A VERY short one-shot packed full of spoilers for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. PLEASE. I haaaaaate spoiling people, do not read this if you haven't finished the book and don't want to be spoiled for it.

The book hit me hard. Very hard. So many of my favourites are gone. I'm still dealing with it, in ways no book should ever make a person have to. This is my first post-DH fic, and it's every bit as hard to write as the book was to read. I woke up with the opening lines in my head and KNEW I had to come type immediately, before it was gone.

I know Molly Weasley is an amazingly strong woman. This is not necessarily anything that would really happen. But it's a common, though unfortunate, way to deal with grief and loss, and god knows the poor woman has faced enough of that.

For the last time. You've been warned.

One for her baby, her little boy. All bright eyes and red curls and freckles. She hadn't told him enough how proud she was. He'd always felt secondbest. It was her fault. She'd never have the chance to again.

One for his brother, his other half. There were so many pieces of him missing now. Physically and emotionally, he was so scarred. She'd watched life leave him, and now he walked around as a shell of himself.

One for the girl, the young woman, who she'd watched grow up. Vibrant hair, funny faces, a big sister to her only daughter. So young and so brave and so completely devoted and faithful.

One for the kind-hearted man who'd always watched out for her children so dilligantly. He'd faced plenty of hard times already. He'd be at peace, finally, in a place where the outside world couldn't hurt him.

One for their son, an orphan now. He slept in a crib nearby, under the watchful eye of her daughter-in-law, while his grandmother visited his parent's graves. Like so many before him, he'd never know them. He'd only know the fight they waged to keep him alive and safe.

One for her daughter, the little girl she'd saved. The fight had taken its toll on her. The vibrance and the fire that had once been her trademark were gone. Dark brown eyes seemed empty, almost soulless.

One for her husband. He hadn't slept since that night. Only fitful tossing and turning, the occasional outcry for his son, his friends, those who'd fallen in front of his eyes.

One for her youngest boy, who had fought for so long and so hard that a piece of him seemed to be gone. After working on one goal so valiantly for so long, he had nothing to work for or fight for.

One for his girlfriend, a girl she'd practically raised. Her parents had gone missing, and with their altered memories, finding them was proving to be nearly impossible. Never had she looked so alone.

One for The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, dealing with the burden of the world on his shoulders. A boy she'd grown to love as one of her own, who she hadn't been able to save from his emptiness.

One for the nameless victims. The children, the Order Members, the other species who'd made their final stand on that summer night. For the tiny little boy, for the handful of Centaurs, for the Minister of Magic.

One for the new Minister. A close friend, a smart one, now bearing the entire future of the Wizarding World.

One for herself. A killer now, no matter how much her target had deserved death. It was she who'd brought it about; it was she who'd caused the final breath to escape the black-haired witch's body. It was she who'd fired that fateful hex. The illegal hex. Self-defense, defense of her children, but a murderer just the same.

She set the glass down, her hand shaking violently. Just one more. That was all she needed. One more and she could sleep. One more and she could forget. Only for a moment. That was all she needed.