Prologue:

"No charm shall bring a girl child to your womb, not before Strength is born, but fear not, Eloquence is born out of failure, and she shall be strength's companion."

Molly shook herself free off the hag even as Arthur asked, "What did you say?"

The hag shrank back from him. "Please sir, please sir," she entreated. "I don't know, sir." Her eyes were wide with fear. "Don't hex me, sir. I'm ill, sir. I never remember what I say. Please don't hex me, sir."

"Here." Molly watched as Arthur thrust a Sickle they could ill afford at the hag. "Get something to eat."

"Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you." The sickle was snatched from Arthur fingers and the hag scuttled away in a manner witch reminded Molly uncomfortably of a house elf.

Molly felt Arthur's hand come protectively over her distended stomach. The child though unborn was called William.

Weasley's never had girls.

Part One : Eloquence is given.

It was raining, and Arthur Weasley was worried. These were trying times and in different parts of England, Weasleys were engaged, each in their own way, holding back the darkness that threatened to engulf their world.

His wife had been gone most of the day. It was a chore she had not wished to delay and one only she could perform, but now what daylight there was was fading, and Molly had not yet returned.

Then he saw her, her mop of red hair a beacon to his tired eyes. She was climbing out of a muggle car, a small red one with white stripes. He could see in the car, his wife turn to embrace a muggle woman with chestnut hair and shake hands with the driver, a man, the woman's husband. His wife stood in the rain waiting for the car to disappear out the village, and then she turned toward the shadows.

"Arthur?"

He allowed the glamour to fall away, revealing his hiding place. "I'm here, Molly."

She ran to him and he hugged her in relief. "Molly what happened? Where's your broom?"

"Oh Arthur, the broom failed, you know how those old Cleansweeps are in the rain," she cast about her. "Oh dear, I've left it in the car. The muggles, they were so sweet, they gave me a lift, insisted on bringing me right to the village."

Arthur looked into his wife's eyes. "You've been crying?"

"Oh, it's just so sad, Arthur, the poor woman's barren. We have so many children, and she can't even have one."

"Surely the muggle doctors?"

"Oh, she said they tried everything, she used lots of words I didn't understand, but there was no hope. They were thinking of divorce! Please don't be angry, Arthur."

"Why should I be angry?" Then he realized. "Molly you didn't? It was all our savings."

"I couldn't help it, Arthur, we have been blessed so many times and she had nothing."

"A Witch Charm, Molly, it won't give them just any child."

"I know, Arthur, but it was all I had. I don't care about the cost, Arthur. It was the right thing to do!"

Arthur sighed, he wasn't angry. He had married this woman and he knew her nature better than any man did; he could not expect her to act against it.

"I'm just concerned, Molly; she'll be born a witch, and this is a bad time for Muggleborn witches."

"There must be something we can do, Arthur, to protect them from him."

"I'll talk to Dumbledore; he may be able to do something. Can you remember their names?"

"Granger," she said. "Dennis and Sylvia Granger."

Part Two: The Gift of Strength

The child had been eager to get into the world, the labour swift; there had been too little time to get to the hospital, so it had fallen upon Arthur to deliver his own son, in the very bed in which he had been conceived. Now mother and son were receiving an illustrious visitor.

Albus Dumbledore had entered her bedroom.

Molly was acutely aware, despite the cleansing charms performed by her husband, of the myriad of smells that had accompanied the birth, of sweat, and blood, and other things.

"Good evening, Molly," the old wizard said. "It appears that my visit has coincided with this fortuitous occasion."

"Good evening, Professor."

"Is this the young man? May I hold him? I so rarely hold babies," he chuckled. "By the time they come to me, they are almost grown and believe they know everything."

Dumbledore took the baby and cradled him naturally in him arms. "Have you named him yet?"

Molly blushed. "I was still hopeful. I only had girls names chosen."

"Ah, yes, the missing charm. I'll address that just now, but for the moment this child needs a name." He paused in thought. "Will you accept a suggestion, Molly?"

She nodded.

"Call him 'Ronald' dear. It means 'strength,' and it is something we have grave need of in these times."

"Ronald," she said. "Ron." It seemed to fit, as if the name was just waiting to be revealed. "Yes. I'll speak to Arthur, but it's right, it's his name."

The old wizard smiled. "Oh dear," he said.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Molly. It just appears that having christened your son, he has decided to christen me."

He handed the child back to Molly and muttered a quick cleaning spell on his robes.

"Now to other business. The uh, lost charm that Arthur told me about. The Grangers have had a daughter who will in all probability attend Hogwarts in the same year as this young fellow. Precautions have been taken."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I should never have given a Witch Charm to Muggles."

"Nonsense, my dear, you acted as your heart dictated. Such gifts, sacrifices of love, have a way of replaying themselves many times over. Your son here is part of that repayment, as is the gift I have for you."

"A gift for me?"

"From a young Muggleborn witch who has shown great promise in these ancient magics." Dumbledore reached into his robe and pulled out a small parcel. "A charm freely given to replace the one sacrificed."

"A charm? But these are so expensive, I can't just take it."

"It is this witch's first charm; she has doubts as to its potency. She will accept no payment."

"How can I thank her then?"

"I'm afraid you can't dear. I'm afraid I can't even reveal her name. She has been forced into hiding."

"Can you tell her?"

"If I see her again… yes."

Part Three - Bittersweet

The celebrations were muted at the Burrow. Throughout all of England, wizards and witches were celebrating the defeat of 'He-who-must-not-be-named,' but while Molly was grateful that her sons and her recently born daughter could face a brighter future, the cost appeared to her to be too much.

"I can tell you now, Molly." There was great sadness in Albus Dumbledore's voice. "That your Witch Charm was made by Lily Potter. It was the only one she ever made."

"The child, Professor? Harry. He'll need a home. We could take Harry, Professor, to repay the debt. There are enough Weasley's to protect him from what's left of the scum."

"I have no doubt you could, Molly, but is it fair to subject your children to a siege from these vile creatures?"

"Weasley's pay their debts."

There is no debt, Molly. Lily expected nothing from you, anymore than you expect something from the Grangers."

"But the boy."

"I have made arrangements for his care, Molly, and his safety."

"What can I do?"

"Raise your children, Molly. I don't believe this war is won. This is but a respite. Raise them to be strong and true."

Fin.