and all the baby boys we've born., [ early august 1980: iso molly ]

[Cora]

The sun had risen over Godric's Hollow. Eyes all over the village weer blinking open - some with resistance - and trying to get their minds about a brand new day. And that how it was, in 1980. That's just how things were as summer came to a close over their heads. You got used to living for days at a time, for moments and for people and the rare chance to smile. You got used to adjusting. You got very good at getting by. And if you were a brand new wizard out of Hogwarts, you grew up fast: you grew up before you had found a place to store your old textbooks or your school robes.

In a little cottage with a pretty green piket fence and roses in the garden, this theory was being tested to its very limits. The Potters knew all about growing up fast: Lily and James were married the summer after graduation. They bought the sweet little place in the village soon after and set up a rowdy but well-managed household (the rowdy belonging to the Mister and the well-managed entirely due - as she would point out - to his red headed, fast-tempered wife). And in two years since graduating, they had got very used to that. Lily and James got used to doing their own dishes and weeding the garden and waiting up for each other. The got used to (or rather Lily became used to) the parades of loud young men coming through at all hours of the night and demanding a couch cushion to spare: Lily had set up a guest room. It was comfortable. It was day-by-day comfort: exactly what they needed.

And then everything turned on its head. Everything, always, so easily does. And once again the Potters got lucky because once again, they couldn't complain.

Harry James Potter. Lily opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling a moment. Harry Potter. He was warm against her side, breathing little puffs of hot air against her. She didn't remember them falling asleep, but there they were. A kind of drowsiness was still over her - the sun felt so new in the sky still. Little Harry who was already losing his shock of blakc, black infant hair. Asleep at her side...

But that hit Lily suddenly quite hard. Why was he there, curled up against her, the little cradle they had set up beside their bed. Here she was, practically a giant beside him - at any moment poised to roll over and crush her under him.

Lily was usually a very sensible type of person (as long as her temper was in grip); she like to be in control of things, and she generally didn't consider herself petty. But this though panicked her so very completely, she could barely express herself. She withdrew her arm from around him very carefully and rolled on her side, her cheeks flushed with concern.

Yes, there he was. All in one piece, breathing heavily, tiny fingers all balled up. Lily very gently ran a finger through his downy hair and breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. As the relief passed though, a sickening anger rose through her: How could she have fallen asleep and not though? Where was James and why had he let her? Something - anything - could have happened. Frustrated and still on the brink of tiredness (new motherhood was a lot of wonderful and happy things, but it didn't offer very much rest), Lily pushed her red hair back out of her eyes and bent her head to kiss Harry gently. The tiny breathy sound he made in response was enough to flutter her heart and she fell back on the pillow again, still scolding herself perpetually, but feeling a heavy tiredness in her legs that would prevent her from pursuing James personally and telling him off as was something of her impulse.

Who knew the Potter household - with all its running around and disagreeing and noisy dinners - had room for three. But, since they'd come back from the hospital yesterday, it seemed there could never have been a time when the world hadn't shifted to accommodate happily oblivious Harry: oblivious and peaceful - Lily reminded herself angrily - despite his own parents' joint effort to smother him in his sleep. If she felt something like an angry tear in her eye, she ignored it. She hated, hated, hated thinking she wasn't ready for this. She knew she was ready every time she laid eyes on him again. But if she was ready, how could she have made so stupid a mistake?

[Kit]

Dawn. For years now Molly Weasley had risen with the sun, cradling and soothing and cooing to babies that hadn’t yet learned that darkness outside meant sleep. She had risen before the sun on many different occasions; for Bill and Charlie, who were just plain loud. For Percy, her collicky one who could wake at a moment’s notice. For Fred and George, who even as month-old infants could play a trick on their dear mum by trading off howls, first one, and then the other, until it was impossible to remember who needed what. And then Ronald, who was still crying at odd hours, afraid of the dark and odd shadows.

But this morning was different, somehow. Tiny Ronnie had slept through the night in his cot, and Molly was fresh-faced as she rose from her bed and swapped patched nightgown for patched robes. Though he was awake, Arthur was not yet out of bed – but, Molly knew with a small smile, he would be once the twins woke up. The older boys could dress themselves, and Arthur knew enough house magic to conjure up something in the form of breakfast. Yes, today was different.

Today, there was a new baby. No matter how many births Molly had gone through herself, the thought of a new baby made warmth course through the woman, and a smile split her face, complete with dimples that were virtually unheard of in the Prewett family. She hummed under her breath as she fastened her robes, checking to see that the latest bit of stitching had not come undone.

“Good morning, Ron.” She whispered before leaving, as always the proud mum as she admired peach-fuzz hair and tiny fingers that curled around his little stuffed hippogriff. Then Molly was off down the stairs and through the cluttered kitchen, thinking that for all the hatred and horrible things going on in the world, there would at least be a proud mother.

Molly’s spirits faded as she stepped outside into the yard, carefully avoiding boots strewn about and the chickens that pecked sleepily along the wet morning grass. (Would Arthur remember to feed the chickens? Molly decided that he would, or one of the boys would.) The woman strode to the gate, reminded as always just what the reasoning was behind their anti-apparition spells. For the children sleeping in the lopsided house behind her, this world would be a harrowing and dangerous place, even if by some miracle He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were to be defeated. She had always wanted a family, and been blessed to see others such as Lily Potter start their own, but was that just a selfish wish? To bring children into a world that was no longer safe for them?

It hardly mattered today, because today Molly would be meeting the newest child of the Order of the Phoenix. She stepped outside the gate and with a practiced turn disapparated on the spot...

Only to reappear outside the front garden gate to the little house in Godric’s Hollow. Molly smiled once her senses had been regained – dreadful way of traveling, apparition was – and as she straightened her robes, she hurried up the garden path to the front door, eager to see the mother and baby that had so been bragged about. “Lily.” She called softly, wondering if Harry had given his mother the sort of night that newborns almost always did. “Lily, it’s Molly Weasley.” Motherhood could be a proud time, Molly knew, but she also knew that it could frankly be terrifying. If she could at least provide a good hot breakfast, well, that would be something.

[Cora]

The Order of the Phoenix was, speaking honestly, sometimes ineffectual. They were, afterall, fighting the largest force of evil there was. They were good-hearted and determined and all very talented, but there wasn't a lot on their side. What was on their side though was a strong community and close bonds: that they knew each other by name and cooked each other dinner and asked after each others' familes. And, yes, now here there were: families of the brightest Hogwarts pupils ever set on the paths of Good, little blinking beamy children to praise and gloat over and fight for. It was a new time. They weren't always lucky, but the picture just kept getting bigger and bigger. Closer and closer to home.

Perhpas it was selfish to understand a war better when you had a child to stand for - even if you had been standing for the Right the whole time. It might be wrong - Lily had considered it might be, but it was unavoidable. Well. It was really too early to be making sweeping statements about children (or thinking about fighting, in all honesty), she thought. But you lay in bed with one and you couldn't quite stop yourself thinking about that sort of thing.

“Lily, it’s Molly Weasley.”

Lily had been lying in bed, trying not to move and disturb the baby, and cursing herself. There was a certain amount of nights you could keep yourself up through and then, eventually, it caught up to you - even if you were organised, practical Lily Evans - it did catch up to you and you came out bothered and frustrated with life and, primarily yourself - your your absent husband who should have been watching out for things if he was going to let you sleep for so long. And of course, you couldn't move. Because if you moved, Harry would have to give up sleeping too and the poor, fussy thing slept so little, it seemed. Lily had always thought, before she had one of her own, that babies slept too much. Now she was being forced to rethink the position.

All of this thinking (slightly muddled) was interrupted by the voice drifting through the room. Lily craned her neck again to see the door, blinking slightly to get a hold of things. It was only then that she realised she had been flustered enough - panicked enough about the situation - that she was a little teary. Shifting an arm, she riped at her face, knowing she looked sleepy and probably flustered anyway so it wouldn't make much of a difference.

Of course she recognised the shock of red curls and distinctly big presence that came with Molly Weasley. Lily smiled a somewhat tired smile - the smile of someone who hasn't been out of bed in a while- and shifted herself into a slightly more upright position, maneuvering quite cleverly around the baby. This was a tricky operation and required some concentration, but once she was up, she set her expression on Molly again.

"Molly - hi!," she said, speaking in a somewhat quiet voice, but pretty sure now that Harry was going to stay peaceful, "I'm sorry, I'm really not dressed or anything, but please come in." She brushed her hair off her forehead again, wondering absently if there was even a chair in the room or not and then thinking again... "Did James let you in? Is he downstairs?"

[Kit]

As she began opening the front door, Molly drew her robes more closely about herself, wondering vaguely at the way the air seemed to be too chilly for an August morning. It seemed as though the whole world had descended into a chill, hopeless and unwilling to provide the clear, hot summer mornings that Molly remembered from her own childhood. To keep her mind off such things, though, Molly gazed around at the little home as she let the door settle closed behind her.

The Burrow had been much like this once, when she and Arthur had first married. When Bill had come along there had only been one bedroom, and none of the lopsided additions that their once small cottage now supported. It had been cozy, a first home meant for a couple still adjusting to marriage, and as Molly climbed the stairs she was reminded of those days. Lily was almost a younger picture of herself, down to the red hair, but her personality was all her own.

Molly paused in the doorway to the bedroom, hearing Lily’s voice. She was tired, Molly knew at once, and who could blame her? New mothers were supposed to be radiant, that was true, but those without children expected radiance without exhaustion. She recognized the bags under the other woman’s eyes, and the particular brand of worry in her face that applied to children.

With an ease that belied her many years of moving around sleeping infants, Molly stepped into the room and settled onto the edge of the bed beside Lily, smiling in complete understanding. “After the first birth, Merlin knows I didn’t move from bed for at least a week.” She said, glancing to the warm little bundle with a maternal eye. He was so tiny, but obviously healthy – the healers and midwives at Mungo’s wouldn’t have released him had he not been so – but as it was Molly longed to hold him, to feel his weight in her arms.

Her eyebrows knit into a concerned frown at the mention of James. “Why…no. The door was unlatched when I came, so I thought…” Molly’s voice trailed off, and then her voice hardened ever so slightly as she suddenly understood. “Why, I’ll give James a good thrashing. Out with the boys, I expect.” And with the look in her face, it was hard to dispute the fact that Molly quite possibly could have turned James over on her knee, had she been given the chance. “Out with the boys when he’s a boy right here who needs him most.”

Her eyes trailed to Lily’s red-rimmed eyes and Molly sighed, remembering the one occasion in which Arthur had done the same thing. She had given him a good verbal lashing that night, but all had been well again. At the very least, Arthur had stayed away from firewhiskey from then on.

“Come on, dear.” Molly patted Lily’s knee, thinking fleetingly just how thin it felt beneath her hand, and motioned to the door. “Get dressed. I’ll make a hot breakfast and heat some milk for the baby.” Her face softened, looking at Harry again. “And I want to see his eyes. It’s all over the Order that he shares your eyes.”

[Cora]

at Gven with the addition of nursery (so long to the guest room) and the surplus of colourful plastic toys and soft surfaces, the house at Godric's Hollow had an orderliness to it. It felt like a family's home but a very young family. A family who was accommodating a new comer - accommodating happily, mind, but all the same - rather than building around a family, as the Weasleys had done. It was all very new, afterall.

Lily watched Molly enter, admiring the ease with which the older woman navigated the room. Lily had always liked Molly Weasley's passion and drive. She had never before, however, felt a solidarity with the other woman. Molly always had an armful of children and good advice, along with good food. Lily had, of course, appreciated this, now, watching the other redhead enter and perch on the bed, she felt she actually understood the other woman, just as she had suddenly thought she understood her own mother as she never had before the very moment Harry touched her arms for the first time.

Not only had Lily not dreamed of such domestic things, in her secret prideful way, she might have even believed she was above them. It just went to show that life would call you out on your own hypocrisies eventually.

“After the first birth, Merlin knows I didn’t move from bed for at least a week.”

Impressed that the other woman seemed to know immediately the problem, Lily glanced at the peaceful Harry. "They moved us out from the hospital, but other than that I've been useless," she remarked, not bitterly, certainly. But she did feel that. She didn't begrudge the child a moment of it because she knew instinctively, that she owed him every moment of her attention, but it was so strange to suddenly be so uselss and not mind. And at any other point in her life, oh how she would have minded. "I might have forgotten how to do anything except feed him and wish I was asleep." She smiled faintly again at herself.

“Why, I’ll give James a good thrashing. Out with the boys, I expect.”

Lily frowned. The door unlatched...Thank god it was only Molly Weasley who happened by. There was a moment again of that uninvited panic inside her at the very thought of herself asleep beside Harry, the door unlocked...But then she took a firm hold on herself. Concentrate, Lily. "You might not get to him first. I don't think he'd go off somewhere on a whim - not this early anyway. He gets some calls sometimes," She paused and her frown deepened, "But just leaving the door open and me asleep..." James was very good. He'd had to adapt very fast to a life-changing sort of surprise. Lily was always impressed. But still - both of them. Making mistakes like this.

“Get dressed. I’ll make a hot breakfast and heat some milk for the baby."

So she had to smile at that offer. It was scary to think they weren't quite as capable as they liked to think. Terrifying, actually. But here was 'The Order's presence around them: always looking out for each other. "You really shouldn't have, Molly. It's too kind." But it was...so tepting.

"It’s all over the Order that he shares your eyes.”

There. A true, proud smile of a new mother. "All over already? He'll have quite a reputation to live up to. He does - it's unusual, the green." She was already bending, carefully carefully folding hi in her arms, against her chest, "Is it too self-centred of me to think you might want to hold him? He's calm now, but he might be grumpy if he wakes...you must be good with them though, by now."

[Kit]

Deep down, though Lily might not be able to see it yet, Molly knew that this young woman would be a good mother. There was something in the way she looked at Harry, tired but utterly devoted to this new, tiny presence. She was willing to make herself exhausted for this child, and her family, and that spoke to Molly in ways that she hadn’t expected. It was perfectly familiar to Molly, and while Arthur – wonderful, amazing husband he was – may never have quite gotten what Molly was feeling, Lily certainly did.

“That feeling will pass.” Molly told her firmly, but there was compassion in her voice as she reached to plump up a pillow, readying the bed for making. “When I had Bill, Arthur was at the office all day most days, and the healer had told me to stay in bed.” A faint grimace crossed her face at the memory. “His birth was not an easy one, mind. The first time never is easy, and oh, did Bill fight me. But I would lay there watching him, and being scared to death that something might happen, and I would be too weak to get up and do something. Useless, like, you understand.”

She stood then, robes swishing around her ankles in a merry sort of way as if to dismiss all the horrid thoughts. “Ah, now don’t worry.” Molly told her, soundly scolding herself for worrying poor Lily to death. “I’m sure that he did get an urgent owl. It will take time to remember that this lad is here now.” She nodded to Harry, eyes lingering on the baby, wondering just what the future might hold for him. “And time to remember that you can’t just go gallivanting around, two days after labor, if someone unsavory does open the door.” There was a kind smile on Molly’s face, though internally she was promising herself that next time she saw James, she would give him a sound scolding.

“You know.” Molly continued, taking the approach that talking was the best way to soothe worries and make Lily less concerned for the time being. “I never was sure I would be a mother, good or otherwise.” She went about drawing the curtains, letting pale morning sunlight in, and then took hold of Lily’s elbow to help her to the chest of drawers. “When Bill was born, I felt so horrible. I…I thought that he looked part garden gnome!”

It was something that Molly had never told anyone before, but her eyes twinkled. Years later, the shame of thinking such a thing about her firstborn child had worn off. “I was convinced that something was wrong, and that I was just not ready.” Unconsciously Molly smoothed a hand over her belly, remembering. “But you just let me make breakfast. It’s hard enough, witches nowadays being expected to be up and about right after giving birth.”

She clucked her tongue. “Oh yes, everyone in the Order knows of Harry by now. How could they not, with James’ friends shouting it from the rooftops?” Molly paused, flattered and secretly glad to hold the baby. She peered at the little bundle, reminded forcefully of her own little ones. With a small nod, Molly held out her arms, angling them so that the transition would be a smooth one. “My, isn’t he beautiful, though?” Molly murmured, and when Harry mewled in his sleep, she corrected herself. “So sorry…handsome. Devilish good looks, I should say.”

She sat there beside Lily, the two of them caught up in a moment that only mothers could experience. After a moment, Molly cleared her throat softly and stood. “I’ll put the kettle on and start breakfast. Don’t listen to the healers and their orders of light food. Not good for you, or the baby.” Molly clucked again in disapproval, and disappeared into the hallway and down the stairs, still clucking like a mother hen.

[Cora]

Deep down, Lily also knew she was meant to be a mother. In fact, it was increasingly less and less 'deep' that she found herself knowing this. It was a surprise of a destiny, to be frank, but such a simple one. And one that just fit, without you even expecting it. No one said there wouldn't be surprises, that's for sure.

“His birth was not an easy one, mind. The first time never is easy, and oh, did Bill fight me. But I would lay there watching him, and being scared to death that something might happen, and I would be too weak to get up and do something. Useless, like, you understand.”

Lily sighed and nodded, "I think I'm lucky. Harry doesn't sleep much and he's got a lot of screaming in him, but he's pretty good. It could be easier, but it could be a lot harder, and I try not to complain." It was true. One didn't want to complain. One hardly could with a little warm bundle in your arms. It was worth not sleeping, Lily found, to have all three of them on the bed together, a moment of peace. Of course, it was more comforting all together when you thought you were doing a good job of things. When you thought you weren't about to both get your own baby...enough, she told herself. No point becoming angry again. "Some days it's harder than others," she admitted quietly. And, of course, they were still only a few days in. But it seemed so much longer already.

“When Bill was born, I felt so horrible. I…I thought that he looked part garden gnome!”

The young woman's good humour showed its face at that and Lily laughed lightly at Molly's confession, shaking her head down at the sleeping child by her. "Don't they, though! Like a little old man, I thought: all wrinkled up." she tucked the blanket up around Harry absently, smiling down and then up at her guest, "James would panic if I told him. He's already personally invested in Harry's good looks. The poor boy won't hear the end of it for another decade." she was smiling now, properly. It was nice to have little jokes like that with someone who knew - who knew not because she'd delivered a hundred children but because she'd brought them out herself, who was a mother practically professionally. Molly already had this long sorted out. Of course, Lily's mum had been there, but your own mother and a friend who was one were quite different.

“But you just let me make breakfast. It’s hard enough, witches nowadays being expected to be up and about right after giving birth.”

Lily sighed, pretending to give in to the request with hesitation, but honestly already grateful. "I'd prefer to be home than at the hospital though. At Mungo's, I couldn't help thinking something had to go wrong any moment...that or trying to jump up and work along with them. It's much more peaceful here." She was already pulling herself up properly, readying to get out of bed. Finally. "Thanks, Molly. It's so nice of you to come. I'll return the favour one day soon."

“So sorry…handsome. Devilish good looks, I should say.”

As Molly took the baby off her hands, Lily swung herself up, determined. As she moved to her dresser and pulled a simple blue dress on over the slip she was already wearing, she kept her eyes fondly on the pair of them. Molly was, really, a hero of some sort, Lily considered. She had to be. Ther were boys around her on every side. And, she remembered suddenly, a new one of her own. Honestly surprised for a moment that Molly could bear to part with her own baby for a moment (even seeing Harry in someone else's arms - no matter how practiced - made her anxious if she lost sight of them for a moment, while pulling her dress over her head, looking on her dresser for an elastic to hold her hair in a braid). Finally dressed passably, she followed Molly to the kitchen, feeling better already to be on her own legs. "James brought me dinner yesterday. It was a sweet attempt, anyway. But how are yours, Molly? How old is Ronald now - is Arthur seeing him"

[Kit]

“You’re very lucky.” Molly agreed with a smile, looking at the baby boy. “The screams may drive you a bit mad, but that’s the worst of it. He will learn to sleep soon, and then you’ll wish that he was awake more to see his beautiful eyes.” She leaned backwards slightly to get a better look at his sleeping face. “This is the hardest week, Lily, but once you’re up and about there will be no time for brooding.”

When all of her children had been born, Molly had half-expected Arthur to go mad with her in bed. She had felt like going mad, lying in bed with nothing to take her mind off the crying baby except for a tattered Witch Weekly. But it had been on the healers’ instructions, especially after the twins’ birth where more damage had been done than expected, and Molly had been meek enough after labor to obey. A week of bedrest had been all she had been able to take, honestly enough, and then she was back to the hearth and kettle, new baby cradled in her arms at all times.

Molly smiled, genuinely happy to have made Lily smile. “I daren’t tell Arthur those thoughts, even after all these years. He was frightened enough when Percy came out with a pointed head, the dear.” She could remember it clearly, and smiled at the memory of Arthur pacing the floor frantically, hardly giving the nurse time to explain. “Because some babies are born like that, you understand. The pressure and such changes their soft heads for a time. He was convinced that Percy was swapped at birth with some creature or another, and had me half-convinced before the healer explained.”

But not this little dear. Harry’s head was perfect, and though he did look like a tiny old man as Lily had laughed, he was still the perfect baby. “So best to keep it among ourselves. Harry will grow to be a dashing lad and James will never be happier.”

If, Molly thought with a mental frown, he were to ever show back up.

With a knowing smile, Molly clambered to her feet, seeing right through Lily’s hesitation. No matter what, it was always nice to be pampered a day or two, especially after such an ordeal. And there was nothing like coming home to real, comforting food rather than the mass-produced vitals that St. Mungo’s provided. “Home is always much nicer than the hospital.” Molly nodded. She had given birth to each child at St. Mungo’s (though Ron had very nearly been born in the living room), but given the choice, Molly would have preferred the Burrow.

Harry came easily into her arms and Molly sighed, comforted by the familiar warm weight in her arms. It was strange to look down and see a shock of dark hair rather than the peach-fuzz that all of her babies had sported at such an age. “Now, then.” Molly whispered, beginning to rock. It was a slight movement, but her entire body rocked seamlessly, soothing. “Your mummy’s getting dressed, and I think that you’re ready for a bit of milk.” Over her shoulder, she inquired, “Is he at all adverse to regular milk?”

When Lily finished, Molly moved out the doorway and down the stairs to the kitchen, feeling Harry stir sleepily. “Mine are fine, dear. The twins keep me running, and the three older ones are busy with schoolwork, but fine.” She paused at the mention of Ron, smiling. “Ronnie is five months old, just recently, and Arthur is watching him for the morning.”

Carefully, Molly shifted Harry in her arms so that she could flick her wand in the direction of the kitchen table; squashy pillows appeared in one of the chairs for Lily, good for resting in. “Now..how do you take your eggs, Lily?” With another flick of the wand, a kettle was set to boil, and bread was slicing itself in one corner. It was odd to be doing such familiar tasks in a different home, and Molly briefly wished for her own kitchen, but went to settle Harry back into his mother’s arms before retrieving cups from the cupboard.

[Cora]

What was the little Godric's Hollow home like? Lily kept it clean and organised. The home was furnished comfortably, in a modern fashion, with hard wood floors always swept and matching towel sets. The domesticity suited Lily in a way she wouldn't have imagined. She hadn't thought she was exceptionally family or home based and she would never have wished in her teenage years to be tied to husband home and baby, of all things: to have put her career and even her battles for the Order on hold. It hadn't been a dream but, all the same, somehow it was a dream come true. And it was just another proof that life never did what you expected - even when you thought you were the sort who had things planned.

“This is the hardest week, Lily, but once you’re up and about there will be no time for brooding.”

Thinking back a year or so, this was not at all the sort of 'hard' Lily would have seen in her life. Young and determined, she'd rented out the little flat in London and thrown herself into a promising career.
Nights after her practical shifts, Lily would barely have had energy for anything but the trip home and a cup of tea on her new sofa. She'd push through her readings and papers for classes the next day and drop off at some unreasonable hour. She'd poured over documents for the Order and bickered her head off with Sirius. Then she'd thought life was demanding: now she knew so much better.

"I guess it is hard, but it's a good challenge for myself: not the kind I was ever expecting, to be honest." And she had to laugh at herself. Her teachers at school had remarked that Miss Evans was up for anything they threw at her. If only they'd known... "I'm lucky to get this sort of surprise."

"Harry will grow to be a dashing lad and James will never be happier.”

Lily nodded through Molly's account of Percy's birth. She'd heard all sorts of horror stories about births gone...surprising. Harry hadn't made life too difficult for her though. Not any harder than it needed to be. He was good already, she thought. Or, maybe, she was just deluded in adoration of her only son. This was quite possible but, if so, it was a happy delusion: comfy and warm.

"James is already a lantern of delight - planning to fly Harry all over the world and buy him ever type of quidditch ball you can imagine. I can't blame him, of course." Lily kept her own disgruntledness with her husband to herself for the time being, wiping her eyes furtively as they made their way out of the room. She didn't like being so emotional about everything. She could deal with James later. Her own irresponsibility...now wasn't the time to face it.

"“Is he at all adverse to regular milk?”

Lily hesitated a moment before self-consciously shaking her head. "I don't think so - should he be? He isn't fussy..." She was somewhat hesitant and automatically embarrassed by her own lack of expertise. He was her child afterall! But Molly held him so easily seemed to automatically know all the answers. Even determined not ot let her self-criticism break through, Lily couldn't help feeling a little...unprepared in the face of Molly Weasley the ultimate care-giver.

She reached the kitchen a few steps behind her guest and automatically leaned up against the table. It was good to be on her own feet, but at the same time, she was feeling the weight of it.

“Ronnie is five months old, just recently, and Arthur is watching him for the morning.”

"When Harry's got a bit more character about him, you'll have to bring Ronald around. Harry adores you already and I'm sure the same would apply to your boys." Her eyes were fixed on Harry again, fondly, adoringly. It was as if her whole self - previously so self assured and directed, as any acquaintance would tell you, - was tied up in the tiny form snuggling into the other red-haired woman. It was quite extraordinary and - if Lily hadn't been afraid to admit it - at the same time as wonderful, somewhat frightening. Frightening because, even after falling in love with James, she'd never though she could be so invested in another being that her whole self came secondary to a tiny, tiny child's every breath. It was exhilarating and breath-taking, but not entirely comfortable, not yet. And that was there, along with the nagging fear that she wasn't quite competent, but something she wasn't allowing herself address because she knew - instinctively - that she had to be wrong for feeling anything that wasn't utter bliss. Especially when that bliss was there as well.

“Now..how do you take your eggs, Lily?”

She looked up sharply, surprised, having been caught in her own thoughts. "Oh. Just sunny-side-up, please. Do you need any help?"

[Kit]

[[OOC: Sorry for the late reply!!!!]]

She smiled at Lily’s laugh, already harkening back to her own first baby. Bill had been terrifying, in his own little way. Molly had been so scared of hardly touching him, for fear that he would break into pieces, and it had been a long time before she was comfortable enough with him to jiggle him lightly, or toss him a foot in the air, or any other dozen things that should have felt natural. “It’s a very big surprise.” Molly admitted with a nod. “All sorts of new emotions, and you’d never think such a tiny thing could mean so much.” She shook her head. “Goodness, me, and here I am sounding like a vicar when you need me out of your way.”

Molly gave a bit of a laugh, picturing in her mind a radiant James clutching his son while they flew. Yes, that was James, through and through. She had graduated from Hogwarts shortly before James and Lily had started, so she had never seen James there, but she had heard all the stories. It had been rumored that James was a mischevious one, and his friends no better, and the thought made Molly shake her head again.

A blush colored Molly’s cheeks, and she shifted the baby in her arms carefully. “Lily – I am sorry. I know this is all a bit of a…well, an invasion.” It was in Molly’s nature, truth be told. She was a take-charge woman, bred into her after six children and a husband who worked long hours to support the family. In such a small home and a small family, Molly realized that her actions seemed loud. Over the top. She glanced to Lily apologetically. “But no..if he’s not fussing, regular milk is fine for his belly.”

After a pause, “You’re doing a fine job, Lily. Much better than any new mother I knew, and that’s the truth.” And it really was. Molly had come to Godric’s Hollow with fear dark in her chest, that Lily wouldn’t be holding up in these times with a new baby and James in his capacity as an Auror. But no, to her delight Lily seemed to be thriving, if bogged down a bit with the same emotions all new mothers experienced.

Molly moved about the cottage kitchen easily, only hesitating when she couldn’t find a utensil, or when she was glancing back to make sure that Lily was settling into her chair easily. A tiny pang of homesickness sounded in her heart, but it was a brief feeling. The Burrow would be fine without her for a few hours, and she would be fine without it. In the past few years or so, Molly had found herself growing too attached to her home, treating it as her sanctuary and sometimes being too afraid to leave it. The times were dangerous, and she wanted desperately to convince herself that the house itself could protect her.

“Babies love their mother and father first, and then anyone who feeds them second.” Molly told Lily with a mischevious wink, as she moved to settle him into Lily’s arms. “And keeps them warm.” She patted her belly with a little laugh; Molly would never be ashamed of the bit of curve that had developed with her own babies.

“I’m sure Ronnie and the other boys will love Harry. Mind you, the twins are already a handful by themselves, always setting things on fire.” A little worried crease settled over Molly’s eyes, but she shook it away. “Mind you, I’ve set them straight, and they’ve never set anyone on fire. It’s those stories of dragons that Bill and Charlie insist on telling them.” Molly readied the frying pan and clucked her tongue, determined to keep spirits high. “But if you could hand me the mug…yes, that one, dear.” Molly nodded at a mug near Lily, her hands full. “You rest. Heaven’s knows that you need it now and then.”