Title: I Want No World, (For Beautiful You Are My World, My True.)

Summary: Once upon a time, Molly Prewitt was pureblood and perfect/ There are different kinds of perfection, my dear.

Pairings: Molly/Arthur, mentions of Ron/Hermione

So this is just a little something a thought up about Molly like her back story and whatnot, so… yeah.

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Molly Lucinda Prewitt is born on a stormy July morning, to a beautiful pureblood mother and a powerful pureblood father with two strong pureblood brothers. She came out screaming and wriggling and fighting from the second she took her first breath.

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She learns her lessons early on; her parents fight late into the night and in the morning they smile and play nice because for people like the Prewitts, (just like the Malfoy's and the Goyle's and the Zambezi's,) this is how it's supposed to be. You simply suppress everything until it explodes at its most raw. If you hurt, cry; if you rage, strike out. If you hope, better get ready for disappointment.

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Her mother mostly ignores Molly and her brothers; spends her days staring at herself in the mirror, reclaiming beauty long lost along with her youth. Molly makes a list; of all the mistakes she won't make when she is a mother. She commits them to memory.

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She trains hard at quidditch, riding until the moon sits high in the sky and the skin peels from her fingers. In second year when she makes she makes the Gryffindor team her mother comes to watch every game and her father sends and owl with a note saying, That's my girl, which is as close to an I-love-you as they're ever going to get. Her brother Fabian comes to see her after one of her games when she's bandaging her bleeding hands. "It's not worth it Molly," he tells her, "I did everything right tonight," she says, "don't ruin it."

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After Hogwarts her parents want her to marry a nice, rich, powerful pureblood boy. Because she's a nice little pureblood girl, and isn't that what they do? Instead, she joins the Order of the Phoenix and marries Arthur Weasley. In the fallout, her father does not stand by her. He lets her go. She thinks of that's my girl and how he used to call her Molly-pie.

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Once upon a time, she wanted to help people. Once she wanted to travel and see the world. All that changed when she'd first gotten pregnant. It would have been so easy to resent this tiny, living thing inside her; pretend she did not care.

And yet,

At eight months, two weeks and four days she finds herself spending three hours casting cleaning spells on a muggle born neighbors' house that had been all but destroyed by death eaters, because it was easier to fix what was wrong than picture her own child arriving into a world that she herself sometimes could not stomach. As she finished she could hear her father's voice in the back of her mind, Bleeding heart he'd call her. Well, he should know; he'd been the first to rip it to shreds.

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My love is building a building around you,

A frail slippery house, a strong fragile house

(Beginning at the singular beginning of your smile)

[Sacrificing your happiness for the one you love is by far, the truest type of love]

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Years later, as her very much grown up first born son lay bleeding and broken, savaged by a Werewolf, Molly had gone outside in the dark and prayed to a father long dead to save a grandson he had never met. Or, failing that, give her more time. She remembered how, when Bill was tiny, how the only way to get him to sleep was by laying out on her back in the backyard with him on her chest. One night, Molly had seen the dark storm clouds approaching, just a few more minutes, she'd silently begged. Maybe this was the job of a mother: to buy time for her child, no matter what. Even if it meant doing something she'd rather not; even if it left her flat on her back.

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Somewhere I have never traveled, gladly beyond

Any experience, your eyes have their silence.

[Home only matters once we're there]

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When her second eldest son had told her, straight out of school, that he was going away had study dragons, she'd refused. It was only after realizing that loving someone meant setting them free and trusting that they'll come back to you, that she'd relented. Right before he'd left she'd opened her arms so that Charlie could move into them. Unlike Bill, who was already taller than his father, Charlie still fitted into her embrace. Even that square span between his shoulder blades, so expansive beneath the cotton shirt, seemed more delicate underneath her hands. Unfinished and ready, he was a man still waiting to happen. If only you could keep them this way: cast in amber; never growing up.

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My life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving

[You're always you when I see you through my eyes]

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She'd always known Percy was different, that he never quite fit into the same mould as his brothers. He'd been more ambitious, more studious; she'd encouraged that. She had tried to instill those values in him. She'd wanted for just this once to have a child she would get owls about with congratulations rather than another detention notice. When he went to Hogwarts she'd sent him owls, "do your homework, be polite to the teachers, aim big." When he was a little boy she used to tuck him into bed and tell him one day he'd be a man of power. She realizes now, that she never taught him loyalty; she never thought she needed to. She had assumed that having six siblings automatically gave you an inane sense of allegiance. She'd never stopped to think that maybe being so tied down made you more likely to want to cut the strings altogether; leave your family and their beliefs behind and never look back. She should have known; after all, it was exactly what she herself had done. When he left them, she'd gone out to London sometimes, and watched him as he left his work or ate his lunch on the steps. She'd stared the way you might stare at a butterfly you'd known as a caterpillar, wondering how the hell the change could be so dramatic.

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Being to timelessness as it's to time,

Love did no more begin than love will end

[How can I move on if you don't?]

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When her forth oldest, (or forth youngest depending on how you look at it,) loses an ear she sits with him for an entire night telling him about elephants. It seemed strange but in a way they reminded her of George. Strong and always remembering everything they observed; smarter than their appearances lead you to believe. They could be left or right handed and could always find their way home. Here's what she hadn't told her son though: that elephants know when they're close to dying, and would travel to a river bed to allow nature to take its course. That they bury their dead and grieve which Molly was oh-so-scared that she would have to do herself. More importantly, she'd never tell George how muggle scientists had observed a mother elephant carry a dead calf for miles, cradled in her trunk, unwilling and unable to let go.

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For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

It's always ourselves we find in the sea

[Don't you forget me now, wherever it is you go]

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Molly vaguely remembered just after the funeral for her fifth son, (fifth by only three minutes,) being told about how someone-Eskimos, maybe?-believed stars were holes in the sky where people who'd died could peek through at you. It was supposed to be comforting but Molly found it slightly creepy, as if she had to feel like she was being spied on all the time. It also made her think of a joke about a man who walked past Azkaban, who hears the prisoners chanting ten! Ten! Ten! And goes to look through the hole in the wall to see what's going on, only to be poked in the eye with a wand and hear the prisoners chanting eleven! Eleven! Eleven!

Fred had told her that joke.

Maybe she'd even laughed.

Here's what the Eskimos don't tell you: that those people on the other side, they have to go out of their way to watch you. But you can see them any old time; all you have to do is close your eyes. If you gave someone part of your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?

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This is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)

[You transform the world with your soul]

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Once, when her youngest son had been a baby, Molly had let him out of her sight long enough for Ron to climb up onto a stool. Molly had watched in horror as Ron's slight weight upset the balance of the stool. She couldn't get there fast enough to catch Ron; she didn't want to yell out, because she was afraid that if she startled Ron, which would make him fall to. So Molly has stood, waiting for an accident to happen. But instead, Ron managed to perch himself up on the stool; to stand up on its little disk seat; to reach the light switch he'd been heading to all along. Molly watched him flick the lights on and off, watched his face split with a smile every time he realized that his actions could transform the world. Years later, when her son really did transform the world she thought back on that moment and smiled over at her baby boy, tall and broken with his arms around the girl Molly had always known he'd fall in love with, and she thinks ILoveYou ILoveYou ILoveYou.

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Let the roses come and go

For kindness and goodness do

Not make a fellow tall

[A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge]

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When Molly's youngest child, her baby girl had been about ten and had been the only Weasley child still at home she had witnessed her mother's breakdown and Molly sent all but one of her children away. Molly had stood in the middle of Platform 9 ¾ and sobbed for what seemed like hours until she felt a tiny hand on her hip. She looked down to see her tiny little girl standing there innocent and filled with wonder, illuminated by the smoky light from the train. Her baby girl tells her it will all be okay again sooner or later.

"People are like birds mom. They fly away, but they normally come back to you in the end." Molly looks down at her little girl, amazed by the practiced knowledge of one so young.

I made you, she thinks looking after the train as it heads off, I made all of you.

Molly Weasley never got to travel the world, but her children would one day change it. It's enough.

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Many years later, when Molly Weasley is an old woman; her parents gone and her brothers having followed suit, her family grown and expanded and all over the world, Molly looks back on life. On the moments that seemed small but now she defines herself by them. She is strong; she has lost a lot after all, parents and acceptance and friends and brothers and her son. At times Molly has to ask herself if it were really all worth it, this new world they live in now. But she knows that centuries from now, when she is dead and her children and their children after that, no one shall remember her name. One day there will be no thought to ancient wars and lives lost and mothers that sent their children off to battle. But the world will be the way it is because of these people: her husband and sons and daughter and Harry and Hermione and The Order, these people are her family and even now she would still fight another war for them. She's in her last year of life, (because she's old now she's aware of this and she knows the end is near and she's ready,) and she is still fighting. Fighting anyone who dares mess with the people she loves, fighting her children for them to be better; be the best she can be. She has been fighting for and with these people from the moment she met each one of them.

But that was the way with Molly; she loved them all so much nothing was ever good enough.

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