the_debt_of_time

Mia snorted, recalling a future long-haired and pierced Bill Weasley. Even with how
much Mia knew Molly to hate Bill's hair in the future, she seemed unlikely to bend to this
tantrum. She even shrugged her shoulders, looking nonplussed, which Mia was unaware
Molly could do.
"Fine. I've always wanted a daughter, and you'll make such a pretty little girl," Molly
cooed at him. Bill recoiled in absolute horror, and the grin that settled on Molly's face was
so reminiscent of Ginny that it made Mia gasp.
"Now, the two of you behave yourselves while I order your father's Christmas gift,"
Molly insisted as she turned, pushing the pram ahead of her toward the counter.
Mia subtly leant around a nearby shelf, pretending to examine a tin of chocolates in
order to peek into the carriage where she spotted two sleeping identical babies.
"How come Dad gets sweets for Christmas?" Bill demanded, continuing to press
his luck.
"Because one sweet deserves another," Molly answered with a mild blush.
Mia grinned at the sight. Being friends with Arthur in this timeline and knowing the
love he had for his wife was adorable, and seeing her reciprocate that—to her children no
less—was nothing if not enlightening.
"If you behaved yourselves for once, you'd learn that good behaviour is rewarded.
Now stand right there and don't move," Molly ordered her sons.
Mia watched closely as Fred and George slept soundly in their pram. The quiet
toddler-version of Percy sat obediently on his mother's hip, thumb stuck firmly in his
mouth. Mia's gaze drifted down to the two older boys, who were whispering
conspiratorially to one another. Bill was clearly the ringleader, as Charlie just grinned and
eagerly nodded to everything his older brother suggested.
The sight was too surreal, and Mia was not certain if she could handle a face-to-face
meeting with Molly Weasley should she stick around, so she headed for the door.
Just as she made her way close to the exit, she felt a small tug on her robes and
turned to see the two little ginger boys with sad looks on their faces, playing the part of the
proper paupers that Draco had always accused the family of being.
"'Scuse me, ma'am," Bill said, batting his big eyes up at her. "Could you spare a few
Sickles for two starving orphans?"