Disclaimer: This is JK Rowling's world. The Epilogue in Book 7 will be ignored.

Molly dragged her finger across the rough wood of her scuffed and hard worn dining room table. The beautiful finish of Arthur's wedding gift to her had been marred over the years, scraped and dented by dishes and school projects and horse play at the kitchen table. She used to love the way this table looked looked: not pristine and orderly, but chaotic and overflowing with kids and food and laughter. Today the table only accentuated how much she'd lost her family over the last year.

And how she missed them. She missed their sleepy faces at the breakfast table and even the messes they left behind. Oh, but she was being silly. They weren't gone gone. She clutched the table... at least not all of them.

That was why she was up so early this morning. Her body was a reliable of a clock as the one on her wall.

Today was the one year anniversary of George's death. The one year anniversary of the end of the Battle of Hogwarts.

And it had been a hard year. The initial mourning had given way to a tentative hope of returning to life as normal. It didn't take long for everyone to figure out that they weren't quite sure what normal was anymore. But there was a large affair to be held at Hogwarts this evening because the day demanded to be celebrated. Or memorialized. She hadn't quite figured out what the tone for the event would be. At least she would get to see her children tonight.

Molly took a sip of her coffee before setting it back down on the rough, raised grain of the table. She looked out the window at the sunrise and found herself wishing that the sun would change it's mind and head back down to the horizon, ending this day swiftly would be the kindest thing it could do. The brightness made her blink, so she didn't see as much as hear the owl tapping at the window glass.

Pushing herself up, she opened the window and let the bird fly in. He swooped down, gracefully dropped an envelope in Molly's abandoned chair, snagged a bite of toast, and headed back out of the window with a hoot goodbye. Curious, as the owl was not one which usually brought mail (poor Errol had been retired long ago and Pig had absconded with Ginny), Molly sat down with the letter. It was addressed to she and Arthur in a script that looked vaguely familiar and in an envelope that had yellowed with age.

Glad of something to do, Molly opened the envelope and read the letter:

January 24, 1981

Dear Molly and Arthur,

I don't know how to say this. I don't know how to say any of this. Or what to do about this. I don't know who is safe to share secrets with. The one person I'd like most to tell, I cannot. Or I haven't? And my family is gone. So I thought I'd tell those who I now think of as family even though you don't know it- or why.

I'm sorry this letter is so scattered. I'm sorry for everything. Ah, well maybe not everything.

Let me explain- Molly, I'm in love with your brother. I don't know if you know that or not. We've tried to keep it secret so that you-know-who and his followers could never hold it against us. That they could never use one of us against the other. We thought it safer that no one knew. But, I think you might suspect because I caught that look you gave us last Christmas last year.

Well, you will be the third and fourth people to know this secret. Fabian and I had a baby. She's beautiful and strong and happy. And she's safe, and it is worth everything in the world to me to keep her that way. Which is why I have told only Dumbledore and the woman who is currently raising her as her own. Not even Fabian knows, though I don't know how much longer I can keep that a secret.

That is where I've been these last five months. Dumbledore covered for me with the Order telling everyone I was on another of my secret missions, but the truth is that I've been in hiding.

Oh, I am all over the place. I don't know where to start. I guess I'll start with this letter. This letter is my last resort. I've left my baby and my diary with a muggle woman in the States named, Brigette Cache. I was named after Dorcas Wellbeloved, the founder of the Society for Distressed Witches. Did you know that? Anyway, Dumbledore found my mother's old friend from America through the Society, and smuggled me to her. For months I stayed with Brigette, soaking up life farther removed from you-know-who's immediate terror. When the baby came, Brigette helped me through the first month of her life, but I had to come back. I have a mission. And I have Fabian. Brigette will watch Sabina- my daughter- until I come back for her. Or Fabian, when I finally tell him. Hopefully, both of us will be back for her.

But in case we are not, in case the worst happens, I have written this letter. Through no small feat of ingenuity and genius (I can't help it, I'm really quite proud of this spell), I've charmed this letter to only be noticed as needing to be sent exactly one year after the death of you-know-who. Until then, the postmaster will walk by it and forget about it. It's a derivative of the same charms used on all of our wizarding edifices. Isn't it clever?! It's so nice to know that I've still got some surprises in this scattered brain of mine.

I've distracted myself again. I seem to go off topic anytime I even think about not coming back to my baby. My sweet Sabina. That is why I've thought of you. You and Arthur are two of the only people I've met who seem to keep a happy family home during these times. And you are family now.

Hopefully, this letter comes to you and you call me and we sigh, grateful that such a precaution was never needed. I'll dream of that. But if you do become the guardian of my sweet girl, please love her. Please welcome her into your home and family. Please tell her about me and Fabian. Please help her with her homework and boys and friends. Please play with her hair when she can't sleep. Please comfort her when she's sick. Please do everything I can't do for her. Please let her know I love her. No matter when or where I am, I love her.

I'm reporting in to Dumbledore tomorrow. Back to the fight for me. I won't rest until we are all safe.

I promise I''ll tell Fabian about his daughter.

Dorcas Meadowes

P.S. My girl's name is Sabina Lea Prewett. She was born on December 24, 1980. She has Fabian's hair and my nose.

The letter shook slightly in Molly's hand. She laid it down on the marred surface of her kitchen table and felt her mind race. Fabian had been a father! She had a niece! She had a niece who had no idea that she had a whole family back here.

Smiling to herself as she remembered Fabian and Dorcas, she knew that this secret was going to be a miracle. She was going to get to give someone a family. And somehow, that was going to bring her back her family. Little Sabina Prewett was going to bring the Weasleys laughter and hope and back to her table.

Molly got up from the table and began efficiently washing out her teacup. Feeling for the first time in a long time a depressive lethargy leave her body. She started making plans to tell the rest of the family and when to go get Sabina. They had all focused on healing long enough. It was time to reconstruct.

I've not written for anything other than work copy for a long time. This story is one I daydream about when I'm bored or stressed, and it seemed like a good idea to write it down. Hopefully, it's as enjoyable of a distraction for you as it is for me. To that end, comments and encouragements to continue are always appreciated.