(A/N: Written for the Prequel Celebration, but unlike J.K, I couldn't finish it in just 800 words. Mine is a look at Molly Weasley's life just before Harry's appearance on the Dursley's doorstep. Thanks to MrsTater for being an amazing beta.)
Sacrifices
Molly sat quietly in her chair as her family filled the Burrow with loud and enthusiastic chatter, her own lips pursed as she concentrated on her hands, busy with knitting needles.
"Septimus," Arthur suggested. "He would be the seventh child, it seems appropriate."
"Come now, Arthur," Molly's mother said, "Septimus is a lovely name, but I believe one Septimus Weasley is enough for this world." Molly was glad her mother had said it. "I still say Artemius -- Artemius Weasley -- It has a rather nice ring to it."
Molly rolled her eyes. Her mother was as relentless as Arthur.
"Artemius is a nice name," Arthur said, "but Molly and I have decided that it just doesn't fit with the other children's names."
"He has a point, dear," her father said to his wife. "Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Artemius. It is a bit out of place."
"You wouldn't have to call him Artemius," Mrs. Prewett replied. "My great uncle Artemius was called Artie. If you don't like that, you could just call him Art."
Everyone looked at her.
"Or not." She shrugged.
"You know what name we suggest every time, Mol," Gideon said.
"Fabian Gideon," said Fabian.
"Gideon Fabian," Gideon corrected.
"Six boys," Fabian said, shaking his head, "and not a Fabian or a Gideon."
"No," Molly said, eyes still on her knitting as she resisted the urge to laugh, "but you've got a George and Fred. That's my homage to the two of you." She looked up and smiled. "That's all you get."
"What makes you so sure," Mr. Prewett asked, "that it will be a boy? Seventh time could be a charm."
"We'd love a daughter," Arthur said, "but there hasn't been a girl born to the Weasley clan in generations. Years of family and six attempts of our own suggest that in a matter of weeks we'll be welcoming our seventh son."
"All the same," Fabian said, "you should at least think of a girl's name. You never know."
"How about..." Gideon paused for a moment, his brow wrinkled in thought. "How about Ginevra?"
"Ginevra," Fabian said. "Why, that's a beautiful name. We could call her Ginny."
"I suppose," Molly said, still knitting, "in the unlikely event that we have a girl."
***
"Arthur?" Molly said in called as her husband appeared in the fireplace. "What's the matter? You only just left." She waddled around the living room struggling to pick up toys the boys had left out the night before. "What have you forgotten this time?" she questioned. "Your lunch pail was on the table where you could see it." She looked towards the kitchen and saw that there was no lunch pail. "Not that." She hummed. "What else is there?"
"Molly--" he started.
"I know you had your briefcase when you left. I saw you pick it up. You're wearing your glasses, so it's not that."
"Molly--"
"Surely you couldn't have forgotten your wand. What could it…?" Noticing that his face was pale and his brow was creased, she stopped. "What is it? What's happened?"
"Molly." He swallowed hard. "Perhaps you should sit down."
"What is it Arthur? Tell me!"
"Alastor Moody sought me out at work this morning. It seems that last night..." He paused. "There was a battle." He stopped again, and seemed to be searching for words. "There were deaths."
She gasped, sinking into a chair. "Who?" she asked, afraid to hear.
Arthur took a deep breath as Molly waited in agony, expecting the worst.
"About a week ago, my office was investigating a string of Muggle attacks. We suspected Muggle baiting, but we couldn't tie it to anyone. I was keeping the Order informed. I wanted to see if they could find something I'd missed. They found a connection to a shop in Epsom selling bewitched Muggle goods. Moody said they watched it all week and finally found proof of a mass baiting plot. The Order organized a raid. Gideon, Fabian, and Benjy Fenwick were with Moody. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters were tipped off."
"Oh, no," Molly said dreading where this story was going.
"The fight was going well. The Death Eaters retreated into the street. Once there, however, they abandoned the fight and began setting fire to the surrounding buildings. Most of them were empty shops, but one was a house."
"No!"
"The Order members ran in looking for the family that lived there. Moody and Benjy got to the parents first. They said that there were two children in the house, so your brothers went looking for them."
Molly's hands covered her mouth.
"They'd just got the children out when they were ambushed." His voice was labored, but he knew she needed to hear it. "There were about nine of them. Moody says they must have called for reinforcements."
She sat in shock, unable to speak.
"A few of the Order ushered the family to safety while the others fought on. Fenwick and Moody took on four of them, Gideon and Fabian took the rest. They fought bravely, gave the others time to escape with the family. When Moody's four fled he turned to see the remaining five closing in on the twins. He hurried to join the fray, but it was too late." His voice was hoarse with unshed tears. "I'm sorry Molly. I'm so sorry."
Molly could no longer hold back her cries. She wanted him to take it back. She wanted him to make it untrue. She prayed that this were some nightmare. She'd had many in the past few months and she'd always woken up to find her family alive and safe. Please, she begged silently, let her wake up. Tears rushed forth like a flood, consuming her. Her sobs were heavy and violent. Her words, if they were words, were incoherent. With great effort, Arthur helped her upstairs, where she collapsed onto the bed.
***
Molly spoke very little in the days before the funeral. She went wordlessly through the motions of her day. Her maternal instincts made certain she continued feeding and caring for the children, but things beyond necessity were overlooked. The blanket she'd been knitting for the baby lay unfinished in her chair. Shirts and socks she'd been meaning to mend still bore their holes. Bill's first year supply list lay beneath a pouch of coins on the table, waiting to be purchased.
She watched with pride and guilt as Bill did his best to help. He played with his younger brothers in the garden as often as he could each day. She supposed he thought that if they weren't inside there would be less of a mess for his mother to tidy up. Even so, she cleaned. It was all she could bring herself to do. She tried to play with her children, but seeing their boyish grins brought memories of her brothers flooding back and she just couldn't take it. As much as it pained her, she avoided her children and focused on cleaning. Moving from room to room, she silently attacked a mess that only she could see.
At night, when the children were sleeping, she cried. Arthur gave up on offering words of comfort and simply held her until she succumbed to exhaustion.
***
At the funeral Molly received guest with her parents. She bore a brave face holding young Ron as the other boys stood quietly by their mother. Bill silently scolded the smaller ones as the temptation to run and cause mischief tugged at their young minds -- especially the twins'.
"Bill, darling," Molly called hoarsely to him after the crowd of guest had left the family to mourn.
"Yes, mum?" he answered quickly, happy to simply be addressed.
"Mummy needs a moment alone. Would you look after your brothers for a while?" She sniffled, eyes fixed on the twin caskets before her. "I'll bet your grandfather has got a pocket full of sweets. Why don't you go and find him?"
"Alright," he said softly, taking Ron from his mother. "C'mon, you lot, let's go see if Grandpa's got sweets."
She watched with that familiar pang of guilt as her brave little Bill took charge of his brothers and ushered them through the remaining guest. When the boys had gone and she was alone, Molly wept aloud. Standing between her brothers' caskets, she shook her head.
"It's not supposed to be like this," she said to no one. "You're not supposed to be dead." She looked from one casket to the other as if she expected them to fight back. "You're my big brothers," she cried. "You're supposed to be here to see your nephews grow up. You're supposed to teach them about Quidditch and girls. You're supposed to be here to give them advice when they won't come to us. How am I supposed to tell them about the sort of men they should be if I don't have you for examples?" She was sobbing. "How could you be so reckless? What am I going to do without you? Why?" she pleaded. "Why did you have to die?"
"Shhhh," came her mother's soothing voice from behind her; familiar arms wrapped around her. "It's alright, love, Mummy's here."
"Why?" Molly continued to cry. "Why did they have to die?"
"I'm afraid I don't have that answer." She frowned. "No one knows the reasons these things happen, they just do."
"How do you do it?" she asked, struggling to breathe through her weeping. "How do you have enough strength to get up in the morning, let alone help me?"
"I just have to remind myself of everything I still have to live for. I think of my beautiful grandchildren and remember that they still need me. Gideon and Fabian were my boys, and I loved them more than words can express, but they knew the risk when they got involved with the Order of the Phoenix. We should be proud of their sacrifice. They died so that your children could live freely. Weep for them as much as you need to, but you will eventually have to go on. You have your children, and they need you." She pushed a strand of hair back away from her daughter's face. "You just have to go on. Play with your children and take joy in the world your brothers fought to save."
***
In the sitting room of the Burrow, Molly's father studied the chess board, bouncing Ron on his knee.
Ron grunted, reaching for the knight.
"You think so?" his grandfather chuckled. "Lets see. Yes, yes, I think that will work. Knight to C3."
The tiny horseman moved into position and speared Bill's king.
"Checkmate!"
Bill groaned. "No fair, Ron helped."
Mr. Prewett smiled. "He'll be beating you on his own before you know it."
There was a clamor of footsteps and hurried voices from upstairs.
"Do you think it's time?" Bill asked.
"Don't know," Mr. Prewett said, resetting the board, "but they'll let us know when it happens."
"What are they going to name the new baby?" Charlie asked bouncing in he seat.
"I don't know. Your mum and dad haven't said yet."
"Yeah," Bill said, "We don't even know if it's a brother or a sister yet."
"I hope it's a sister," Charlie said. "Uncle Gideon said it should be a sister. He and Uncle Fabian said that having a sister was the best."
Mr. Prewett's eyes shone with unshed tears.
"Your uncles loved your mum very much and I'm sure you would love having a sister, too."
The room fell silent as the upstairs door creaked and the sound of footsteps drew near the top of the stiars.
"Boys!" Arthur called from upstairs. "Boys come quickly, the baby's here!"
Like a stampede, the five Weasley boys tumbled up the stairs, Mr. Prewett carrying little Ron. Reaching the doorway they pushed and shoved fighting for the first peek at the new baby.
"I wanna see," Percy said.
"Us first," Fred said.
George added, "Fwed and George see baby first."
Finally Arthur calmed the children and positioned them around the bed so each of them could see.
"Pwetty baby," George said.
"Yes," Arthur said, "she's a very pretty baby."
"She?" Bill questioned. "You mean it's a…?"
Molly nodded, her exhausted face glowing with happiness. "A girl."
"A sister!" Bill said. "You hear that? We have a little sister!"
The boys cheered, even little Ron, in his grandfather's arms.
Molly looked at her boys with a renewed sense of joy. As the boys looked at their sister she saw the same look she remembered from her brothers. This instant love and protection warmed her like nothing had since her brothers' had been killed. She smiled knowing that, though she still felt pain and sadness, her children were still here and they would see her through it.
"What's her name, Mum?" Bill asked.
Molly's mother smiled sadly as her daughter cried tears of joy and sorrow.
"Ginevra," Molly said. "Her name is Ginevra."
(There isn't a lot known about the death of Gideon and Fabian so I added my spin. I did find that they were killed in the last half of 1981 and Ginny was born in August of '81.)