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"Now, their names, if you wouldn't mind," the doctor said, her quill resting atop a fresh, short roll of parchment as the required template for a birth certificate obligingly inked itself into the paper.

"Yes," replied a rather flushed Arthur Weasley, still visibly beaming. "Well, Molly and I have been talking, and, well, I say we've been talking, but really there wasn't much to talk about, we were always fairly agreed that we wated a big family, and, well, with the twins, it was just a matter of whether we use two of the names we were planning on at once or come up with two that fit better together, and in the end we..." At the sight of the doctor's long-suffering gaze, he cleared his throat and started over. "Yes. Well. Um. We decided that we'd call this one Frederick..." He picked up one of the babies from their dozing mother. Newly-named Fred grabbed his nose with unusual accuracy for a newborn. "And his brother will be George."

There was a long pause, before the doctor started writing, heaving a very noticeable sigh.

"Is something wrong?" Arthur asked, helpfully, as Fred's hand slipped onto his lower lip and rested there.

"No, no, it's certainly nothing," she said. "At the very least it's not my place to say."

"Something wrong with the boys' names?" Arthur continued, a little less helpfully.

The doctor fairly leaped at the bait. "Well, I know it's very fashionable now to give children odd names, whether they be Muggle names or foreign names or whatever, but I just think there's nothing wrong with a solid traditional name like Anguis, or Sacerdus, or Tabellarius. You know that they'll have to have these names all their lives, don't you? Can you imagine going to school with a name like George? He won't even know how to spell it. I'm not sure myself how to..."

"Oh, that's simple," Arthur said, his helpful tone now a trifle strained. "G E O..."

"See? You don't, either." The doctor tapped her quill on the birth certificate with the air of a general striking out the latest province she's taken. "It's G O R G E."

"Ah, now, see, that's quite fascinating, you've actually spelled the Muggle word 'gorge', which is much like 'chasm' or 'divide', and it's pronounced differently from..."

"Well, that's what everyone at school will call him, anyway. Gorge Weasley. Do you want that to be your son's life?"

"Now, listen," came a voice whose power put the doctor's running and crying back down into her throat. Molly Weasley rose from the bed with the inevitable crushing force of an avalanche. "My husband and I will name our children exactly what we wish to name our children, and if you won't fill in their birth certificates as we request, I suggest you find a doctor who will!"

The doctor sniffed, visibly backing down, though Arthur did hear a muttered "cultural appropriation" and "minstrelry" amidst the scribbles of the quill. She turned on her heel and strode away, with one last "I don't understand this generation" hidden with all the stealth of a full moon.

"I'm sorry, Arthur dear," Molly said, looking down at George, who had awakened at his mother's voice and was looking around as if everything in the world was new to him - which, of course, was the case. "I didn't mean to start a fight, especially not so soon after the boys were born." She didn't sound particularly sorry, and Arthur was sure he saw a somewhat triumphant expression hiding somewhere in her eyes. With her up so soon after giving birth, Arthur supposed she'd rather earned it.

"Oh, I think it's no problem, dear," Arthur responded, looking down at Fred, who'd dropped his hand onto Arthur's chest and was now staring at it slack-jawed. "Besides, they're not crying, are they?"

"Not at all," Molly agreed, lifting George up, which gathered a coo from the infant. "I'm sure they'll be no trouble at all."
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