A/N: Hey... Sorry I haven't updated, I have no excuse I'm just being a lousy human being. Here's a chapter for you, I hope you like it and I hope my tardiness with updating isn't too insulting.

I do not own the Harry Potter franchise and no copyright infringement is intended and all rights go to J K Rowling.

I hope you're having/have had a wonderful day! Enjoy!

P.S. ElsaElphieGinny, I tried to use lots of those words!

LILY'S P.O.V

31st JULY 1978

THE BURROW

"Wow," I say, in awe as Molly shows me inside her beautiful home for the first time, dressed from floor to ceiling in an abundance of magical objects and vintage furniture, all aglow with the familiar style of the Weasleys – practical but attractive, "this is incredible."

"Do you like it? Arthur and I made it ourselves," Molly says proudly.

"I love it; this is truly brilliant, extraordinary even."

Molly's wearing a dress with a crocheted cardigan and an apron over the top, her curly ginger hair falling about her shoulders but pinned back at the front. It's one of the things we have in common, another being that we both adore children and magic. Occasionally, some people do mistake us for being sisters. I don't mind, in fact, I'd be happy if Molly were my sister.

I look around, taking in the mismatched curtains and rugs and carpets everywhere, the sloping ceilings, the magical furniture I'd often seen in James' house, the pictures hung askew on the wall, the homely feel and glow of the whole place makes me feel so very comfortable. Out of the window, which is hastily made out of hand-glued panes, I can see the garden, adorned with flowers and trees of very colour. You can also see the garage and the occasional clatter of metal coming from within it – Arthur is clearing working on his Muggle objects again. Molly says she doesn't approve of it but because Arthur is so fascinated by it all, she can't bear to stop him from doing it. There's a wooden sign hammered into the ground, reading 'The Burrow' in white paint.

"I'm happy you like it," Molly smiles, "when we first moved in… when was it? About 1968 I'd say, it was just after we married, you see. Some people say we rushed into it but with all this dark magic and You-Know-Who rising to power, well we didn't know if we'd even be alive the next week and we love each other dearly now, so I know it wasn't a mistake. Besides, even if I could go back, I wouldn't!

"As I was saying, when Arthur and I first moved in, well it was hardly recognisable. It was a little Tudor building with a large stone pigpen on the side! Can you imagine? Arthur wasn't so sure but I was. I knew the potential this land had and we're so close to the Diggorys, the Lovegoods and the Fawcetts now… Anyway, I was firm and I said, 'Arthur, this is an excellent price and really, we can just build on top of it'; and build on top of it we did!

"It started off as just two stories but then we had Percy and then the twins… and I would like more, I think so we just kept adding on. We've finished it now though."

"It really does look beautiful," I tell her truthfully.

"Thank you dear."

"So where are they all?" I ask, looking around for the children. The house is never usually this quiet, it's quite unsettling.

"Outside, Bill's showing Charlie how to de-gnome the garden. He's so sweet, being the eldest, teaching Charlie how to do everything. He's only eight but he's such a sweetheart. Percy's sitting on the grass, he's at that awkward stage where he wants to do whatever Bill and Charlie are doing and the twins are on a blanket outside – don't worry! They're perfectly safe! Bill said he'd watch them whilst I came to let you in. Sorry, you probably don't want to hear me ramble about my children!"

"Oh no, Molly it's completely fine! I'm sure I'd be the same in your position."

"Are you thinking of perhaps having your own?" Molly asks.

"Well, by law, I have to –"

"Nonsense! Arthur says, but don't repeat this to anyone," she leans in, so her voice is just a whisper, "that the Ministry is under a lot of pressure from protestors as well as the Dark Side at the moment and the least it wants is to anger it's warriors – otherwise the Ministry would fall. He seems to think that there won't be a Marriage Law for much longer! In fact, he heard one of the senior members of the Wizengamot say that it won't be too long before the law is changed. Isn't that great news?"

"It is," I say, bemused slightly. Change the law?

"So, do you think you would want children?"

"I would, but James and I haven't seriously discussed it." The name Squirty Squid Pickety Johnson Potter seems to come to mind and I try not to laugh.

"I'm sure if you were to talk about it, he would be all for it," Molly says, encouragingly.

"I'll try to talk to him later, perhaps. It's just… it's an awkward conversation to have and I'm not entirely sure how to bring it up. Do I just casually say 'oh, this cottage is lovely and it has a spare room, hmm, what a great place to raise a child'?"

Molly laughs.

"Oh, sweetie, it's only awkward if you make it awkward! How is Potter's Cottage? I hear it has the most wonderful honeysuckle vines and roses and senetti and –Merlin! Here I go again, rambling off about nonsense."

"Don't worry about rambling, heaven knows I do it all the time. Yes, it has a vast garden. Not quite as affluent as yours, though."

Molly laughs again, "Thank you but I am sure the Potter's Cottage garden has a rich profusion of flowers of all varieties. How is James?" she lowers her voice, "And the Order… How is Albus?"

"We shouldn't talk about this here," I implore, "You know what it's like, talking of these things. We should go outside."

"Of course, of course. I can introduce you to the twins!"

"Sounds great," I say happily, following her into the garden.

JAMES' P.O.V

POTTER'S COTTAGE

"I hate this," says Wormtail, holding up his hand, adorned with a standard Ministry-issue wedding ring. Moony raises his eyebrows.

"You didn't have to apply for the ceremony yet," Padfoot points out.

"I didn't apply for it, Melanie did. After all the guys she's been seeing, she applied for the rings and the ceremony! Why?"

"I don't know, Wormtail. Maybe she really likes you or something," Moony suggests.

"Or maybe she wants a subtle reminder to paedophiles that she is not available and for them to leave her alone," Padfoot says.

"Funny, I didn't think she minded the attention," Wormtail says bitterly.

"Hey, what's gotten into you?" I ask.

"Nothing, I just don't want to marry her."

"Maybe if you can prove that she's unfaithful –"

"How? We're not even married yet and even if we were, the Ministry would just suggest I suck it up because they've got more important things to deal with."

"They have and so, by the way, have we," Moony says.

"Like what?"

"Saving the world from immense evil," Padfoot says.

"Saving innocent lives," Moony adds.

"Saving the rights of those not of Pure or Half Blood," I say.

"Destroying the dark side?" Wormtail says.

"Yes, that too," Padfoot says, grinning, "What I wouldn't give to properly hex Snivellus Snot with no consequences."

"There are consequences to everything, Padfoot," Moony points out.

"Ugh, don't you start with the logical thinking… You sound like Marlene," Padfoot groans, sinking back into his chair.

"Did you guys have another batrachomyomachy?" Moony asks, setting the book he's reading down. Wormtail frowns with confusion – his Latin is rather poor and Padfoot just looks slightly tired, as he has been for the past few weeks.

"A fight between frogs and mice?" I raise my eyebrows.

"No," Moony says, "a silly fight about nothing."

"Oh," Padfoot says, "then yes, we did."

"What over?" I ask because someone has to and they're all too scared to ask themselves. No fight is about nothing.

"Alice," Padfoot says miserably.

"Ah, what did you do this time?"

"Apparently it's too early to joke about the whole Marriage Rejection thing," Padfoot says splenetically.

"Padfoot you are the most maladroit and tactless guy I know," Moony sighs.

"And I love you too," Padfoot says dejectedly.

"Look," Moony says, "I know you find it amusing that Diggory accidentally sent a letter detailing plans for a wedding to the wrong girl –"

"It's hilarious," Padfoot cuts in, smirking. Moony scowls at him.

"You may find it funny, but to Alice, it isn't funny at all. Don't you remember how heartbroken and distraught she was?"

"Yeah," Padfoot suspires, bored.

"So play nice, okay? Alice isn't ready to look back on that event and smile about it."

"She never looks back at things and smiles at them," Padfoot grumbles.

"And you wonder why Marlene gets angry with you!" Moony says, exasperated.

"Oh yeah? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Padfoot says, standing up, his voice rising.

"That you're difficult, petulant, and puerile," Moony retorts, standing up also. (Don't you just love the Oxford comma?)

"At least I'm not a mercurial panjandrum!"

"What?" Moony splutters, plainly hurt, "I am not pompous and my perhaps unpredictable moods and temperament are to do with my lycanthropy! You know that! Why would you dare…? I thought we were friends. Closer, we're Marauders. Doesn't loyalty mean anything to you?"

"Don't you talk to me about loyalty! In fact, let's talk about your lycanthropy you treacherous, perfidious snake in the grass!"

"You accuse me of betrayal?" Moony breathes his voice heavy with vehemence.

"Maybe," Padfoot glowers, "but you'd be the expert so why don't you tell me?"

"You've gone too far, you volatile, injudicious backstabber. I've never betrayed you, any of you!"

"Ooo, backstabber? Is that all you got you fraternising, fraudulent delinquent."

"Are you using words I taught you to make a point or because you can't come up with any insults yourself?"

"Are you using long words in hope you'll outsmart me or because you're too cowardly to face up to a duel?"

"Are you calling me a coward?"

"Oh yes, a large coward with no loyalty or values."

"We'll see," Moony takes out his wand but Padfoot is just as fast.

They both raise their wands as if to cast a hex – and not a defensive one.

"HEY!" I shout, moving in-between them.

"Move out of the way, Prongs," Padfoot snaps.

"Listen both of you! We're all Marauders and we've known each other for years. Are you really going to turn your wands on each other now?"

"Can't you see it, Prongs? He's a double-agent for the Dark Side," Padfoot spits.

"Don't be a prick, Padfoot. That's Moony, he would never betray us for whatever cost –"

"Oh come on Prongs, you've heard what the Ministry said. Voldemort's recruiting giants and werewolves."

"And you seriously think Moony of all people would join him? The side that Greyback is on? The guy that ruined his life? How stupid can you be? Moony's a Marauder and Marauders never betray each other. Solemn oath, remember?"

Padfoot's face wavers and he drops his wand to his side. I look at Moony but his wand is already lowered.

"You're really not a spy?" he asks, quietly.

"No!" Moony says, exasperated.

"Oh fuck," Padfoot sits back down, "I really am a petulant and puerile prat, aren't I?"

"Yep, the biggest prat in the world," Moony says, sitting down also, smirking.

"Shit, I'm so sorry Moony. I guess I'm majorly paranoid."

"You guess?"

"I hate you, Moony," Padfoot grins. Moony grins back and they get up and hug, I roll my eyes.

"Now that was the epitome of a batrachomyomachy," I mutter.

"Tell me about it," Wormtail sighs.

LILY'S P.O.V

THE BURROW

"Auntie Lily!" Bill shouts as I walk down the garden. He runs at me for a hug. I bend down so I'm his height and wrap my arms around him and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hello, Bill. How have you been?" I ask as he gets up and drags Charlie toward him, who's been standing back, watching me with big eyes.

"Fine thank you, how have you been?" he asks and I smile.

"Very well thank you. And what about you Charlie?"

He mumbles something I don't quite catch and Bill nudges him with his foot.

"I'mokaythanks," he says so hurriedly, I barely hear it.

"Good. You know, your mum said you quite liked dragons…" I reach into my bag and pull out a model of a Common Welsh Green.

"A Common Welsh Green…" he murmurs, transfixed and I hold it out to him.

"So she got you a model dragon, what's the big deal?" Bill asks, watching his younger brother with raised eyebrows.

"The big deal," Charlie glowers at Bill and suddenly the shy boy is gone, "is that the Common Welsh Green is one of the two British dragons and it can grow up to 18 feet long, and sometimes you can tame them, and it has one of the best roars and spits fire and it's cool."

"The Hebridean Black is better," Bill dismisses.

"No it isn't! The Hebridean Black may be bigger but just because it's big it doesn't mean its better!"

"It is better!" Bill shouts back and I look from one to the other.

"Isn't!"

"Is!"

"Isn't!"

"Is!"

"ISN'T!"

"IS!"

Charlie looks about ready to explode and swings his fist back for a punch. I jump forward and grab Charlie's wrist before it can hit Bill.

"Charlie!" I scold, "Is that any way to be a civilised human being? Charlie, you shouldn't shout at someone even if what they're saying is absolutely wrong, much less actually hit them, that is most certainly not the way to handle a situation. And Bill, you shouldn't provoke your brother. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Auntie Lily," Charlie mumbles.

"Yes, Auntie Lily," Bill says, looking at his feet.

Molly strides down the garden, the twins lying down in Moses baskets levitating in the air charmed to follow her, Percy's hand in her grasp, a look of pure fury on her face.

"Boys," she seethes, "what have I told you about behaviour when we have guests?"

"That we need to be on our best behaviour when guest come around," Bill recites sulkily.

"Exactly, and is this acceptable behaviour?"

"No, mum," Bill says.

"Go inside, both of you," Molly snaps at them.

Once they've left, Molly turns to me, a smile forming on her face.

"How on Earth did you manage that?" she asks.

"Manage what?" I ask, smiling back.

"Get them to stop fighting and also most people back away slowly when they witness my children fighting! It doesn't matter how many times I tell them, they always end up causing havoc anyway and they usually never listen to me, but they listened to you first time. How is that?" Molly laughs.

"I have no idea, they're usually such sweet boys and it's horrible when they argue with each other. Hi, Percy."

"Hello," Percy says, burying his face into Molly's apron.

"Aw, so these are the twins," I peer into the baskets.

"Three months, almost four," Molly says, proudly.

"They're so sweet!"

"The sweetest," Molly agrees, touching one of them on the nose. "This is Fred," she says pointing to the one on her left, "and this is George. Would you like to hold them?"

I nod and Molly sets Fred first into my arms. Holding him, on that last day of July, with one of my best friends and some of the people I consider to be extended family, I suppose it sort of made up my mind. I do want children of my own and this time I'm pretty certain that's what I want.