Molly reflects on her life with her children, the ones she gave birth to and the ones she found

Other witches had been calling her Mumsy-Molly since long before she'd ever given birth to a single redheaded child of her own. Although she'd grown a fairly thick skin over the years, that was always the insult that seemed to dig into all the worst of her insecurities. From as early as she could remember she'd been maternal by nature, and it had turned out to be a lucky thing she was.

When her parents had been some of the earliest war casualties she'd ended up having to raise both herself and her two younger brothers all on her own. Auntie Muriel had let them stay with her during their summers away from school, but had more often than not refused to lift a finger to help in any other meaningful way. Fabian and Gideon had been a handful and had driven her nearly crazy at times, but the wild pair had also given her plenty of training in patience for all the many little Weasleys that were to come.

It really was hardly fair though, that she'd had to go straight from raising the two of them to raising her own babies, all without ever even having a chance to be a hot single young woman on her own for a while. And during the seventies of all times! When the muggles had been at the height of some of their most wild and interesting social experimentation. It was a bit of a tragedy.

She'd skipped the free love era altogether, and though she dearly loved every single one of her children and her Artie and wouldn't trade any of them for a thing in the world, she sometimes felt as if she'd missed out. If she'd had even a year on her own back then to be young and out on the prowl, with no brothers or husband or children who needed her constant care - and when bellbottoms were in fashion? No one would have called her Mumsy-Molly then, that's for sure.

As the years passed and she became entrenched deeper and deeper in the endless work of motherhood, she felt like the word took on new meanings of its own. As a teenager it had just been a way for the other girls to call her bossy or meddlesome, and hadn't really done more than sting to hear. As a woman with seven children and a house packed full like sardines and a husband who never seemed to be promoted, it started to sound more and more cutting whenever she heard it. Even just overhearing another woman say the word mumsy in passing would send her mind spiraling to dowdy, dumpy, frumpy, harridan, hag…

(unfuckable)

So needless to say when she overheard little Hermione, whom she dearly adored and had become especially close with in the last year, casually describe her that way as if it were the highest compliment she could possibly give her, Molly had been rather unsure how to take it. She hadn't been eavesdropping on purpose, but it had been one of the warmest weeks of summer and the kitchen window had been wide open to let a breeze in while she made the kids their tea. She had been about to call them all in when she realized Ginny and Hermione were playing in the garden right under the open window.

She had herself a bit of a listen as the two talked about anything and everything under the sun that little girls might find interesting in that rambling way children had that she was so very fond of. Her Percy had been the absolute worst of them, somehow able to turn a trip to the mailbox into his personal rendition of the odyssey, but even still she'd always found it charming. Their Hermione was quite the same way, get her going and she could talk your ear off for an entire afternoon if you let her, that bright little mind racing ahead almost faster than her tongue could follow. It was one of her favorite things about her.

Despite the tone conveying no cruelty or malice, she could not help but be more than a small bit hurt when she heard that hated phrase leave the girl's mouth.

"-I dunno Gin, your mum's simply the mumsiest mum I've ever met in my entire life! I know it's fun at the compound and the pack are all close, but if you're not one of their kids werewolf mums might as well be actual wolves. Rainy and Keely always thought I was crazy for being scared of their mums when my dad is the alpha but I didn't get it until I met yours. I didn't realize mums could be nice to kids that weren't their own. Your mum is so soft and sweet and warm and her hugs are like the most wonderful magic," The girl said wistfully, her voice dreamy like she was far away in the middle of a good memory. Molly's heart twanged with affection for her, and she wanted nothing more than to go and scoop her two little darlings up into her arms and hold them. But she held back, and was glad she had as the girl's voice became pained and tight.

"With the way the other wolf mums acted towards me, I was always sort of glad I didn't have my own. I mean… I felt bad for dad having lost his mate, but in the grand scheme of things I suppose it seemed like a mum was more trouble than she was worth. Yours made me realize how wrong I was, and just what me and Harry missed out on not having ours. It made me really sad for a while, actually. Like… Miriam and the other older females took turns watching me when I was little and dad was busy, but why didn't any of the others? It can't have just been cause they were busy with kids of their own, cause yours has seven of you and she's the nicest mum I've ever met! She's warm enough for everyone who comes to her door... Why couldn't they have just been kinder, Ginny?" She said, her voice small and so achingly vulnerable.

Molly's eyes were wet and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to avoid sobbing. How could those mothers have been so unfeeling as to have seen a child that needed love and not given it to her? What was wrong with them? Her chest felt like a giant's fist was constricting it, and she struggled to steady her breathing. She heard her daughter start trying to comfort her cousin, and was proud of her kindness.

"Nene… your dad seems cool to you because he's your dad and he's sweet with you, but he's a bit scary to everyone else. I bet those lady wolves were just worried uncle Fenrir would think they're trying to use you to make a move on him. Adults have to worry about stuff like that all the time apparently. I read about something like that in one of mum's gross romance books once, the one with the bloke in the kilt on the front. In the story he accused the lady of trying to get on his good side by being friendly to his daughter," Molly felt her cheeks heat, realizing she'd have to keep a closer eye on where she left her novels lying around. She wondered how many of her other children had ever bothered to take a curious peek, and knowing her boys she was sure at least one or two of them had scarred themselves.

"Oh! And also… Our Charlie told me that there were always girls at Hogwarts trying to do stupid stuff to get his attention, and it always backfired and just made him not like any of them. You've got to admit, your dad's a bit of a grouch even on his best day - imagine how fuming he'd be if one of the lady wolves in his pack really was a love schemer and just being nice to you just to get into his kilt!" Her daughter said dramatically, and she mentally groaned at the ridiculousness of it all. What a thing to say, but it had made Hermione laugh and that sound was like music to her ears after how sad the poor dear had sounded.

She had shaken her head, smiling in amusement as she went back to making their snacks for tea. She'd never thought being called mumsy could be a compliment, but it suddenly felt like the kindest thing anyone had ever said about her. Yeah she was a mum. And if being a mumsy mum meant that she was good and kind and loved children and treated them like they were worth a damn, then she was happy to be the mumsiest mum in the whole entire world.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At the beginning of their relationship, when only owls and letters had been exchanged between them, little Hermione Greyback had been merely a distant relation who had done a kind thing for her family. A friendly benefactor. Someone she was definitely grateful towards, but a stranger all the same. It had scarcely taken more than a single meeting for Molly to come to adore the child, and to see her as practically a second daughter.

More surprising than the discovery that her husband's new head of house was a werewolf child, more surprising than the discovery that she had reinstated them into one of the most prestigious families in wizarding Britain, more surprising even still than the discovery that said werewolf child had somehow managed to get the Weasleys in good with the Malfoys after a hundred and fifty years of blood feuding, was the discovery that their little lady's brother was none other than Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world.

The moment she'd set eyes on the girl's brother in Andromeda's living room she'd recognized him not as the boy-who-lived, but as the child she'd held in her arms and rocked to sleep at order meetings so many years ago. Sometimes in her very own kitchen. She remembered praising his young mother and father for what a sweet baby he was, for how lovely his green eyes were, for how handsome and clever he'd been even as an infant. They'd been exhausted, the poor things, but so incandescently happy. They'd sworn up and down that he was worth every single sleepless night.

Everything around her in that moment had faded away and blurred at the edges as she'd been thrown back into her memory of the three Potters when they were last alive and together, utterly love struck with their perfect baby. His skin was a little lighter now than it had been then, his hair veering more towards brown than black, and it had a bit more curl to it. But those eyes were the same, and she had found herself nearly lost in their brilliant bottle green depths. The same then as they were now, and the same as his mother's. Arthur had shaken her shoulder, bringing her back to the present, but she would swear to her last breath that she'd seen Lilly look at her and nod before she'd been drawn out of the brief reverie.

She'd always had a soft spot for children, and it was no hardship to admit that she was particularly fond of these ones. The poor girl had grown up without a mum - and the boy had grown up without either of his parents until he'd been taken in by the Greybacks. Lots of children had been orphaned or lost parents from the war, of course, and her heart broke every time she heard of another little one who'd grown up alone or with a part of themself missing. They were all deserving of love and care, but something in these two had called out to her, and she had felt her heart respond in kind. Though she had only ever had the courage to say it aloud to her Artie, who she knew understood and felt the same, she was of the firm belief that she had nine children.

Seven she'd given birth to, and two she'd found and chosen.

So when her oldest daughter had brought over a pair of cats without even thinking to ask for her say so she'd been a bit miffed until she'd realized what a kind gesture it was intended as, and her temper cooled as she watched her girls giggle and coo over their new cats.

Despite it being a weekday during the school year, Molly was always delighted to see Hermione whenever she came to visit the burrow, and this time was no exception. The girl was really very compassionate, always thinking of others and their feelings. She was so glad Hermione and Ginny had bonded the way they had. As much as she'd always longed for more girls she knew her Ginny bean had also equally desperately wanted a sister. And now she had one… and apparently a critical part of that bond was going and picking out pets for each other.

(She could scarcely blame them, Charlie had brought home worse over the years. She still didn't want to know where he'd found that lethifold and why in the name of Merlin he'd tried to keep it under his bed. They'd had to call in Amos Diggory from the DRCMC to help with that one, and he still glared whenever she saw him in town.)

She'd always been more of a dog person, which was a good thing she supposed now that a good deal of the people in her life were… of a canine nature. It wasn't that she'd disliked cats but rather that she found them cold and aloof, and couldn't seem to relate. But she found she rather liked the look of the clever ginger tomcat that had sat on her table and so politely sniffed her hand. It really was quite an ugly thing, with a squashed in face and short bandy legs, but it had a big enough personality to match the girl that had chosen him.

In her opinion the kitten that had been given to Ginny was a much more handsome fellow, though he didn't seem quite as bright. He was young though, and he could still surprise them yet. As she was thinking that, the kitten leapt out of her daughter's arms clumsily. It had clearly been aiming for the table but it thumped hard onto the kitchen floor instead. All three of them froze, and Hermione clamped a hand tightly over her mouth, clearly trying to hold back a laugh she knew was insensitive. Her Ginny bean let out a frantic shriek "You saw that I didn't drop him, right mum? He just launched himself out of my arms!" She said, verging on hysterical with tears starting to stream down her face.

Molly crouched down to pick the poor thing up off the floor and inspected it carefully, pressing her fingers gently along the fine small bones of its paws and legs and spine. She heard Hermione comforting Ginny, letting her know that it was still breathing and its heart rate was steady. What a powerful set of ears that child had on her! Thankfully, it seemed perfectly fine to her eyes as well. Nothing broken or out of place. It hadn't made a peep when it fell either, so it must have been significantly sturdier than it looked.

Standing back up and dusting her knees, she set it gently on the tabletop.

Shaking itself off, it staggered diagonally across the surface to sit with the other cat without a care in the world. It moved in the way that very young creatures did, each step wobbly and uncertain even when it had a clear destination in mind. She couldn't help but notice that the tomcat hadn't seemed surprised or particularly concerned about its little nephew taking a tumble. It must be a regular occurrence. With a chuckle, she suddenly thought of a good name for it "Ginny darling, the way this one jumps about you should think about calling him Pounce," she said lightly.

Her daughter lit up "That's such a great name mum - and it rhymes with flounce! Pouncey Flouncy, or maybe Flouncy Pouncey! Flouncy Pouncerson! What a cute name for a cute wittle kitty!" She said, picking it up and hugging it to her chest a good deal more securely than she had the first time. Smart girl. She snorted, her littlest's sense of humor always amusing her to no end "Just don't confuse it dear, its young enough that you've got some time to choose a name for it," she advised, "but you should still decide on one rather than switching between several. Be sure you like whatever you pick before you start calling it that," she said, already envisioning a grown cat that had eight different pet names and responded to none of them.

Hermione looked at her own cat consideringly "Do you think Crooksie would prefer if I keep the name they called him at the shop? He's not exactly a kitten, and they probably called him that his whole life…" she said a bit sadly. Molly thought about this, but before she could respond the cat looked up at her from where the girl was holding it in her arms, meowed softly to get her attention, and proceeded to very clearly shake his head just like a person saying no. Her and Ginny exchanged shocked glances, unsure if this was normal behavior for how animals interacted with the werewolf child, or if it were strange even for her.

Hermione seemed utterly delighted, and entered into a full-on conversation with the cat "You like the name I picked for you, then?" She asked it sweetly, and it nodded its head eagerly, its furry jowls wobbling like jelly. "What a clever kitty, did you figure out how to say yes and no all on your own?" It nodded again, its eyes gleamed and its chest puffed and its tail swished behind it. It was proud of itself.

Molly had seen a lot growing up in a magical home and attending a magical school and living her life in the wizarding world, but she'd never - not ever - seen anything like this. She was reminded of hearing her grandfather describe meeting and briefly working with Newt Scamander once a very long time ago, the way the man had so instinctively understood the creatures he loved and cared for. That the trust and bonds of friendship he'd developed with them seemed to bolster them with a keen intelligence above and beyond what any other domesticated animals were anywhere near capable of possessing.

She wondered if it was simply the animal in the girl that allowed her to better understand the cat, or if the cat was a particularly remarkably intelligent specimen on its own, or if it was some combination of the both at work. A highly intuitive child and a brilliantly clever cat. Her own twin terrors danced through her head at the thought, and she marveled in awed horror at the sheer unadulterated mischief they could get up to if they ever really put their heads together towards a common goal.

Shaking her head to clear the heartburn-inducing thought away, she got up to begin making a pie for Hermione to take home to her father and brother for the full moon the next day, and left the girls to giggle and love on their new pets.

After a while she heard the floo activate and a terrible yowl come from the other room, and her heart dropped practically down to her toes. Had one of the cats somehow-? Wooden spoon in hand, she nearly abandoned her cooking fruit on the stove top to go and investigate, but then heard her eldest son swearing up a storm and relaxed somewhat. It had been someone coming through, whichever cat had been closest to the fireplace had probably just been startled by the flames. Silly creatures!

Hermione had darted out into the other room as soon as she heard the yowl, and nearly barreled straight into Bill on her way out of the kitchen. He ducked to the side to avoid her, and swore again rather colorfully. Despite her amusement she tutted at him "Watch your language in front of the littlest ones, dear" she chided gently, and he scowled "That thing just properly brutalized my damn ankle! When did you and dad get a cat? I thought you hated them," He whined, reminding her of the many times he'd been bitten or scratched or otherwise aggressed by one of the things Charlie had snuck into the house when they were boys.

Molly sighed happily and smiled into her pan of simmering fruit "Don't be ridiculous - I don't hate them Bill, we've just never exactly seen eye to eye, me and cats. These ones are quite nice enough though. Hermione brought them by - the big tomcat is the one she picked out for herself and the kitten is a gift for Ginny. Wasn't that sweet of her?" She said proudly, having come around to the creatures entirely in the short time they'd been in her home. Never having had a familiar of her own, she decided she rather liked the idea of her girls having found theirs already. A genuine bond with one was supposed to help a great deal with young ones learning to use their magic, after all.

Her sixth mum sense told her Bill was rolling his eyes at her, and she whipped around to catch him in the act. He looked quite startled and she was glad to see she still had it. "None of that, now!" She warned with a laugh, and he shook his head exasperatedly "I'll never understand how you do that," he muttered, taking a seat at the kitchen table next to his sister, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head and giving her kitten a cheeky tickle under the chin. "Introduce us then, Gin" he said gamely, his voice taking on the tone all of her older ones tended to use when they were humoring their baby sister.

Her youngest presented the kitten to him and held out it's paw for him to shake "This is Pounce, mum named him cause he tried to jump onto the table and missed," she said cheerfully, all earlier fear that she'd let it kill itself gone. "Missed by a long shot," Molly said under her breath, and Bill pretended to sniffle to cover his snort of laughter. "He's a much more… conventionally handsome lad than that other fellow," her son said rather diplomatically "at least they both blend in," he added with a grin, making his sister giggle. "Oh yes, there's no denying they're a pair of Weasley cats with that ginger fur," she agreed sweetly, holding the kitten up so that it was near their heads.

It really was quite a good match.

Hermione came back in the room then, rushing over to greet Bill and apologize for her cat savaging his leg "I'm sorry about Crooksie, Bill. The poor darling was absolutely terrified. I'm fairly sure he lived his whole life until now in that pet shop, and he must have never seen anyone come out of a fire before," the girl said sheepishly, tugging on his sleeve and deploying tactical puppy eyes against him. Privately Molly thought that the instinct to bite so viciously when frightened was probably one of the main reasons he'd gone unsold in the pet shop for so long, but she kept that thought to herself. Those slightly feral predilections just served to make the cat all the better a match for their wild and rambunctious girl.

Said girl had moved around to the other side of the table and was suddenly pulling stacks upon stacks of parchments out of her pockets. She arranged them neatly on the table and sat primly with her hands folded in front of her "I'm actually very glad to have caught you both here at the same time, I have an important family matter I need to discuss with the pair of you… Official house of Black business," she clarified, and Molly narrowed her eyes at the girl. Her sixth mum sense flaring to life once again.

"Hermione Elena Greyback tell me you didn't get your sist- your cousin a pet cat just to… to butter me up for some business venture!" She demanded, her voice an icy whisper she knew the girl would be able to hear perfectly well. At hearing a sibling get full-named at the normally neutral dinner table of all places, Ginny rather smartly backed away and slunk away silently into the living room with wide-eyes, taking her kitten with her.

Meanwhile Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head emphatically "What? No, of course not - Molly, I would never! On my honor, this is completely unrelated," the girl insisted, and she relaxed somewhat. She hummed a bit, still not entirely convinced "Awfully convenient timing, all things considered," she muttered, and was well pleased when she saw her girl gulp and look a bit nervous. Oh she still had it, alright.

"Come now, mum, play nice," her eldest said playfully from his seat at the table. "Besides, I'm rather curious and I'd bet this week's entire paycheck you are as well," he added with a wry smirk that was terribly and wonderfully reminiscent of her own long-departed father. It ached to see it on his face as much as it lifted her spirits. She tried ever so hard not to play favorites, but it was difficult not to love your firstborn just a little differently than all the rest that followed. Not more, just different.

She waved her wand and set the pan of fruit to stir itself, and made her way over to sit next to him across from Hermione. She folded her hands in front of herself to match her girl and raised a brow archly "Well?" She asked "Go on then, dear," she prompted a bit frostily still, curious herself but not yet fully convinced the pet hadn't been a diplomatic gesture.

Hermione cleared her throat and tugged on the neck of her shirt a bit childishly, but was ever the consummate little professional when she began in earnest, and Molly was reminded fondly of when her Percy was that age. Always so studious and officious, trying to be so formal all the time and act like a miniature grown up. It was remarkably endearing, and she warmed a bit and had to fight the smile it threatened to bring to her lips.

"As you may or may not be aware given Bill's position at the bank, since the crowning of their newest chieftain a few years ago the goblins have begun carefully strategizing for their next rebellion," she began very seriously, and mother and son made frantic eye contact with each other. This was not at all what they'd been expecting from her. Molly raised her brows and Bill shook his head, he hadn't heard even a whisper of a rumor of rebellion. The eleven year old at the table obviously had higher bank clearance than he did, an actual employee of the institution. Having grabbed their attention so thoroughly, they listened carefully to the rest of what she had to say.

"They were originally vaguely aiming for launching it within the decade, but they've recently decided to move things up so to speak. Ragnok is a very politically minded young fellow with a lot of great ideas, and he's making moves at breakneck speed that the rest of them would have gladly let drag on for ages. My involvement in this all started because I was in correspondence with the Black family accounts manager Gornuk, who has become a dear friend. I asked him some questions that it's since been made very clear to me would have gotten anyone else's entire house banned from banking. I was lucky to be in the position of a fellow non-human aristocrat, and so my curiosities were understood to come from a place of empathy and solidarity, and were therefore humored," she said wistfully.

"This is hard to even think about let alone talk about, but you're family and you've been so good to us. To me. So understanding and kind, and I know that even if you don't agree you'll at least understand. Things got better after the war in general, but it's still very dangerous for werewolves and other non-humans right now in the wizarding world. There are laws that make it laughably easy for people to hurt us and claim self defense and never see any consequences for their crimes. There are places that we're not allowed to go and things we're not allowed to do, that Harry and I have been made the exception for because of our last names. A Black and a Potter will be denied nothing by this society, even if we're half-breeds," she said so casually that it tore painfully at Molly's heart.

"Don't call yourself that!" She cried, one of her hands pressing against her chest and the other desperately reaching out across the table for her girl's hands. Gripping it tight in her own and not letting go "Don't you ever call yourself that, even if the rest of the world does, my love," she begged "it's not what you are. You're whole and perfect and you do nothing by halves!" She said through tears, and she saw tears shining in Hermione's eyes as well.

"I'm sorry, it's just been in my head since school started. An older boy called me that on the train if you must know, and I've heard other students whisper it in passing here and there a few times a day since. I was so shocked the first time, and every time after has made less and less of an impact. I've come to accept that's just how a good deal of my school mates see me and my brother, as only half human, and that it's the way society will see us as well when it gets out about what we are. Still only half human, but important ones that they can't ignore. Well, if they can't ignore us then I'm going to make them listen to what I have to say!" She said passionately, and the pair of Weasleys were absolutely gripped. She was a very compelling little speaker.

"The goblin chieftain has convinced Harry and I to go to the opening session of the wizengamot next week and claim our ancestral seats. He claimed his Potter heir ring at the bank just earlier today, and we're going to name Remus and our dad as our proxies so they can serve while we're at school. It's going to be a tremendous amount of work for them but we'll help out as much as we can. Trying to do more, to have a bigger say in what's happening in the world, it's why I needed to talk to the two of you. I want to ask you to help me," her girl said, and breathed in and out as if bracing herself.

"Molly, I know you've already taken on the extra work of being a member of the board of governors at the school and I can't thank you enough for already having helped us in that position. My dad told me about how you spoke on our behalf at the meeting where our educational contract was reviewed, and I sincerely appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. It means the world to me that someone who loves us was there and involved in the process. Please continue doing what you're doing, it's incredibly important and your voice is more powerfully heard there than you realize!"

"The chieftain actually gave me some information to pass on to you specifically, he said you should be glad to hear it. In anticipation of making a more serious alliance with our house, he had his accounts managers do some digging into their archival records. I'm sorry you have to hear this from me, but your aunt Muriel has been lying to you. She's always claimed to be the head of house Prewett but it was actually her brother who had the title last, putting you and your children in direct line to inherit it. You both have a claim to it, all either of you have to do is get to Gringotts first and challenge for the lordship before Muriel does. She's ancient and weak, and your family magic is much more likely to accept one of you as its rightful successor. Plus she doesn't know you know, so it's not like she'll be racing to fix her slip-up," though she clearly felt guilty about delivering this, she clearly had no idea just how much hearing it would effect Molly. While her girl continued to barrel on without pause, Molly was left reeling, holding onto the end of the table to stay upright.

"Ragnok personally suggested that you either claim the lady ship as soon as possible and have Bill serve on the Prewett seat as your proxy, or let him claim the lordship. As a mother of so many students who've gone to or are currently attending the school you're very well positioned on the board of governors to have a significant influence there regarding admissions decisions for years to come. In fact, the chieftain said you could be the single most important piece on the chessboard right where you are - having someone we can implicitly trust on that board could be the key to getting educational rights secured for werewolf and goblin children!" She gushed excitedly, and molly felt the breath in her lungs leave her.

"Also, Bill… I didn't exactly mean to go over your head when it comes to your job, but I have letter for you here from Chieftain Ragnok. I told him about how one of our cousins was working in his bank and he's personally made you an offer to take an official leave from your training to do this work in the wizengamot on behalf of the horde. He called it a sabbatical. If you accept, you'll be named a friend of the goblin people and will be in an incredibly respected and influential position at the bank when you resume your training. He's also agreed to pay you very well for taking on the job. If you take it then as soon as you're sworn in you can call for a vote for house Weasley's seat to be restored and Arthur or one of his relative could potentially serve as well. That would make two additional seats that are sympathetic to our cause, and every single one counts,"

"So really all of that is why I'm here; it is in my official capacity as the head of the house of Black that I do formally ask you, my cousins by marriage and by blood, to take up what seats that you can and join me in this political endeavor. To see magical non-humans gain the rights that every witch or wizard is guaranteed from birth. To go to school and learn, to carry a wand, to have the same protections under the law. What do you say?" She asked, her voice tremulous but loud. Molly was taken aback at her bravery, at her nerve, at the amount of responsibility heaped upon her tiny shoulders. She sat stunned, listening to the girl she so adored talk and talk and talk and talk. Hearing her saying bigger and more dangerous things, she tried stumblingly to process all of what she'd just been told.

Her thoughts raced and rushed and kept coming back to one point of hateful contention "Do you mean to tell me… that evil old cow swanned about for decades like the queen of bloody Egypt… letting us all know just how beneath her we were, and how lucky we were for her generous and merciful nature… and she was never even actually Lady Prewett in the first place?" She demanded, panting like a bull. Her temper rose and rose and her vision started to tinge red around the edges.

Her son tried to lay a hand on her shoulder but she shook it off, standing and pacing her kitchen. For years they'd balanced on the sword's blade of poverty, and her aunt had done little more than chastise her for having so many children and having married a man who couldn't provide better. The rotten old hag had refused to give her a single sickle more than what had been in her trust vault. Even when she'd begged pathetically. Even when she'd been drowning in young and hungry children. How dare she? How dare she!

She should grab her son's arm and march down to the bank right this instant to claim what should have been hers all this time-

Molly heard a soft whimper, and spun around like a whirling dervish to see her son crouched on the floor next to Hermione, her precious girl who was shaking like a leaf despite his efforts to comfort her. She had let her damnable Prewett temper get the best of her, and she realized belatedly how her reaction might look to a child. Even a brave one. She hurried over and knelt beside him, taking the girl's hands in her own, bringing them up to her mouth to press a kiss into the knuckles. It took her a moment to think of the right words to say to fix the mess her poor reaction had caused.

"You just keep bringing blessing after blessing into our lives my darling," she said breathlessly, smiling and hoping it showed her how much she was loved in this house "You're going to drive me round the bend, you are."

Big wet gray eyes looked up at her, wide and not quite so forlorn as they had been mere moments ago "Wh-what? I don't understand, you got so angry… Your heart rate went insane and I could hear your teeth grinding and smell the blood from where you dug your nails into your palms," her girl said mildly, keeping her head ducked low "I'm sorry, Molly. I shouldn't have pushed so hard, shouldn't have been so bossy and assumed that-" she had to cut her off there. She couldn't let her even finish that sentence it was so wrong.

She had so many thoughts in her head, it was time for a word storm of her own.

"You didn't push, and you certainly weren't bossy, and I wasn't mad at you at all, dear. I was mad at my terrible dreadful old fraud of an aunt! What you did was give me lots of good information I didn't know about, and that I'm happy you trusted me with. Of course I want to help you make the wizarding world safer for you and your brother and all the other little werewolf and goblin children. It would be my absolute honor and privilege to join such a cause. And I just simply can't believe the goblin chieftain has ever had a single solitary thought in his head about me - Molly Weasley! And he apparently thinks I'm a political asset! Goodness, it feels a bit like I'm in a spy novel, all intrigue and thrills. And yes! As your family by marriage the Prewetts do formally commit to allying ourselves with your house and championing this cause. We'll go to the bank this very afternoon and Bill will challenge for the Lord ring-"

"I will?" Her son cut in incredulously and she waved her hand in his direction dismissively "He will! Read that letter from your boss's boss's boss and tell me it's not the best job offer you've ever had, William Weasley. I dare you! And besides, Prewetts and Weasleys are both notoriously long-lived. We tend to stick around far past our usefulness. Your training as a curse-breaker will still be there waiting for you when you're ready to come back to it," she argued, and he didn't have a rebuttal as he'd already cracked the seal and started to read it.

His eyebrows rose and rose and rose, and when he looked up his cheeks were flushed "It really is an incredibly generous offer," he agreed meekly.

She continued on with a grin "And once he's done that we'll have to go up to the attic and find all of those ancient pureblood policy and etiquette manuals auntie Muriel gave me for Christmas when I came of age. Turns out she was right about them coming in handy someday!"

At that, Hermione threw herself into her arms and Molly held her tightly. She breathed in the scent of her curls and pressed a kiss on the top of her head "We're in this with you my darling, I swear it. We've got you," she breathed, rocking her softly and stroking her hair. "Weasleys stick together," Bill said as he rubbed circles on the girl's back, and she proudly hummed her agreement. He was such a good boy.

"…Am I a Weasley?" Hermione asked in a voice so soft and tentative she nearly missed it, all the while clutching at her tighter and pressing her little face into her shoulder to avoid her gaze. The things this child did to her poor old heart!

She paused as if she were thinking about it.

"Well you don't exactly have red hair, but you do have a ginger cat so I think that's a point in your favor… You're clever and kind and brave, that's another three points… And you're a twin, those'll be the Prewett genes coming in strong, I'd say that's five points at least… Your nose looks a bit like my dad's if I squint so I'll give you a half a point for that… You've got the same lovely grey eyes as my Artie's mum did and she was certainly a Weasley, so let's call that another two points there… I think that's got to be at least ten points, I'd say that makes you more than Weasley enough for our taste, eh Bill?" She asked, and both of her children were beaming at her radiantly.

"Oh certainly! And you don't seem to mind listening to dad talk about his muggle junk, that's got to be another couple points," he said charmingly, with that handsome boyish grin of his that always made the girls swoon. Hermione giggled and rubbed her cheek onto Molly's shoulder and her nose into the crook of her neck "And you're tough and protective and you care a lot about your pack, just like a Greyback should," the girl whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was a bit later as the pie was just going into the oven that she heard Ginny exclaim about Hermione's cat having brought her a rat and her helping him kill it the rest of the way. She wished it hadn't happened in her kitchen, but it was good that she had put the poor thing out of its misery. How a child could be so vicious and compassionate at the same time still turned her head inside out. To see a creature suffering and to snap its neck as a kindness was anathema to her, but she supposed it made sense for someone who was used to catching her own dinner.

Her and that cat really were an incredibly well matched pair, she thought with a chuckle, and reminded herself to soup up the burrow's anti-pest wards a bit more before going to bed for the night. How on earth a rat had managed to find its way inside the house was going to keep her up if she didn't do something about it "Banish it to the orchards or let him eat the thing, but either way I want it out of my kitchen!"