Disclaimer: ::busy eating uncooked Raman Noodles:: What do you think? :(

Author's Notes: A short glimpse into what Molly was thinking after facing the Boggart. Written because I don't think there's enough Molly-related-fanfiction out there, and she has the potential to become a very multifaceted character :)

A Mother's Love

He was my youngest son and there he lay in front of me, pale skin now near translucent, blue eyes open, but empty. My youngest son lay dead in front of me. Some part of me screamed that it couldn't be true. And it wasn't. Or at least not today.

Each one flashed before me. Each one as empty and lifeless as the next. They were dead. I could not protect them. I could not save them. I had failed. They were dead and not even my hopeless, wretched tears could bring them back.

Eventually, I was found, and the obvious truth was clear to see. No deaths, not one, just a tired old woman that had tried to do too much.

And I told them I was silly for thinking it, and gave a reassuring little laugh. But it wasn't so silly, because it spurred from something real. I had seen this war before. I had seen the kind of terror Voldemort could bring, and it was nothing they were prepared for.

True, they had been through more then any other children their age, but it wasn't nearly enough. Only Harry, who had come face to face with the Dark Lord, could even begin to understand what was in store for them. There would be fighting, there would be suffering, and there would be death. No matter how hard we fought or how long we cried, there would be death.

The odds are against us again. Seven children of my own, two more that are as good as mine, and a husband I love more then I can say. I was once commended for having such a large and loving family, now it is that same family condemns me. There are just so many lives to be lost, lives that I love so much that they have become intertwined with my own. I can not be so hopefully naïve as to think we will all make it out of this war alive. And should just one of my children die before me, I would die to. No mother should live to dig her child's grave.

But I have dug their graves, in my own small way. I have allowed them to enter into this world of secrets and darkness. I have brought them so much closer to reality then I would ever have wanted them to be. Their own mother has sentenced them to death, brought war so close to them that they can feel its icy breath on their necks.

Why? Because I do what I can to fight. The hero in me screams to save the whole world, but the mother in me screams to save her own. I beg myself to take my loved ones and run away to someplace safe, clutch them tightly against me and protect them like I did when they were young. But I know that nowhere is safe in a world where not even a mother's love can save you.

But I am still their mother, and they are still my children. It's my job to protect them and if I can not shield them from the hell that is about to begin, I can at least try to stop it. Still one woman, as hard as she may try, is not enough to save the world. At times she can only look on helplessly as her children rush to the slaughter.

And it's my youngest boy at the head of the charge, having no idea where he will end up. He's so loyal, so determined to prove himself, that he'll follow Harry blindly into the darkest of the battle, and I can't hope to convince him otherwise. Befriending Harry has shoved him in front of a hail of bullets that won't stop till someone is gone. I fear for him everyday. Though I am ashamed to admit it, at times find myself wishing Harry had never entered our lives.

Of course, those thoughts are fleeting. Harry has become as much a son to me as any of my own children. Do I fear for him? Fear doesn't begin to describe it. The weight of the world rests on his shoulders. He is a savior, a saint, a weapon…and yet, he is still a little boy. But that's one thing the world doesn't want to realize. They build him up, make him a magnificent hero, and conveniently forget that he isn't just some prophecy or fantasy, he is human and he is real. He is as unsafe among his own people as he is among his enemies.

A war is coming, and we will not all survive. Do they know? Do they understand? There's so much I wish I could tell them, warn them about. I watch their innocent faces, fresh and alive with hope. I know they won't stay that way for long. But what difference would it make if I spoke up? Let them be happy now, because they may never be happy again.

Who's to say we will even win this fight? The world is not a fairytale. Good does not always win. We thought we had won this battle once before. We thought for all that we lost, we had gained a place where our families could grow in peace. We thought wrong. We hadn't won at all.

So isn't it still our fight? I wish it was. If only evil was good enough to keep its promises. For all my wants, and wishes, I can't change the underlying truth. This battle is not ours anymore; it is theirs. It is their turn to save the world, and they are the only ones who can.

The fate of us all lies in the shaking hands of three teenage friends. A boy with a scar, a book worm, and a best friend have to be enough to defeat the strongest evil of our time. This is their destiny. It is their time.

"Just wanted to let you know we made it back alright," Ron tells me, peering into the kitchen. I see his eyes float curiously over to the stove.

I smile slightly at his pink cheeks and windblown hair, his gangly arms hanging at either side.

Hermione and Harry stumble into the kitchen next, Hermione laughing at a joke Harry has told. She knocks into Ron, who balances her out before grinning goofily and blushing. All three stand together, wrapped up in their winter clothes and basking in each others warmth.

"You alright, Mum?" Ron asks me. They stare at me with curious eyes and the half smiles that still remain from their time out.

I look into the faces of the protectors of the world.

"Yes, you three," I smile confidently. "I'm going to be just fine."

Fin.

Hope you liked it! :D Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated! :D

Best wishes and warmest regards,

Soragirl

"Have you hugged an author today? Write a review and make one's day." :)