Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Seven- A Mothers Love

Molly had spent the last thirty minutes arguing with Poppy about the restraints.

"He isn't a wild animal that needs to be chained up!"

"I'm not happy about it either, but it is required when..."

"Please, as if this school never breaks rules!" Molly interrupted. "What is he going to do? Even if he wakes, you said yourself he's too weak to leave the bed. Those shackles aren't just unnecessary, they're cruel!"

Poppy flinched visibly, but Molly stood firm, feeling as if it was one of her own sons in that bed.

"Fine," she relented. "But someone has to be with him, at all times!"

"I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Harry was still fast asleep when Molly returned to his room. Letting out a long sigh, she made her way to his side and set to work on the restraints. She couldn't breathe easy until the last one fell away. Settling on the edge of the bed, she pulled a tissue out of her sleeve and leaned over to dab at the blood still leaking from the boy's eyes.

"There now, isn't that better?" she murmured to the sleeping child. "Everything's going to be alright. Arthur is talking to Albus right now about you coming home with us for a while. We think it would be good for you to get away from the school… the papers..." Molly swallowed hard, working to keep her voice even and soothing. "I know how much you like it at the Burrow. And Bill is home for a few days, so you will have someone to talk to. Not to mention..."

Molly was cut short as Harry slowly opened his eyes. Her heart clenched to see his pupils were still blown wide, only a hint of green visible.

Harry winced against the brightness stinging his eyes. How… what… where… he couldn't quite seem to hold on to any of the questions as they formed, floating away as the lights in the room flashed and spun. His brain felt like it was made of bees, his thoughts buzzing and stinging, flying around inside his skull in a loose, uncatchable swarm. All he could see through the swimming fizz of light and color was a figure with long red hair hovering beside him.

"Mom?" he asked hopefully.

Molly felt her heart break at the simple request. "No honey… it's Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh…" Harry replied, staring through her with empty, unfocused eyes for a long moment before slowly, as though his muscles were moving in slow motion, his face crumpled with despair. "Oh, no… no… no..." he wailed, moving his head back and forth, raising his arms to swipe weakly at the air above him, batting at something that wasn't there. "I want my mom!" he sobbed, bloody tears carving sticky red trails down his cheeks. "I want my mom!"

Molly couldn't hold back her own tears as she climbed onto the bed beside Harry and held him, cradling him like a baby and running her fingers through what was left of his hair.

"I know sweetie, I know," she soothed as his crying worsened. "It's okay to want your mom, it's okay to miss her..."

"I...I wanted to be with her...I didn't...I didn't want to be here..." he wept, burying his head against Molly's chest.

"I know sweetie," she whispered, her arms tightening as though she could keep him safe if only she could hold on tightly enough. "It's all going to be alright… it's alright to cry and feel the way you do."

"I...I..."

"Shhhh, you don't need to explain, you don't need to say anything," she assured him, slowly beginning to rock him back and forth. "I'm right here and I'm not going to leave, I'm gonna be right here with you."

"...you smell like Christmas cookies... " Harry slurred as he sucked in a shaky breath.

"Is that so, dear?" she said with a watery laugh. Poppy had warned her that he might still be a bit delirious upon waking. She hadn't mentioned how heartbreaking it would be.

"Christmas cookies… it's a good smell… you always smell like Christmas cookies."

"Thank you Harry, that's nice of you to say," she replied as she cleaned the blood that continue leak out of Harry eyes. "Perhaps we shall bake some cookies when we take you home to the burrow."

"It doesn't taste like Christmas cookies," he mumbled, scrunching up his nose. "...I...I have pennies in my mouth..."

"Pennies?" Molly gave him a questioning look. What on earth were pennies?

"Pennies… er, knuts maybe? Are knuts made of copper? I can't remember..." Harry slurred.

Molly couldn't help the small chuckle as she turned to reach the water on the nightstand and the wastebin beside it.

"Small sips and then spit," she instructed, pressing the glass to Harry's lips.

Harry let out a small moan as water flooded his mouth, washing away the rancid flavor of old blood.

Meanwhile a showdown was taking place in the Headmaster's office.

"He doesn't need to be smothered with cookies and hugs!" Severus yelled.

"At least at our house he won't be left unsupervised to swallow everything in the potions cabinet!" Arthur yelled back.

Severus flinched. "I didn't..." But he couldn't get a word in.

"Didn't what?" Arthur railed, jabbing an accusing finger in his face. "Didn't think he would do it? Didn't care?"

"How dare you -!"

"Look where that got us! Now my son is laying in a hospital bed… er, Harry..." He frowned at his slip, slightly abashed, but quickly rallied. "If Ron and Hermione hadn't woken you then we'd be burying him today!"

"The boy needs to be kept busy," Severus said gruffly in an effort to regain control of the conversation.

"We have plenty to keep him occupied around the house," Arthur retorted. He seemed about to launch into another diatribe when Albus suddenly raised his hand, signalling for quiet.

"What do you two have to say?" Dumbledore asked, turning to Hermione and Ron, who sat wide-eyed and silent on the couch staring back and forth between the arguing adults. At the question, they glanced at each other, sharing a melancholy look of agreement. Neither was happy about it, but they both knew it was the right choice.

"We almost watched Harry die last night," Ron replied. "Perhaps it is a good idea if he went home with my parents, got away from the school… spent some time where he won't be able to see what people are saying… or be reminded of..."

"Harry needs to be where he is loved and cared for," Hermione chimed in. "And that's with the Weasleys. Being here is only causing more damage."

Dumbledores nodded thoughtfully, stroking his beard as he considered. "Wards would need to be placed around the Burrow, Arthur, and you would need to follow Poppy's instructions to the letter. All sharp objects should be removed, Harry can't be left alone..."

"We will do whatever she says," Arthur said eagerly.

Dumbledore nodded, but his eyes were on Severus, watching him carefully for a long moment. When the Potions professor made no further objection, only crossed his arms and looked away, the headmaster slowly nodded again.

"Why don't you two go and pack Harry's things?" he said, addressing the two teens again. "And Arthur, why don't you go and join your wife in the infirmary?"

He showed the three out, closing the door firmly behind them, and turned back to the stolid wizard still standing in the center of his office.