Would you like some tea or anything? I'll put the kettle on."

"If you're offerin', how about when I'm done with the tour, I'll take a cuppa while we chat."

He was back downstairs 15 minutes later, sitting on a stool in the kitchen and accepting the tea she offered him. "So you built this place yourself, did you?"

"Yes we did." She never liked the house much, but she was still proud, and sounded it.

"Well, to be honest, it shows. I really can't build upwards until we fix the issues in the first two floors."

"What will it cost to get it fixed and built properly?" She was tentative, nervous.

Wainwright began writing out some numbers on a piece of parchment and handed it over to her. "Merlin. It's all necessary?"

"Well, I guess we could give up some of the more cosmetic things, but without some serious fixing and a good deal of magic, I don't know if this will last much longer."

The front door slammed shut, and "Molly! Who do you have in our kitchen?"

"Uhm, hello, Arthur. Home early today, are you?" She couldn't look him in the eye.

"It was slow at work today, so I thought I'd come home early, spend some time with my family. Never would've expected to come home to another man in my kitchen, drinking my tea." It wasn't often that Arthur sounded irritated, but he certainly did just then.

"Arthur, meet Mr. Wainwright, an architect who works in Diagon Alley. I had him over to see about expanding the Burrow. Mr. Wainwright, this is my husband, Arthur."

The architect held out his hand. "A pleasure."

Arthur ignored his outstretched hand. "Will you give me a minute with my wife?"

"Sure thing."

The front door had barely clicked shut when Arthur turned to speak. "Molly, what was he doing here?"

"I just wanted to find out how much it would cost to have professionals fix our house- turn it into a real home," Molly said defensively.

Arthur sounded hurt. "We've lived here for eight years and you don't consider it a real home?"

"Can you blame me, Arthur? The boys have to wear shoes in the house to keep from getting splinters! Bill and Charlie are forbidden from wrestling in their room after the time that they fell through the floor into the kitchen. We have so many garden gnomes that I can hardly harvest half of what I plant, and Merlin knows we can't afford that. It's a damn good thing I learned duplication spells, or this family wouldn't have enough to eat on the pathetic excuse for a salary that you get tinkering around with Muggle filth!"

Her husband's face, a moment ago lit by the fire of an argument, dropped into a blank stare. In a moment, the words she spat at him without thinking came rushing back into her head. "Oh no, Arthur, I-"

"I get it, Molly. We've been married nearly 10 years and you finally tell me what you think." She could barely stand the look on his face as he stepped away from her and turned to walk out the door. "I had a surprise for you today, too."

"Really? What did you do?"

He just kept walking. She followed him, keeping the door from slamming in her face, and saw piles and piles of lumber on their front yard.

"Arthur, you bought all of this?"

He was still facing away from her as he spoke in nearly a monotone. "I got promoted to senior-level at work and it came with a bonus. I know we need more room for Fred and George, and how much we had left to do, so I took a half day today and went to Diagon Alley. Bought the wood and went to Flourish and Blotts for some books." Reaching into his briefcase, he rummaged around some and pulled out two new books, finally turning to face his wife to offer them to her.

"Creating Your Dream Home with Lumber and Magic - Simple Spells for Anyone," Molly read. "Architecture and Magic: The Latest Advancements in Building by Wand. Arthur... why didn't you tell me? These are wonderful!" Turning her attention to a little ways down the hill, she noticed the contractor hanging about awkwardly. "Mr. Wainwright, please come here for a moment."

When he reached them, Molly said, "Thank you so much for your time today, but I don't think we'll be needing you. There's just one thing- do you mind if I keep the quote you wrote, with what we need to be up to code? We can pay you for it."

"Don't worry about it, Mrs. Weasley; it's yours. Have a good day, ma'am, sir."

"You too, thanks." She was beaming as she walked back to an unsuspecting Arthur and threw her arms around him. "Arthur Weasley, you never stop surprising me when I least expect it. I can't wait to get started on this project with you."

"Honestly, Molly? I thought you didn't trust my building skills."

"I don't trust the building skills we had at 21, no. But we're older now, and far better at magic, if I do say so myself. I want to make the Burrow something we can really be proud of, and if we can do it ourselves, that is all the better. Will you forgive me for what I said, earlier? I just want a home that our boys can really live in, one that has room to grow... just in case."

"Of course I forgive you, dear," he said, leaning down to kiss her. Coming up for air, he added, "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"That tonight, before we sleep, you'll let me kiss every freckle on your body," he said, punctuating each word with a kiss on a different freckle on her face.

"I think we can agree to those terms," she said, kissing a freckle on his nose, wrapping her arms around his waist, and going back inside.