The owl had come early that Wednesday morning, before the tips of dawn had stretched over to illuminate Godric's Hollow. Harry had been up already, he was down in the den reviewing James's school list for that year. September 1st was very near and Harry wanted to be sure everything was perfect and that his son had everything he needed for his first year at Hogwarts.

A rather handsome and familiar, but old looking screech owl came soaring through the chimney and out the fireplace. Hermes landed gracefully beside Harry on the couch; a smudge of soot on his pale beak. Harry smiled tiredly at the owl.

"Hello Hermes," Harry said weary and he offered the owl a small square of cheese, but the owl didn't take it. Hermes eyes were big and sad as he gave Harry his leg in a small gesture.

"What have you got for me?" Harry asked softly, and he untied the string holding the letter. Carefully Harry unfolded the maroon wax seal that was stamped on the front. Percy had always liked to make his letters look official, Harry thought as he rubbed a finger across the smooth parchment. For a second, Harry thought he saw what looked like dried tear stains on the parchment, but he disregarded them and opened the letter.

The letter itself had about two paragraphs of writing but Harry only paid attention to and read the first line. Mum passed away in her sleep last night; we found her in her bed early this morning. And with that Harry's world spiraled out of control. That couldn't be right, no, it was impossible. Harry read the letter over again, more slowly this time. He got the same result. Maybe Percy was talking about someone else, he couldn't be talking about his own mother, Harry's mother. No, not a chance, there was just no way that Molly Weasley, the den mother to the Weasley and the Potter family could have died.

Harry stared off in the distant for a long period of time, remembering all the times Molly Weasley had acted in the place of his mother. All the times she had warmly opened her arms and welcomed him into her home, the time she had hugged him close and warm in the hospital wing after he had fallen out of the maze carrying Cedric's body. The time she had argued Sirius to the ground about him not being old enough to hear, Harry had appreciated that she had treated him like a second son. All those warm and hard times swirled around in his head and before Harry realized it hot tears were streaming down his cheeks and falling fast into his lap. Harry was so absorbed in his tears he didn't hear the creek of the stairs. He only knew Ginny was there when he smelt her flowery scent and a warm feminine hand clasped his shoulder.

"Harry?" came a soft voice from behind. Harry looked up at his wife from the couch; not even bothering to wipe away the tear stains. Ginny's bright brown eyes found his, and she searched endlessly in the greenish glow for the source of his pain. Harry got to his feet, his eyes never leaving Ginny's, the letter still clutched in his hand.

"Harry?" Ginny repeated unsure this time, her eyes filled with urgent concern for him. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, Ginny," Harry almost whispered, his shoulders began to shake with sobs, and his arms enclosed around his wife. The life-changing letter almost crumpled in his hand.

That night

The entire Weasley clan and then some had been notified before the sun had reached the horizon and that night they gathered together to mourn their loss. Ginny had gone ahead of them hours ago to be with her brothers, and comfort her father. Mr. Weasley had been in the care of St. Mungo's for nearly six years now. He had lost his leg years ago but since the Weasleys were unable to pay for his health care and since Mr. Weasley was getting old, the Hospital took care of him. Mrs. Weasley had lived in the Weasley household alone for the rest of her life. She spent her time wisely, cleaning, sending care packages, and visiting Mr. Weasley. Harry had never known her to be incapable of doing anything herself, she did get around without much help and even if it meant inconveniencing herself she would always try to look after everyone. As Harry spun past fireplaces, with his three children clutching his robes, the sweet old woman that sacrificed herself constantly occupied his thoughts.

Harry wondered vaguely how much she must have sacrificed to raise seven rowdy children; how many dreams had to have been flushed down the toilet, and a baby monitor put in its place.

The fireplace floor was placed under them as they came to the Weasley home. What greeted Harry and his children was a scene of mourning. Sitting in a chair was a very pregnant Fleur looking like she was about to burst from her tears; her eldest daughter, Victoire had her lovely strawberry blonde head laid on her mothers thigh. A few stray tears trickled every couple seconds. At the table with Fleur was Bill, a plate of food set in front of him. He looked down uninterested at the plate of cold food; clearly missing his mother's cooking. When he looked up, his face was graver than a headstone as he stared on toward nothing, in the direction of Ron and Hermione. Ron looked almost inconsolable. His eyes were puffy red and his skin looked pale and gaunt. He almost looked sick. Hermione was trying feverishly to ease her husband's pain but she seemed very near to collapsing herself. She was using a tissue box that was also being shared by Charlie who seemed at a loss to himself and everyone around him while Penelope tried to speak comfort into him. He appeared unaware of her words as he gazed off into the abyss of Percy and the children.

Percy had become the childbearing person. Every child of the Weasley clan was crowded around him; Harry's own children had joined the rest. Percy's four children were sitting on the floor at his feet, looking upset. Teddy Lupin was standing and hovering at Percy's shoulder, he looked upset but every couple seconds his eyes would wonder toward Victoire, who was now rubbing her mother's back. Hugo, Ron and Hermione's youngest was curled up in a little ball on Percy's lap, along with Miles, Charlie's little boy who was a slightly smaller than Hugo. Rose was looking over toward the window in the distance where Ginny stood staring out at the night sky. Percy looked slightly overwhelmed by all the children.

"Now, now," he kept saying and would pet all the children on the top of their heads. "Grandma Molly would want us to be strong."

But Percy didn't seem to be following his own advice as a clear teardrop dripped off his pointed nose, around the edge of his horn rimmed glasses. George Weasley was nowhere to be seen among the other mourners, but Harry heard the whispers of his wife in the kitchen.

Ginny was standing with her hands on the windowsill, she was staring out in the night. Harry quietly came behind her and wrapped his arms around her, his cheek pressed against hers as he did so, and Harry could smell the salt in her wet tears. Ginny turned her pale face and looked with distressed eyes at her husband, searching for some type of security in his eyes. Sadly Harry could not offer any for he to was mourning.

A couple moments later Harry heard the light tapping of someone's silver wear against a glass to get everyone's attention. Harry turned to see it was a tired and grave looking Kingsley Shacklebolt. His arm raised high over his head, a delicate looking glass in his hand filled with purple liquid as if he was about to make a toast, reminding Harry vaguely of his wedding day.

Harry turned out to be right. Kingsley withdrew his wand and with a soft whoosh everyone suddenly had a class full of purple whirling liquid.

"To Molly," he announced. The group nodded with him and raised their glasses in turn.

"Ta Molly," repeated a white bearded Hagrid.

"To Mum," said Ron almost collapsing in his tears as he said it.

"To Mum," Harry followed, and soon everyone did the same and drank to the woman who had provided more for them than most did in a lifetime. The evening of mourning commenced for more than another two hours. But Kinsley interrupted that time once more.

Kingsley set his wine glass and looked around at the family. He gave everyone a piercing look that told everyone the children present needed to leave. Teddy and Victoire remained where they were. Hermione gave them both stern looks.

"Out you two," she demanded but Teddy stayed throwing his aunt a meaningful look, Victoire stood a little behind him, her hand resting softly on his shoulder.

"I think we're old enough to hear, what's going on," He said it in a way that reminded Harry of himself. Victoire nodded swiftly.

Hermione looked as if she was about to protest but Kingsley waved her off, and Hermione pursed her lips that would make the late Mrs. Weasley proud.

When the last child was off in the other room all the men stood.

"What is it?" asked Percy, looking as if he couldn't take anything else. Kingsley waved his wand, and two pieces of parchment appeared in front of him.

"Not to worry Percy, nothing particularly heavy," He took another sip of his wine, and cleared his throat. Everyone already appeared to know what the parchments were. In the inky handwriting of the late Molly Weasley, at the top of it read;

Will of Molly Elizabeth Weasley (Prewett)

Percy stared at both the papers for longer than anyone else.

"Mums gone, but Dads not. Why do we have his will—?"

"He's incapable of being here, and isn't sane enough to understand what's going on, so its Ministry policy, we have to treat it like Arthur is gone." Kingsley finished his sentence with a grave expression. And nobody spoke as he carefully unrolled Molly Weasley's will. Her soft calming voice began to fill the room, as the letter read itself aloud.

"My precious children," it began, and Harry wasn't sure if he could handle this. But the voice continued.

"If you are reading this then you are aware that I am no longer with you. And I know, better than anyone the pain you feel, but I ask you not to be sad for I am happier now. Of course, that line you will hear more often than most when your struggling through this hard time without me but instead of believing the people that say it, believe me. I am happy here. I'm here with my mother, my uncle, my brothers, your brother, and so many others. You all would be so amazed. I am so proud of each and everyone one of my children. I have watched you all grow into mature young ladies and gentlemen and that makes me so proud. I've seen the tasks that you've been through, and the snakes you've fought along the way. Seeing all the beautiful grandchildren you all have made me just brings tears to my eyes. You raise them in the way that I have raised you. Knowing all my children are braver than most men has me at peace, knowing I've done my duty well. Keep your dreams at heart.

I love you

From mummy to her babies

Everyone was virtually in tears by the end of the first paragraph; there were still individuals toward each of her children and grandchildren. But Kingsley skipped over that, and got to the part of inheritance.

Fleur and Bill were to have the house.

Charlie and Jolene had the garden.

Percy and Penelope got the barn and the animals.

George and Angelina had all of Molly's art she used to do.

Ron and Hermione had all of Arthur's inventions

And Harry and Ginny had Molly's Villa, which was on the other side of the valley.

Harry had never known that the Weasley's had there own private house but Ginny corrected him and told him it belonged to Mrs. Weasley. It was the only inheritance she had managed to receive after she married Mr. Weasley. It was where all her private belongings from previous years where kept. Before Ginny went off to Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley would take her there and they would spend the night. It was almost like a mini vacation, because they could never afford a real one. But it fell out of use after Ginny went to Hogwarts. Ginny never knew why, she had always liked The Villa but Mrs. Weasley shrugged it off saying it had 'To many memories'. Mr. Weasley once wanted to use it to house all of his inventions or as part of one but Mrs. Weasley never once let him set foot in it or on it. Why? No one was really sure.

"Well," Kingsley said as he rolled the parchment. "Everything that was yours, before you moved out I suggest you take. For the now owners of this house, have to take everything out."

Everyone stared.

"Unless you would like to leave it as it is, and plan on returning here periodically."

The thought of having to clear out all the belongings, trinkets, inventions, artwork, and memories appeared too much for everyone.

"No," said Bill who stood on his feet, his werewolf scars shinning in the fading candlelight. "Not tonight at least."

"Not ever!" yelled Teddy, he was on his feet as well, and his then normal brown hair he had chosen that day was quickly turning bright fire engine red. Harry looked at his eldest son, who gave him a pleading look of desperation. "We can't just get rid of all this stuff, they all have so many memories."

But that was just it. Too many memories. It would be too hard to just come in and out with expecting to hear Mrs. Weasley's drawing voice, or smelling some sweet dessert she had made. There was just to many memories of inside jokes, hardship, love, mourning, and trouble. But Harry was with Teddy.

"Well whatever we decide, it will have to wait until tomorrow, its late, we should all be getting on home." Bill said as he rubbed his hair, he looked tired. No one protested to this, and within an hour everyone was up and off, the Potters were the last to leave the Burrow. The hardest thing for Harry was to close the door and lock it. There were no goodbyes, as they left, no happy chatter by the fire. The fire was out and the light in the old house was extinguished. The only thing that waved them off was the howl of the wind against the gray windows. Harry closed the door with a snap, and began walking with his family toward a nearby meadow to disapperate.

Ginny was awfully quiet as she walked along side her husband. James was on her left. His curly raven hair was blowing about in the wind, and his pale skin shined in the darkness. His face was expressionless as he walked with his family, but his caramel eyes showed his sorrow. Albus was holding Harry's hand. And when Harry looked down at his youngest son, he was looking back at the Burrow as it grew farther, and farther away, an expression of sadness on his face. Seconds later Albus turned away, the small sniffle went unheard by the roaring wind. Harry petted Albus's maroon head for reassurance. Albus met his father's gaze. Harry stared down into the face so much like his own, with the eyes just as green and bright as his.

Teddy was the farthest ahead of the group. He carried a frail Lily in his arms, who had managed to cry herself to sleep. Harry rested his hand on Teddy's shoulder, but his eldest son quickly pulled away. Judging by his fading red hair (which was now a dark pink) Teddy was angry that his father didn't back him up.

The disapperating point was close by. But before he got there Harry had a thought.

"So this Villa Mum owned, have you seen it?" Harry asked Ginny.

Ginny looked up. "Yeah, of course, not recently though, I haven't been there since I was about ten years old."

Harry gave his wife a stirring look and she frowned back at him. Ignoring the look she stocked over to the disapperating point on the hill, where her children already were and turned on the spot toward him.

"Will you ever grow out of that 'I-just-have-to-peak' sense, that you've had since Hogwarts?" Ginny asked irritably.

"Honestly, I don't believe so," Harry said, a playful smile was hiding in the corner of his mouth.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Harry Potter," snapped Ginny.

"But satisfaction brought it back Ginny Potter," Harry said coolly, and grinned at her.

Ginny didn't smile back instead she looked truly annoyed. "There's nothing there you might find remotely interesting or mysterious, I promise you. It just a bunch of her art and millions of quilts, that's all."

Harry stared. "Well, don't you think if that house is to be ours we should at least check it out? You yourself said you hadn't been there in ages. It would be good if I checked for a ghoul or two in the attic, or a boggart in a closet, don't you think? Especially since it hasn't been checked since the last rise of Voldemort, we have no idea what or who could be occupying it now."

Ginny sighed. She looked frustrated but it was clear she knew there was no winning this battle. "The house is twenty-five miles east of here. It's protected by a Disillusionment charm, and a Confundus charm. The spell that unlocks it is Prewett Legacy and the enchantment that seals it is Prophecy Wielder."

A crease formed in between Harry's eyebrows. "Prophecy Wielder? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Beats me," Ginny shrugged. "I think it was the title of a book she was reading at the time. How long will you be gone?"

"Not long, so you're alright? You can handle all these munchkins by yourself?" Harry caught Teddy's eye for a moment but Teddy looked away and deliberately stared off into the night.

Ginny gave all her children sharp looks. "I'm sure I'll be fine, my side-along apperation is pretty good, I think I can handle four underage wizards."

Harry gave Ginny a soft kiss on the forehead. "See you in a little bit, Love."

"You be careful," snapped Ginny and with the same sharpness of a loud crack, they were gone.

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