A/N: this was written for the camp potter challenge, i hope you like it!

Molly waits for her husband to wake up. She knows there is no way in he'll that she could have stopped this but she wishes she had.

Curse Voldemort and that evil snake! He was so evil to good, innocent, people like her Arthur. No one deserved this but especially not him. He was a good man, a good father, a good husband.

Every time Molly told him she was expecting, he didn't jump away from her, or yell at her for not being careful like she anticipated. His face would always light up and he would hold her and whisper his dreams for his family. Not that they would be famous and wealthy, but that they would love and support each other.

When he would come home, weariness setting into his bones, and tiredness tucked into the lines on his face, he would never push his children away and take a much deserved break. He would embrace them, and entertain them and play with them like any man with all of the time and money in the world would.

In those moments she knew she married the right man. This was the man that she would spend forever and the afterlife with.

She couldn't imagine going on without him. So she took his hand in hers. Squeezed it as hard as her shaking hands would allow. And waited for her husband to wake up.


Molly waits to hear word from her son and wife.

She knew it was silly to worry about her oldest son so much. He was significantly older than Ron, who disappeared during the attack but today was Bill's wedding day. Those wretched Death Eaters! Hadn't they done enough to mess with him? They already scarred his face, but now they have to mar the memories of his wedding day?

Molly angrily wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to look out of her bedroom window. The tent outside was destroyed and lying in a torn mess on the ground.

She sighed. She loved planning this wedding. Although it was true that she hadn't been the most accepting of mothers towards Fleur in the start, she had grown to love the girl. They didn't always agree on the plans, but in the end it was spectacular.

And it was all for her boy. The day he was born was so special. Bill was her first child, so she didn't know what to expect, but after crying for an hour he calmed down and looked up at her curiously.

He was so easy going. He didn't fuss much, but when he did he was easily placated. She hoped that would help him overcome this war. She loved for all of her children stood up for what was right, but she was so glad he didn't inherit the Weasley temper along with the Weasley hair. It was well and good to fight, but you could only fight while living.

Molly tightened her fingers in the hem of her dress and looked out the window once more, waiting for an owl that brought relief.


Molly tapped her wand against her knee and waited for Charlie to walk through the door. She never got to see her son because he was always off with the precious dragons he obviously loves so much more than his family. But this was the time she needed him the most. When the world was in such chaos and with Voldemort was gaining so much power, family was all any one had nowadays.

It's Christmas for Merlin's sake! Who doesn't come home for Christmas? Even Harry had come. The Grangers had made Hermione come home, maybe she should have written to him and done the same.

Molly wished he had never let him run off to Romania. He never came home, and the rare occasion that he did, he looked like he couldn't take care of himself.

Molly absentmindedly turned down the temperature of the stove and peered out of the window, waiting for her dragon lover of a son to come home for Christmas.


Molly gulped the new wave of tears down and waited for her son to open the door.

She had been coming to his apartment for the last week and he still hasn't come out. No matter what arguments Percy wouldn't just leave his mother on the doorstep, would he?

She wasn't so sure. He was a stubborn boy. Quiet, but stubborn, calculating, and ambitious. Sometimes she was surprised he was sorted into Gryffindor.

Other times she wasn't. He wasn't always loud and outspoken, but when he needed to make himself heard he did. When his brothers did something wrong, no matter how much they bribed him, he would let Molly know. That's why the others picked on him so much.

But this time he was wrong. So wrong, and if only he would calm down long enough for gum to see that!

Buy Molly had been around Percy for most of his life for her to know that wasn't happening.

She pounded her fist against the door again, her heart breaking more and more each time she went unanswered. "Percy please, just open the door sweetheart! I don't want to yell or argue! I just want to know if you're okay."

She waited a beat for him to open the door or say something, say anything but when he didn't, the tears began to spill on to her cheeks. Why did he have to be so much like his father?

After sobbing on his doorstep, Molly Weasley collected herself. She couldn't keep doing this to herself she couldn't come here everyday.

"Percy this is the last time I'm coming here." She put her fingertips on the door and took a deep breath. "If you don't open the door, I'm not coming back."

She stared at the door, willing for it to open.

She waited for her son to come to her, though in the back of her mind, she was painfully aware that he wouldn't.


Molly stops, staring at her son, and waits for it to not be real.

She knows this is war, and people get hurt and they die, but hadn't the Weasley family been attacked enough? They've been attacked and poisoned for the last three years, why did her son have to die.

She felt an agonizing yelp come from her mouth and she pitched forward, grabbing onto Fred to wake up, to make a noise, to crack a joke, to get up and do something so she would know he wouldn't be gone.

They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes, and as Fred's dead body was clutched in her grip, she thought of the times she yelled for him to stop. Stop shouting, stop yelling, and stop laughing.

Now she curses herself for it. She wants to hear his laugh; she wants to hear a quick joke pass from those lips. She didn't want this corpse. His eyes were open wide but there was no life in it. His mouth was stretched into a wide grin, but there was no smirk mixed in as he thought to think of an even better joke.

She hears the wails and cries of her family around her and will's herself to pull it together. They needed her to be strong.

She couldn't though. Her family meant everything her and a part of it was lying cold and lifeless in her arms.

"Please. I need all of my children. He's too young. We need him." Her voice cracked in places but the words continued to spill out of her mouth. " Take me. He has a life ahead of him." Her body shook with sobs. "Please, please come back."

Molly rocked and sobbed and whispered and grieved, all the while waiting for someone to hear her prayers and bring her boy back.


Molly leaned against the counter and waited for George to come home.

It's been less than a month since the battle. Although Molly couldn't ask for him to forget about his other half, she so desperately wanted to know he was okay. She wanted him to laugh and smile and make jokes. No he didn't have to immediately bounce back to his former self, couldn't she wish for him to start?

She didn't know that losing one son would make her lose two.

She should have known. George losing his ear last year should have been some kind of indication that things wouldn't be the same between the two. She had tried to see the silver lining and joked that she would finally be able to tell them apart.

Now there was no need for that.

She didn't want her children to hurt like this anymore. They had lost so much in this war, she didn't want them to lose themselves.

She sighed and turned to look out the window. This war they fought was for everyone to prosper. No more hatred toward anyone. But for a better future her son was taken away.

And her other hadn't come back.

She shut her eyes tight, willing for the tears to go away and waiting for her son to come home. Not only physically but in spirit as well.


Molly took her son's and waited for Madame Pomfrey to tell her everything was going to be okay.

She knew Ron sometimes thought she didn't care about him. For some reason, he believed he was the least important Weasley to the world.

But in reality, she worried about him more than any of her other children. Why did he have to be best friends with Harry Potter. He was the boy who lived but he lived to bring trouble' no matter how normal a year could start out.

Even though this year had started as far from normal as it could get. Voldemort was on the rise and Hogwarts was one of the only safe places left.

Well, she had thought it was. How safe could it be if her baby boy was lying in a hospital bed, poisoned.

Dumbledore wouldn't say if the reason he was attacked was related to the Death Eaters. But what else could it have been? If Ron was having disagreements with other student it would have ended in a muggle altercation or a few thrown hexes while passing each other in the hallway. Not poison.

She squeezed his hand as he began to stir slightly. Once again she wondered why it was her son that decided to befriend Harry. She wouldn't have it any other way, but as long as Harry was around one of her children would get hurt. The boy was a danger magnet. But she couldn't be mad at Harry. There was no concrete proof this was connected to Harry, and if her son wanted to set off on another crazy scheme to save the world with is best friend, she couldn't stop him.

But for now, she would hold his hand, and wait for her baby boy to get better.


Molly rubbed her eyebrow and looked out the window waiting for an owl. She knew she shouldn't have let Ginny go to that school! With those crazy Carrows running things who knew if her daughter would come back looking the same, if she would come back at all.

Merlin knows her daughter was a Weasley through and through. She wouldn't look at the Carrows doing wrong, listen to them spew that brainless pureblood babble without saying anything. She wouldn't take any of that crap lying down. And though it was an admirable trait, it made Molly worry. Molly worried about her children a lot.

One was starting a family, one had another family he abandoned the original for, one refused to speak to his own flesh and blood, two were trying to bring light and laughter to a dark world, and she didn't even know where one was.

She worried about her little girl constantly this year. Yes she was tough and strong and a leader but that didn't she always had to be.

Ginny had written home in her fourth year about the detentions Umbridge put her through. Writing in their hands, it was inhuman, but Ginny wore here scars like a badge. She was proud to show people that she stood up for what was right and her mother loved her for it even more.

But these detentions are worse. And Molly didn't want to see Ginny with more, even deeper scars.

So she kept looking, waiting for a beacon that she should rest easy for the night, even though she knew she wouldn't.

A/N: PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT! i love reviews:)