Thank You

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The wonderful JK Rowling created them and the plot in which they exist. I'm only letting my own imagine expand on it.

Summary: There's one certainty about everyone's past; a mother. This is just a little fluff centering on a mother's love and mother-to-mother gratitude. Does not contain HBP spoilers.

Molly Weasley climbed into bed that night at peace with the world, well as much as she could be. Arthur was away on Order business and her children were all safely tucked away...somewhere. She had the utmost confidence that Fred, George, Ron and Ginny would be safe at Hogwarts, and even though they weren't her children officially, she was all the more reassured that Harry and Hermione were there too. She had seen Bill only a few hours ago, and he was staying at his flat in the middle of Muggle London which was probably the least dangerous place for a young wizard in Britain besides Hogwarts.No one in their right mind would attack Charlie's dragon reserve in the dead of winter (mating season), and Percy, well, Percy wasn't exactly putting a target on his back.

Arthur's mission for the Order that night was one of the most routine things she could possibly imagine. She almost wondered if he was given it just so he'd feel useful. But, at least , as she convinced herself before falling asleep, there was nothing to worry about for the night.

The only thing that would take away from Molly's pleasant contentment with her family's safety was a dream she'd have that night. It wasn't a nightmare, not even bad, far from it actually, but it had just seemed all too real.

"Molly Weasley?" the young woman said as she sat down in an armchair covered in a patchwork quilt across the coffee table. Molly had been knitting Christmas jumpers and listening to the WWN. The music seemed to die away as the young woman spoke. "Molly Weasley?"

"Yes?" Molly answered absentmindedly as she barley glanced up from her knitting. She had to take a second glance. She had first assumed this to be one of her children or maybe Arthur or that nice French girl Bill had been seeing lately, but she had never seen this woman before. She seemed to be in her early twenties with long dark red hair and startling green eyes.

"Molly, this will be a shock to you, I know, but I'm Lily Potter," she explained. Molly felt an odd calming sensation go over her as her initial fear of seeing a stranger sitting in her living room subsided. "I know Harry's been staying with you and you've been looking after him. You love him like a son, and that's more than I could ever ask for. He may have never said it, but he loves you too."

"Oh…" was all that Molly could say. Lily went on.

"That was the hardest thing the night I died. When I knew he had killed James andwas going to kill me no matter what he said, it hit me so quickly. I wasn't going to let him kill my baby, but I knew too that I'd have to leave him alone in the world. People judge him all the time, and when I sense things like that sometimes, where I am, all I want to do is tell him that there's nothing he could ever do and there's nothing that could ever happen to make me or his father stop loving him. I don't care what he's beig called these days, because to me, he's my baby and always will be. I can't tell him that though, so Molly, thank you so much…for that."

With that, Molly woke up. A shot of white-silver smoke had just shot across the room very close to her head. She sat bolt upright and saw a patronus circling the room in the shape of a Phoenix.

The next thing Molly knew she was racing into St. Mungo's. Dumbledore had explained that Harry had seen Arthur bitten by a snake in a dream that night on his Order duty. When she found her husband at the hospital , the Healer thereassured her that her husband would recover because he'd been found on time. Molly came to her senses quickly and noticed that the Healer was indeed astonished as to how Mr. Weasley ended up there so fast, but, like all Healers, he refrained from asking any questions and merely went on about his business.

Then Molly suddenly understood that it was Harry's dream that had brought Arthur there in time. If he hadn't had it, Arthur would've been dead by then already. Ignoring, for a second, her husband's words about the snake and what had happened, she stood up straight, and, remembering her own dream from less than an hour before, she whispered "No Lily, it's I who should thank you."