That it was real, the real thing, and not just cute bits and bobs of Impending Baby (yarn, sweet wallpaper, plush toys, and the little sweaters Molly had once dreaded to pass in windows), was so heart-wrenching and wonderful at the same time that it was a marvel Molly’s face hadn’t required a spell to stop the smiling. Really, it seemed stuck. One might have thought it would hurt to smile so much… but most of the people who knew Molly thankfully knew better.

Besides, there had been plenty of yawns, too. And o-shapes, and happy sighs, and occasional looks of horror. That babies barely larger than Casper’s outstretched palms could produce so much… stuff… was equal parts scary and brilliant. But Molly had waited over a decade for it, and it was part of strange thrill of parenthood. She was shamelessly becoming one of those mothers who found even the gross and messy bits endearing. It had only taken a trip home and an unwitting night of sleep.

And now it had been weeks. Weeks with the tiny person whom she couldn’t believe she’d lived so long without. And the way his tininess seemed to double overnight, sometimes…

Molly had already told Frank about six times how sad she was that she hadn’t gotten to see him grow up like this. And had cast slightly more doubtful looks at the twiggy girl beyond, with gentle, vague suggestions of what awaited him. Maybe. Possibly. Presumably not so soon. Frank’s girlfriend had plenty of time to grow up before parenthood.

As the mobile spun lightly overhead, Molly pointed at dancing chess pieces. But that was the extent of the chess education she planned to provide. It was Casper’s territory, and she had full faith that her maddeningly logical husband would school their newborn in the game before he could say Daddy. (Which only made her love him more.)

“Do you think if we get him one of those baby chess sets, it might be a little less violent than the normal ones?” She asked, grinning wide as she held out their newest family member as if he were the kitten that Casper couldn’t resist. Despite the whirl of the mobile over the cot, and, indeed, the jitter and jumble of a few other magically inclined toys in the new nursery, the baby was giving his equally new parents a willing workout, having barely left either of their arms all morning.

Creatures who also could not walk on hind legs lurked near, unaccustomed to the neglect.

The wait was over way too fast. With all the house preparations and gardening he’d been doing, not to mention real work, Casper had had his hands full for months now. Add into that the summer visitor that they’d had and Molly’s bakery... it was anyone’s guess how he’d not gone crazy.

Then again, Casper enjoyed being busy. It kept him on his toes. This, however, was a different sort of busy. It was the sort that left him exhausted beyond words. He couldn’t believe how much he could love something so tiny. As cool, calm, and collected he came across, he was a face full of grins at home, in the privacy of their cozy cottage.

If he was testier at work because of his lack of sleep, it seemed expected. Very few knew him well enough to ask about the little one and receive an honest response. Casper was waiting for photos to develop for his desk. Then he could just point to the photos instead of answering the same question a dozen times.

Casper sighed as he bent over, eyes rolling for his own effect as he swooped up a discarded toy on the floor. The poor kid couldn’t even play with them yet! The mum insisted on overstimulating the roly-poly human before he could even properly grasp them. Everything went into the curious boy’s mouth, anyway. He gnawed on everything.

Standing back up, he stretched with a soft groan. A yawn escaped before Casper rubbed his eyes, accepting her offering with careful arms. Despite the sometimes overwhelmingly loud screams and cries, there were moments where Casper couldn’t believe their luck. He cradled his son close. “I think it’d be the perfect starter kit. Forrest, you’re going to be a world wizard champion.” A grin spread across his face before he looked up at Molly. Casper leaned over and gave her a soft kiss to her temple.

There was so much he wanted to tell her. How amazing he thought she was, how beautiful she looked despite the horrors he’d seen in the delivery room... so many things. She was strong in ways she didn’t realize. Instead, he just smiled before he sat down with Forrest in the rocking chair. “They’re not violent, Molls. They teach character.” Especially if his son always won.

“The perfect two year kit,” Molly corrected, still grinning back brightly, as if there were no disagreement at all. Starter could mean two years, after all. Three? Perhaps until he made it to Hogwarts. Molly didn’t see any need for toddler possessing an expensive, dangerous chess board full of sharp and aggressive marble pieces. Add cats to the equation and… No. A soft nursery version would do for a long time yet. “He can have the real thing when he gets a wand.”

Eyes were calm and content as she leaned forward a little, forehead pressing to Casper’s mouth. There was comfort in the gesture just as there was in the height difference. If their opinions, too, differed, the ways in which the couple complimented one another evened everything out. Mostly.

The baby between them was certainly the best puzzle piece they’d managed to fit into the sweet adventure of life. “Maybe a little sooner,” she reasoned, laughing. “But just for the character.” Eyes found Casper’s again as Molly straightened up, hands on his hips. It was not a lasting or threatening pose, and one arm soon caved so that her hand was free to explore the pleasant roughness of her husband’s cheek. “If he starts hammering away at village statues with beaters’ bats while yelling check mate, I’m coming after you." Her finger tapped against stubble.

That, or placing bets on the other children’s odds in toy broom races.

The baby’s lips moved and he yawned like his father had, as if he didn’t spend nearly as much time sleeping as he did crying and eating.

Molly tilted her head and studied him from an angle she must have already used, but which felt new. She was constantly discovering things about him, from the tip of his nose to his yet-to-evolve mannerisms. “It’s a good thing he has so many furry friends around to teach him patience. You can’t be good at chess without it.” Even if Molly had a million cats and still lost every game to her husband (save the rare few he let her win on purpose).

Contentment wasn’t the easiest thing for Casper to swallow. Even with their cottage and usually happy marriage, he’d kept busy with side projects and home renovations. When those seemed nearly done, they’d invited a Hogwarts teenager into their home and opened up Molly’s Bakery. And now... they had a lifetime project. It might be his biggest one yet, aside from finding a way to keep cats out of his study.

A half smirk answered her statements. For Molly, he would find someone to hand craft the wizard set just so it wouldn’t be too violent for their newborn. Casper wouldn’t say that, of course. That would be giving in too easily. An eyebrow arched at her wand remark, smirking a little more devilishly. “Some kids inherit a wand...” Best to not go down the road of inappropriate jokes just yet. It was a little too early (or too late?).

Besides, he’d gotten his fill in when her mother had been around. And her father and step-mum and half-sister. Frank was his own brand of joke, so when he was over, Casper didn’t count him. There had been too many visitors as of late.

As if Molly could scare him... but he grinned just the same, looking up at her face and meeting her gaze. “Yes ma’am.” Though that sounded just like boys being boys, to Casper. Maybe once they got there, she would see reason. Or consider that child’s play compared to what he could be doing.

No, no, Forrest would be a well behaved little boy. Just like his mum. Casper smiled softly down at the little guy, free hand gently moving down his chest and abdomen, a soft pet for the currently quiet son.

A scoff answered her as eyes came swinging up to look at Molly in disbelief. That was answer enough for her. “I didn’t grow up with cats.” Then again, Ludo’s chest hair could’ve made up for ‘furry friends.’ Which reminded him... “My mother sent a card. She sent her love.” The humor was thick, hugging onto the words like poison. “She wants to bring my dear sister to meet the grandson she never knew she wanted.” Maybe she could bunk up with Molly’s mum! "I'll bet you she begs your forgiveness for all the harsh things she's ever said when she sees this handsome bloke."

At his joke, which Molly initially took at face value, she giggle and shake her head— and then it hit her, and she looked up, eyes widening. “Some kids inherit a cheeky mouth!” A finger pressed toward her lips, as if he anything Casper said might be picked up by their obviously more-brilliant-than-all son. But Molly wasn’t really bothered by the idea of him discovering things… even cheeky things… as long as they were backed up by thorough family discussions and tales of right and wrong. Sometimes experience was the best teacher.

But newborn was pushing it, for the learning curve.

“Wands come in all shapes and sizes and styles, and they’re ultimately about who you are on the inside,” she said, this time addressing Forrest. If he understood, he made no indication, and continued to enjoy the prime perch of his father’s arm. “It’s what you do with it that counts. Even if your dad is tall, dark, and handsome with a wand to match— he’ll have to agree with me.” (Molly didn’t mean to give her baby a complex.) She looked up at him again, and there was a sparkle of playfulness.

“But don’t you want him to experience things you didn’t?” Even if Molly wanted to give plenty of the same creature comforts she’d had to Forrest, she also wanted him to have things she hadn’t: a huge family (which was already in place, thanks to the Pratts), plenty of new faces, and perhaps a slightly more grounded parent. That was where Casper came him. “Cats are highly logical, really, I don’t know why they aren’t your favorite animal. You would absolutely be a cat, Casper Bagman.”

Molly was an easily distracted witch. Much as she loved to poke at her husband, she was not a great winner of arguments— except in those cases where her husband’s affection for her gave her the edge. Which were often enough.

It was thus that the fuzzy things leaped from her line of thought and were replaced a less pleasant image: the face of Casper’s mother. “A card?” She asked, almost as she were choking on the word. “She—” Molly could feel her cheeks going red. Mention of his mother made her feel eighteen again— bashful and lost, a little ashamed. (And later, defiant.) She drew a breath, quiet, and let it out just as fast, her shoulders heaving down. She looked at Forrest. “We should… we should let her meet him if she wants,” she said small, in an of course sort of way. Fingers ran gently down baby-soft material. Her eyes moved back up to Casper. “Do you think she might? I mean, make amends.”

But then what if she hated him? Molly swallowed hard and looked at Forrest, whose tiny face already held traces of his father’s. It was impossible. This time, her sigh held an edge of laughter. “Maybe we should make a family reunion of it. She’ll love Frank."

His laugh was louder than expected, and he quickly shut up with wide eyes and glances down as he rocked Forrest a little. When the newborn felt like it, he could sleep through anything. And then there were the times where a creak of the floorboard would make him scream awake. “Obviously from their mum.” He reached out his free hand and poked his wife in the side, playfully, before resting his hand on her hip.

Casper loved how oblivious Molly could be. It made joking around even more fun, because once she got it... her reactions were priceless. “Of course they are.” Casper gave his son a wink, as if the sleepy kid could see it. Casper met Molly’s eyes with a faint blush to his cheeks, grinning. “And your mum is the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. You’re one lucky kid. All the other kids’ll be jealous.” Or they’d just want to hang out all the time at Forrest’s house. Molly had long been a Wilf.

“Why wouldn’t I want him to grow up in the same sort of environment we did? War and oppression! It’s what all the kids want these days.” His face showed how disgusted he was with the idea of being a cat. “I would absolutely use up my nine lives, then.”

Alena didn’t frighten Casper as much as she used to. His hand moved to hers, gently squeezing it. Perhaps he had popped the news with poor timing. His thumb gently rubbed over her knuckles. He frowned, just slightly. Casper knew his mum too well. She wouldn’t forgive him for muddling her family blood. Her lineage. Even if it wasn’t her life to live, she couldn’t see so far beyond her own prejudiced hatred for it to make sense.

Still... he hoped she would at least see her grandson and feel something for him. Some pull of those maternal strings. She had raised two children, after all, even if she wasn’t so pleased or proud of the first. “I think she wants to see her grandson.” He was careful with his words, both to not hurt his wife and to not lead her on. Casper couldn’t help the grimace, but shared a chuckle with her. “He would definitely make an impression.”

Forrest started to stir, arms flinging out as he woke himself up with a start, a cry cutting through the two of them. “Ah... I think he wants something only his mum can give him.” Casper stood and handed Forrest over, kissing Molly on the forehead. “Would you like some tea?”

“Then you better watch out. He might land the girl version of you.” There was a daring (but sweet) glint replacing the surprise in her greenish brown gaze, one that was obviously unaware of the conversation they were about to have concerning Casper’s mother. She gave a little jut of her hip against his hand. It was a nice fit, one that kept the semi-uncoordinated Molly Pratt Bagman from toppling herself on invisible obstacles. For a woman who could juggle spatulas, kittens, and a paint-dabbled wand, her balance day-to-day was a gamble.

If Forrest inherited his mother’s tongue, his language was likely to be plenty colorful, but also soft, a little jumbled, too excited at times. The sort of ‘cheeky' that was in over its head— different from but complimentary to Casper’s. Whose faster, more sarcastic humor Molly hoped her child adopted. The man might have been  around some people, but when it came out, it could melt Molly as easily as it could catch her.

His blush— and words— brought a wider smile. “They’ll only be jealous if he doesn’t share his sweets.” Of which there would be plenty. “But I suppose other parents might be mad if I’m feeding their children pies all day…” Molly hadn’t really thought beyond daydreams of kids in quidditch jerseys, crowding her bakery or living room, leaving trails of crumbs that would not impress her orderly husband. Which was why there would be enough to feed him, too. “Not too mad, though, right?” Who didn’t love sugar? "We’ll need to start making friends with strangers on the playground and buttering up to them. Maybe we should join some parent groups. There’s one that walks around the town every Sunday… I’ve seen all the dads with babies strapped to their chests.”

Because the picture of Capser being forced to join the Godric’s Hollow dad social event of the century was too brilliant.

His practicality stopped Molly from going into full gingerbread house mode.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t have happy moments you want to share with him!” Quidditch games, trips to Diagon Alley, cheers with butterbeer while stopping his father from making silly bets. Besides, they’d got through the tough stuff together. They could get Forrest through anything. “My childhood included plenty of cats, and I turned out…” She gestured in a sweep and smiled with guilty happiness. He liked her enough, he had to have.

“You can’t waste any of your lives without checking with your wife, though. That’s part of the contract.” Sometimes Molly marveled that he’d married her.

His mother certainly had.

Molly stared up at him, nodding slowly. That tentative feeling, the one that turned to disappointment, also had an undercurrent of relief. Things weren’t too far gone for Forrest, at least. And perhaps, with time… “I would like her to,” she said gently, a little more confident. “My mum has, and she loves him.” She suddenly had the ability to smile again.

It was all eyes on Forrest as he woke. Molly laughed, and took him carefully, supporting him as she looked around for a prime seat for lunch. And tea! “That would be brilliant. I must have had three cups already, but I hardly remember the last one…” The baby’s feeding schedule made caffeine and meals seem like a fairytale.