Speed Dating.

With a shake of his head as he finished placing the appropriate folders on the table –one set for each of the people in charge of the organization of this event-, and a mug of steaming water for coffee or tea depending on each individual preference, Harry tossed around in his head the possibility of just tossing it all down and storming out. He was missing valuable time he could be spending with Ron to be here, planning on event he had no interest to be in –he’d even gone as far as begging Ginny to just donate money to a charity if she wished. Ever since they’d started having children, it was her custom: apparently she believed that if, right before giving birth, she gave a significant amount to one charity or another, the child about to be brought into the world would have good karma. Funny enough, she didn’t quite get into all that good luck stuff when she wasn’t with child –as a matter of fact, when not pregnant she made it a point to remind Harry every single day that he needed to find a way to make sure Teddy understood his black furred friend did not exist. But then, her stomach started growing, and she’d go as far as wailing that it did, and that it was a grim, and that it was there to indicate poor fortune for one of the family.

Apparently, third time was the charm, as with their third child she’d taken it all to a much higher stance: no longer did she wish to just give their own money to charity, but to set up a benefit. It had been all very well when she’d just been sending owls back and forth with other women Harry had no idea the names of planning the event out –but it twisted towards a terrible surprise when she’d informed him he would be helping out too. There’d been something about how his face and his name would attract even more people, but he’d been too preoccupied gapping at her to actually hear her out. Yet no amount of complaining and insisting he couldn’t had been enough to get him off the hook –and then she’d simply dismissed his complaints by suddenly having the urge to eat strawberries. With mayonnaise. From the type of foods she’d been craving lately, Harry was quite certain their third child was going to be an odd one.

“At what time are they all arriving?” He glanced towards Ginny as he finished placing the final folder. His wife was more pregnant than ever she had been, round stomach protruding to form a massive ball that almost seemed to cover the otherwise petite woman’s face. Scrunching her eyes together, she shook her head, and he understood: Ginny had not yet gotten used to feeling her kids kicking in her belly. Harry, on the other hand, found it delightful: hurrying forwards, he placed his hand on her stomach and smiled, just as he heard the door open behind him and glanced up to see whom had arrived.

Hogsmeade was a winter wonderland, the sort of place one never grew tired of, no matter how cold it got. There was a warmth to the cobble-street town and its inhabitants. (And a wonderful if sometimes pink-cheek-inducing nostalgia to its various landmarks). The glow from the teashop made Molly smile from two doors away as she walked toward it. Less than a minute later, she reached for Puddifoot's door.

“Hi,” she greeted with a smile, eyes latching on the famous couple in charge of the charity event as she stepped inside. She stopped sort of funnily, still latched on to the doorknob. She hoped she wasn’t interrupting. It looked like the sort of moment that shouldn’t be interrupted-- Harry Potter with his hands on his wife’s very pregnant belly.

Her smile seemed to be fighting the urge to form a surprised ooh expression, but she recovered by smiling harder as she let go of the doorknob and carefully loosened her scarf. The last time she had properly seen Ginny in person, the youngest Weasley had been considerably less pregnant-looking-- even though they’d been sharing owls and the occasional Floo message about the charity event as recently as yesterday. But Molly knew those things sped up in the last trimester, and it seemed like people who had already had a couple of kids got faster and faster each time. Maybe one gave the future babies more traction. She hung her cloak and scarf near the door and moved toward them, a small charmed box of various party-planning things and some baked goods nestled under one arm. “Oooh, look at you, you have the glow and everything,” she gushed somewhat longingly as she glanced over Ginny, guessing that it had to be nearly time. “How are you two?” Her eyes returned to their faces, and she looked from the famed quidditch player to the famed auror. “Ready for this event?” Her grin widened still.

A second later, the door swung open again, and CeeCee bustled through. Flyaway curls bouncing freely as she clutched a peacock-patterned folder to her chest, she gave them all a brilliant, toothy smile, the expression matching the sunny shade of her dress. “Hello!” she beamed as she strode towards them– Molly, Ginny and The Boy Who Lived.

And then, abruptly, she stopped, finally taking in what she had just walked in on. Her grin melted into a small ‘o’ of surprise.

Babies. CeeCee loved babies; they were adorable little prunes full of noise and wonder, cute even when they howled themselves puce like the whole world was a personal affront (although she admitted they’d be cuter from a distance then). She just wished she was any good with them (like some morons who shan’t be mentioned, it was so unfair)…

But! That was neither here nor there, and she was at Puddifoot’s for a reason. Her gaze lifting from the very round curve of Ginny’s belly, it returned as a rather bashful, but no less sincere smile. She let door quietly shut behind her. “Ginny,” the redhead drew a full-blown grin, “Ginny’s husband—Mr. Potter,” a slightly mischievous one. The third– “Molly!” –got an exuberant one-armed hug, from which she was quickly released. Stepping back, CeeCee straightened, smoothing a hand over the knitted front of her sweater in a stab at professionalism. “I’m not late, am I? I made lists. Is Pandora in?” Distractedly, she handed off the folder to… someone, and strode up to the back, peeling off her scarf as she went. “Pandoraaa.”

The slight pounding against his hand was the most pleasant sensation in the world, and Harry couldn’t have said he was happy for it to be interrupted by the arriving figures. His wife, however, seemed ready to forget she was pregnant and much more determined to greet the two witches: heavily and quite awkwardly, the redhead managed to push into a standing position, a wide smile on her face as she pressed one hand to her stomach, her other arm curving around her lower back as if holding herself together –though Harry, after two and a half pregnancies, was quite aware of the mechanics of her body posture: fact was, the large belly put so much weight on her body, making her back ache almost constantly. “Molly! CeeCee!” She exclaimed, all gleefulness. “Thanks for deciding to participate,” She said, before reaching back towards Harry –a clear indication she needed help sitting down.

Gingerly, Harry helped Ginny back into her chair, before smiling himself at the two women –although his eyes were red with the need to sleep, and he was obviously exhausted, he would do his best to be nice. “Hi, girls,” He greeted, chuckling, as CeeCee maneuvered around, calling out for Pandora Puddifoot. “I’m sure she’s somewhere in the shop,” He mentioned casually, laying a careful hand on his wife’s shoulder.

Molly returned CeeCee’s hug, entangling an arm around the brunette whose children books and food and coffee she adored. “How are you? How’s Ben?” She asked. Though Molly would have helped no matter what, and was, in fact, used to these sorts of events through work, it was nice to see more than one familiar face. Holiday preparations were the most fun when one had friends to bounce the cheer off of. (Casper would surely see his share of pink biscuits and heart-shaped everything in the weeks leading up to the 14th; they would have their own date, too, of course.) It was more than planning a holiday party, of course. Charity events were some of the most rewarding for Molly.

She again looked back to Harry and Ginny, watching them and the very obvious baby bump between them. Molly’s hope that she might one day be in a similar situation, with a tummy considerably rounder than the one she had now and Casper having to help her do simple things, like balancing her way into a chair, was a quickened heartbeat and a nostalgic smile: that particular kind of nostalgia for something she had not experienced, not to the same extent.

Her eyes were drawn to CeeCee’s folder, which she took before her her gazed flittered toward the back of the shop, expecting Pandora to materialize as the other woman called for her, but so far the shop’s owner hadn’t made an appearance. She was probably very busy making other preparations, Molly thought; hopefully they would get to say hello before the evening concluded. “Have you already randomly paired everyone? Should we start by doing that?” She asked. Wizards could pull more than rabbits from hats! Maybe someone would have a genuinely good date, meet someone they truly liked at the event. “Or if that’s done, we could decide on the decorations and inventory what we have and figure out what we still need. Is January too soon to start putting them up?” She asked, her smile a bit guilty.