Glutch: to swallow.

June 26, 1995

Dumbledore had expected it sooner, the firm rapping on his office door. He let her have the satisfaction of the sharp, decisive pounding against the polished wood before calling a calm admittance, and met his visitor's expression of set determination without surprise.

"Good morning, Molly," he said politely.

"Good morning, Professor," Molly Weasley offered cordially. "I hoped I could speak to you about something. It's rather important."

Dumbledore nodded to the chair in front of his desk and folded his hands over the papers before him as she settled herself across from him, giving her his full attention.

"I've spoken to my husband," she began in a respectful tone, though the firmness of her knock resonated in her voice. "And we would like to take Harry straight home with us when the term ends in a few days."

She looked like there was rush of things she wanted to say, but pulled herself back to gauge his reaction. He merely pressed his fingertips together and went on observing her passively, waiting for her to speak her peace.

"Professor, you and I both know how Harry feels about returning to that house ordinarily, and how his aunt and uncle feel about it, too. It must be the worst place to send him after… after everything that's happened. I spent most of yesterday in and out of the hospital wing, and I'm quite worried about him. I know we aren't his legal guardians, but Arthur and I would like to take him for the summer so that he'll have someone to help him deal with all of this, two adults he knows hold his best interests at heart and whom he can turn to at any time. I'm afraid his, ah… family… won't provide that."

Dumbledore watched her for another moment before regretfully delivering the answer he had been anticipating for more than a day.

"I'm very grateful for your generosity and compassion, Molly, and I'm sure Harry is, too. But I'm afraid he must return to his aunt and uncle's home as soon as term is out. As you said, they are his legal guardians, and he has not seen them since last august."

And as he'd also anticipated, Molly gaped at him. But only for a moment. Then her jaw snapped shut, her cheeks colored, and her normally-kindly eyes flashed.

"You know as well as I do," she began again, "that his aunt and uncle glory in the arrangement. I cannot believe they'd object to us taking him home and Arthur and I have long-since agreed to override their parental decisions in regard to Harry anyway."

"You are quite right, Molly, but this is my decision, and it is final, I'm afraid."

Molly shot to her feet, and there was a fierce look on her face that gave him a taste of how the champions must have felt attempting to take an egg from their dragon in the first task.

"Arthur went to collect Harry from their house before the World Cup. Do you know there are no pictures of him anywhere in that house? His uncle nearly smashed him over the head with a plate! Every year he comes back from them practically skin and bone, and I've heard the way they speak to him. They want nothing to do with him, and for the life of me I can't imagine why you insist on sending him back there. Why is it your decision at all, Albus?"

These accusations, hurled at him with all her might, finally seemed to crack that calm demeanor. A savage sense of triumph mixed with mortified shame filled Molly, but she ignored both. This was not about the two of them. This was about a child, a fourteen-year-old boy who was now too quiet and too pale and whom she was already afraid they might lose before their eyes.

"It is my decision, Molly, because like it or not, Harry is very important to the wizarding world differently and more primarily than he is very important to you. It is my decision because, forgive me, I know much more about the situation than you or Cornelius Fudge or even Harry himself. And finally" – he raised his voice slightly as she gave every sign of interrupting – "It is my decision because Lily and James Potter made me executer of their will, which includes the care-taking of their son until he is seventeen."

"They don't take care of him, Albus!" she burst out furiously. "They cannot possibly understand what he'd gone through, and they won't try to!"

"I have plans to write a letter to Petunia Dursley explaining the situation," Dumbledore offered as if it rectified the matter.

Molly sputtered, unable to vocalize her indignation at this statement. At last, she threw herself back into the chair and fixed Dumbledore with a stony expression. "I am not leaving this office until you explain to me why sending Harry back to people who neglect and starve him is in his best interest."

The headmaster sighed and rubbed his eyes beneath his half-moon glasses, the first signs of the exhausting past thirty-six hours. "Very well, Molly. But I must first impress upon you the importance of this matter's discretion. Harry does not even understand the entire thing himself, and I would like to keep it that way, at least for the time being."

He waited for her to nod accent before continuing.

"On Halloween, 1981, Lily Potter gave her life for her son. To the best of my knowledge, although I was not there and cannot say for certain, Lord Voldemort offered her the chance to live and she refused to stop shielding her child. The magic enacted by that kind of sacrifice is ancient, mysterious, and exceptionally powerful. That kind of love leaves an inerasable mark, one that flows in Harry's very blood. That is what stopped Voldemort from killing Harry as a child, and that part of Lily Potter lives on in her son and in her sister, you see? As long as Harry calls his aunt's house home, when he is there, he cannot be touched. That barrier cannot be jumped by anything Voldemort or his followers may attempt.

"Harry is in exceptional danger right now. Please, Molly. I am only too aware of the situation on Privet Drive, and I regret its necessity as much as you do. It's difficult to swallow, but I would rather he be hungry, lonely and alive than risk his safety and that of whoever harbors him, and I am sure he would prefer that, too."

Molly had dropped her gaze to her knees. Her vision had gone blurry as she saw Lily Potter begging for her son's life. Eventually she cleared her throat and stood up.

"We may have to send him back," she said, smoothing her robes, "but that does not give Vernon and Petunia Dursley license to treat him as they have." She turned and walked to the door with measured steps. As she turned the handle, she looked back at the headmaster with that same no-arguments look she'd come in with. "He'll come to us at the very earliest possible, then. I can't imagine Lily Potter gave her life for her son to live like that."

And then she left the room.

A/N: Hey, I'm back! I wanted to update on Halloween as tribute, you know, but I was kind of busy. Fall break is over and done with and the reason I didn't update this at all (heh, sorry!) is because I was working on the next chapter of Letters. Yes, it's coming, I swear! Now I meant to start NaNo with my free afternoon, but this was stuck in my head, so I had to write it out. I remembered Ron mentioning that his mother had spoken to Dumbledore about this and suddenly had to know how exactly that interaction went down.

For the anonymous reviewer who agreed with me about Year of Darkness, your email didn't show up! If you still want to read my critique of that story, you could try again of periods. Otherwise, I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who feels that way, too!

Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me! I know I'm terribly slow! Review anyway? Please?