PROLOGUE: Met In the Midnight Hours
The message arrived in a puff of smoke on their kitchen table in the early morning hours of 31 October 1980.
Arthur and Molly Weasley instantly recognized the old hedge-witch spell used for brief, written communications. When Arthur unfurled the thin strip of paper, their hearts both skipped two beats or so as it always did, when they saw the initials used as the signature.
Can we meet? Tonight after midnight, if possible, please. – GCW
There was only one person besides the two of them who knew what those initials stood for and who would be using them to reach out.
"We haven't seen her in months, Arthur," whispered Molly. There was nobody but the two of them in the pale light before dawn, but she was well-practiced in speaking scarcely about their most precious secret. "You don't think something's wrong, do you?"
Arthur couldn't seem to stop staring at the wisp of a message. "If it were an emergency, I don't think she'd be waiting for hours and hours to come see us," he replied, reasonably. "Perhaps she feels the same. It has been months. I can't say I'm the biggest fan of her wandering about at midnight. However, she might have the right idea about the cover of night providing more safety than not."
Molly bit her lip, as torn as her husband.
She cared about safety above all but there was nothing that would make her pass or decline her daughter reaching out to see her. Too much time had been lost already. She didn't care of their daughter wanted to come at midnight or high noon.
Molly would always want to see the child that was stolen from her arms as a baby, although that baby was now a twenty-one year old woman – and she knew that Arthur did, too.
"Let her know we'll be waiting for as early as eleven."
Arthur nodded in vigorous agreement, picking up the slip and speaking into it. The message that scribbled itself out was as short and simple as the one they'd received.
You can be met in the orchard as early as an hour before. – AMW
Throughout the rest of the day, Arthur and Molly were preoccupied.
They prepared their family for the annual Samhain festival; the grand celebration was a collective effort by the families of Ottery St. Catchpole. As it had been for generations, the apple orchards that belonged to the Weasleys provided their contribution to the festival. Arthur and Molly had plenty to prepare between six children and a haul of apple-infused goods to be shared with their fellow villagers.
There was no time to discuss anything about their midnight meeting as they spent the day happily herding their exuberant brood through the festival grounds.
When the sun went down, they took their children through the traditional rites of the holiday almost anxiously, distractedly. Dinner was likely rushed, but none of their brood was old enough to notice. After what seemed like an incredibly long day, Molly was directing their big and loving brood through their bedtime routine while Arthur cleaned the house.
One by one, the children were tucked snugly into bed; Billy and Charlie in their bedroom, talking themselves to sleep, Percy and the twins in their bedroom with bed-wetting and soiled nappy charms cast for the night, then the littlest of them, Baby Ronnie, in his cot in their bedroom with the charmed mobile toy above him.
Finally, The Burrow was quiet, settled down for the night.
Arthur and Molly showered and prepared themselves as if going to bed, as well. They returned downstairs again just as the eleven o'clock hour approached.
Together, anxious and eager all at once, they waited for the deep night visit from their secret, seventh child, known only to them and herself as Gwyneth Cedrella Weasley.
Shortly after midnight, the wards pushed gently at their awareness.
"That'll be her," said Arthur, alertly. "Mollywobbles, put Ronnie to bed. I'll be right back."
Molly unlatched her sleeping baby from her breast, while Arthur pulled on his hooded cloak. They knew who they were expecting but that didn't change the reality that they were at war. They had to be prepared for anything, even the possibility that this was a trap and not a visit from the child that nobody knew was their daughter.
Arthur murmured his usual warning of being alert and keeping her wand at the ready, until he returned.
Molly nodded resolutely as she watched him go out into the deeply dark autumn night.
She was well ready for anything as she easily put Baby Ronnie back into his cot without waking him, before silently and swiftly checking that her other five boys were still sound asleep. The wards closed again without issue. She waited but neither did she hear anything that sounded like an attack. Molly still kept her wand at the ready as the side door opened. Arthur stepped through, ushering someone inside their home –
"Arthur. Tell me the middle name of the witch we're supposed to be met with at midnight."
"Cedrella as given to her by us but Jessamine to all known records and knowledge."
To anyone else but the three people meant to be standing here, the answer would be inexplicable; its oddness didn't take away from the fact that it was right. Molly knew it would be. The risk was in the witch standing next to Arthur.
Brilliant, leaf-green eyes looked on assuredly from beneath the hood of her plain grey traveling cloak, unbothered by Molly holding her at wandpoint.
Molly heard her own voice trembling with the onset of tears, as she demanded their visitor authenticate their identity just like she had with Arthur.
"Tell us the full truth of who you are."
"I am Lily Jessamine Evans, most recently known by my married name of Lily Potter. Nobody else but the two of you present know me by my true name."
Lily Potter allowed the hood of her traveling cloak to fall with a gentle tilt backwards of her head, revealing her thick wealth of ruby-red hair.
The shade of red was what could be expected when the bright scarlet color of Arthur's hair crossed the deeper, wine-and-auburn red of Molly's hair.
"My true name is Gwyneth Cedrella Weasley," concluded Lily with a dewy smile, "as given to me by the two of you, my birth parents, when I was born in January 1960."
Molly allowed her wand to drop as she breathed out a sob of relief.
Arthur and Lily were both who they were supposed to be.
This discreet visit from their secret daughter was not an awful trap. Molly didn't know what they would have done if this was the prelude to an attack from Death Eaters.
Arthur shared her relief with a gentle smile, going to take the traveling cloak from Lily's shoulders –
"Wait!"
Their daughter stepped back out of his reach, hesitantly.
"There are a few reasons why I came tonight. Well, there is actually one reason but from that reason will come the rest. I already know how dangerous this is, so spare me any lectures or fussing. To me, this is worth the risk. Family is always worth the risk. I believe you'll think so, too." A soft noise came from underneath her cloak and Lily looked down, reflexively.
She began to bounce in place, soothing noises coming from her; the fabric of her cloak abruptly rippled and flared, something small and fierce wriggling in the unseen cradle of her arms.
Lily didn't look up, distracted, when she told Arthur: "You can go ahead and remove my cloak now."
Arthur was incredibly hesitant as he reached to take her cloak again.
Molly braced herself for the worst, prepared to find something awful had led Lily to flee to their home in the dead of the night, despite all risk to their safety and lives. When her husband flicked his wand, allowing the gray traveling cloak to lift from her shoulders and drift to the coat hook by the door, Molly was barely breathing in her shock. Arthur was stunned, too.
Neither of them had expected to see the newborn baby that Lily held tenderly to her chest.
A shock of thick, very dark auburn hair was all they could see of the baby, despite its lively wriggling, but it was enough to make it obvious that their daughter was a mother now.
Arthur and Molly were speechless.
"I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you before now. I promise I wanted to. I really did. There just wasn't the chance for me to say anything where it would have been safe – but I don't care about safety anymore. Who knows when we'll ever be safe again?"
The bottomless love of a parent for their child was something that was intimately familiar to both Molly and Arthur.
Lily looked to be enraptured with how much she loved her baby, she turned the newborn in her grip carefully so they could properly see.
"Mother, Father, I want you to meet your grandson, my beautiful Harry James Potter."