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Molly bustled around the kitchen, doing last minute preparations for dinner with the help of Percy, Audrey, and Fleur. They were the ones who had no desire to be pranked or to prank back, and honestly these days Molly appreciated the help. She wasn’t as young as she used to be. The three were smiling and chatting, talking of Ministry business and growing children. Sometimes Molly would weigh in, but she mostly let them figure things out themselves.
There was a ruckus coming from the sitting room, just as there should be. Ron and Ginny were snapping at one another, fighting like young siblings, their spouses, Pansy and Harry, trying to calm each of them. Fred and George were laughing along with the older children, undoubtedly at one of their own pranks. Molly could hear the low tones of her two oldest sons talking, Charlie’s wife Hermione interjecting here and there, undoubtedly discussing curses or dragons or both. She had never liked how dangerous their careers were, but, Merlin, was she ever proud of them.
The children were running like stampeding elephants up and down the stairs, through the sitting room, in and out of the house, everywhere, with Katie and Angelina — Fred and George’s wives respectively — chasing them about in some game they had created.
Nothing made Molly happier than having everyone in her home.
Then Arthur slipped his arms around her, helping lift the heavy roast pan, and Molly knew exactly what made the family complete, and made her happiest.
As he carried the roast to the table, she and her helpers brought out the other dishes, then called the rest of the family to dinner. There was a crescendo of sound as the whole bunch moved into the room, everyone talking and laughing at once, children squealing, and the sounds of many feet. Just like Molly liked it.
During dinner, she basked in the love and laughter at their table as she held Arthur’s hand. His thumb was rubbing circles on the back of her hand, a soothing motion he often did when she was too excitable. Molly wasn’t sure how he knew she was emotional this evening, but he always knew.
She couldn’t help, when they were all together like this, but think back over the years. Some had been hard, with no money and too many mouths to feed. There had been sorrow and anger, fights amongst siblings and sometimes between herself and Arthur.
When she had married a Weasley, her family had plenty of things to say about it. All of society had lots to say about it, really. How could she lower herself to be a Weasley they had asked, but Molly had known, even then, that Arthur was a man who would only raise her up.
And he had. Over and over, no matter what they faced, he stood tall and did what was right, both for the family and for the greater wizarding world. Molly was proud of him, proud to be married to him, and enormously proud of this amazing brood that was theirs.
New babies, promotions at work, new joke products, Prefect badges, new teeth, and even those who didn’t have anything special happening at the moment — Molly was proud of them all. It took most of dinner for everyone to tell about what was going on in their lives, but she enjoyed every moment of it.
She was even proud when the twins turned their nephew Louis into a ferret at the table and he spilled his soup everywhere trying to scramble away. Her pride was only slightly tempered by her irritation with them. While in their younger years, Molly had been loath to allow them to “waste” their potential on such things, they had been right all along. And she was proud of them for it, proud that they followed their dreams against even their own mother’s opinion. They had defied the odds in so many ways and it made her proud. She hoped they knew it, too.
After dinner, Bill and Charlie volunteered to handle the dishes, letting her visit with the family. Molly told stories to the younger children as she rocked the newest baby, Charlie’s son Aidan, enjoying the way they all gathered around, listening intently. They all laughed about their parents’ antics as children and oohed and aahed when she told them about amazing feats of magic she had seen.
The children particularly loved stories of the war, stories where evil was defeated by good. Molly hoped they would never have to see war as anything more than a story, but she knew that, if they were ever called on to use their talents and skills for the good of wizards and witches everywhere, the Weasleys would always rise to the challenge, whatever generation of her family it might be. It made her heart warm to know both that this was true and that these sweet babies were brought into a world of peace.
When it got later, closer to the little ones’ bedtimes, the families began to leave or, in the case of Charlie and Hermione’s family, head upstairs. Each family trickled out one by one after making the rounds for hugs and loving goodbyes.
Molly was tired by the time it was just the two of them in the downstairs of the Burrow again. When Arthur came to her and offered his hand, she assumed he was going to lead her to bed. It was well past time for it, in the best way. She was surprised when, instead, they headed to the other end of the sitting room.
“Arthur, what—”
Bowing over her hand and looking up at her, he asked, “Would you grant me a dance, Mollywobbles?”
She laughed, rolling her eyes a little. “It’s not time for Celestina’s hour,” she pointed out.
“I’ve charmed a muggle music box to play for us,” Arthur told her.
“Muggle music?” she asked, curious. She had heard a few things, but nothing she really enjoyed.
“This is from America. Music called country. I think you’ll like it, especially this song about us.”
“About us?” Molly asked.
“The artist’s name is Shania Twain and I wonder if she might be a witch. Her music is perfect for us,” Arthur explained. Waving his wand around, he fiddled with some buttons and dials until the sitting room filled with music and a voice began to sing.
The American accent, with what Molly had heard was called a country twang, was odd, but she liked the way it wove through the music, and Arthur was right. This was the perfect song for them.
Ain’t nothin’ better
We beat the odds together
I’m glad we didn’t listen
Look at what we would be missin’
They said, “I bet they’ll never make it”
But just look at us holding on
We’re still together, still going strong.
When the chorus came on, he sang it to her, over and over that she was still the one. Arthur’s voice was off key and a little warbly, but Molly loved it, almost as much as she loved him. Yes, she was still the one for him. And he would always be the one for her.