Author's Note: It always bothered me how nonchalant Molly was about Harry and his living conditions. I love Molly, and yes she has her flaws, but you cannot be a seasoned mother like her and just ignore a child in need who was clearly suffering in silence and didn't want to bother others with his problems. So many red flags a mother would see. This is my take on what should've happened.

Enjoy.

Warning Tag: Addresses Child Abuse; Not Dumbledore Friendly; References Possession & After Effects; References to Bullying.

Chapter 1 - Petunia

Motherhood was always something Molly Weasley née Prewett wanted out of life. It had been rooted in her core since she first understood what a life's purpose meant to someone. She knew what hers was since before she could remember; she wanted to be a mother. It was a very traditional and proper aspiration, she knew, but she didn't care so much about the standard customs. She wasn't doing it because it was expected of her to become one, she was doing it for herself, because she wanted to be one. The only challenge Molly faced to help fulfill this life's purpose was to find that perfect someone who shared the same aspiration for parenthood as strongly as she did.

When Molly had found that special someone in Arthur Weasley, she knew he was the one based on his compassion for others. He shared a lot of family values she also valued and was hard working despite his fascination with muggle trinkets. The witch snatched him right up at the first opportunity. The two happened to be purebloods, but blood status was never something important among the Prewett and Weasley families. If anything, the lack of a proper wedding was what perturbed their relatives most. Even though it was a part of Molly's dream to have a large wedding surrounded by loved ones, eloping worked just as well given the circumstances on what the world was facing.

The couple started their family young in the wake of war. It was their way of establishing some form of happiness in such dark times when the uncertainty of tomorrow overshadowed the world. Molly didn't find it ideal to raise children in the height of it all, but there were careful steps made in order to keep their modest cottage—and quickly growing family—on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole safe and protected.

Having seven children in the modern wizarding world was quite the dedication—and to some, quite reckless—but it was what Molly always wanted. A large kin did not come cheap, either. Making sure there was adequate space for everyone to be comfortable in was costly, and so many of the renovations and additional floors added to their cottage were handled by Molly and Arthur. It was tough on a single mid-grade government salary, but they made due. Molly strived to provide everything needed for her family; food on the table, a roof over their heads, properly fitted clothing (even the hand-me-downs were adjusted for their next owner's comfort), and above all, giving unconditional love and making sure everyone was happy.

Stretching their galleons became a skill Molly took pride in. If the witch could cook it, stitch it, or raise it, she did just that to keep costs low. It was why the modest property was covered in gardens and chickens, and the Burrow (as the name of their house was lovingly referred to as) always smelled of various home-baked goods and meals.

Molly was a seasoned mother by the time she unknowingly met the famous Harry Potter at Kings Cross. She knew at first glance that there was something abnormal about the boy, but not in the way most would've thought. He was alone, confused, and lost as he hauled a trunk and owl around the station while reading signs.

Every motherly alarm in her head went off at the sight of him. Seeing that the obvious first year had no escort or even a clue as to where to go, she hastily approached him while dragging her daughter behind her.

"Hello, dear," Molly said kindly, offering a gentle smile to the boy who now looked up at her. "Are you needing help finding a platform?"

He gave her a hesitant nod, seeming unsure on if he should have even answered to a stranger. Looking to her children that quickly filed in behind her, she absentmindedly spoke to the boy again, forgetting that he was carrying an owl around to help indicate where he was needing to be whisked away to.

"Now, what was the platform number you need?"

"You've been coming here for years, and today you've suddenly forgotten it?" one of the twins said as they approached Molly. "She's finally lost it, George!"

She gave Fred a hard swat on the arm. "You mind your business!" Looking back at the boy, she clarified her question. "Do you need help getting to nine and three-quarters?"

He nodded before her children started moving passed them. The black-haired boy watched with widened eyes as they all casually ran through the wall in staggered bursts. Molly saw the look on his face go from confusion, to shock, to complete awe. He glanced around at all the oblivious people just walking right on by, not bothering to notice what he'd just seen.

She smiled again, seeing that the young wizard was clearly unsure of what to do or say. "Come stand over here, you can go before Ron, it will be his first time to Hogwarts as well."

Molly flagged both boys over toward the wall, pointing to it as she explained what to do. "Now, don't be scared, but all you have to do is exactly what you saw."

She held back the urge to inquire about his lack of escort, the poor child already looked embarrassed and uncomfortable enough as is. She didn't want to further agitate him as she watched him be absorbed through the wall before quickly following behind. It occurred to her that he might have came from an orphanage based on his appearance, but wouldn't the Ministry make sure that children with no family would be properly directed on where to go when they received their letter?

When her kids told her a few minutes later that the child she helped was the Harry Potter, she couldn't fully believe it herself. If that were true, surely he'd be placed in much better care than an orphanage. Why would the boy who saved the wizarding world appear so poorly? It seemed like Harry should deserve far better as a thanks for defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was the very least their government could do for him, so they should have done better.

She made sure to send Harry some gifts for Christmas after Ron mentioned he wasn't expecting anything from the relatives he happened to live with. Every child should have something to open, even if it was a home-knit jumper and some baked goods. It just didn't feel like she was putting in enough effort to help Harry, but she was withholding her motherly intuition and instincts, giving his relatives the benefit of the doubt. She shouldn't judge his home life based on his appearance, perhaps his guardians were not that well off themselves and were doing the best they could for him.

It wasn't until Molly finally saw his guardians at the end of term and tried to engage them that had her change her mind. Not only were they quite rude, they were already yelling at Harry to hurry it up and quickly walked away while he struggled with his things. By their nicely groomed appearances and well fed glow, they didn't scream the poverty that Harry did when she first met him.

When her three youngest sons brought Harry to the Burrow during the summer, she was repulsed by what they told her they rescued him from. That was what they called it: a rescue. They explained that bars were mounted on his window, a small hole was carved out in the door where a plate of dry toast and a cup of water sat in front of it untouched. The door was locked on the outside so Harry couldn't leave his room, and all his belongings were stowed and locked under the stairs. It sounded like Harry was living in a prison rather than a home.

Pulling him aside when she had the chance, Molly decided to finally address the situation. "Harry dear, I wanted to let you know that I'll be writing to your guardians to inform them that you are in good hands. Is that alright?"

It was important to get his approval, though she wasn't fully aware of the extent of Harry's living conditions, she had heard enough to make her heartache for the boy and burn with fury at his so-called relatives. If he didn't want them to know where he was, she surely wasn't going to jeopardize it and disclose his location. Letting them know he was okay was a simple courtesy, really.

He gave her a slight shrug, uncaring about Molly's proposal. "I don't think they'd care. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't bother to look for me even if I was legitimately kidnapped, anyway."

The response Harry gave her was appalling that she almost marched out the door at that moment to confront these awful people. "They won't worry?"

"They never have before, but you can write them if you'd like."

Molly hid the concern through a gentle smile before he went out to the garden to help her sons. She should have taken action the moment she saw Harry abandoned at the station, left to his own devices with little knowledge of the magical world. She wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, to reserve her judgment until she knew for sure, but neglecting the signs, the call that screamed at her from deep within that said; 'This is wrong' was silenced by doubt. Had she not been there at the right time, who knows what could have happened to him if he missed the train?

She made up her mind, this grave error needed to be rectified in the name of motherhood. Even if it wasn't for one of her children, it was for a child in desperate need to be in a safe and secure home life.

Things were going to change, Molly was going to make sure of it.

Pulling some freshly baked pumpkin pastries from the oven, she placed them on a cooling rack before starting on lunch. Wishing to use some leftover ham from the night before, Molly quickly got to work on some ham and cheese scones.

Sticking her head out the window two hours later, she hollered for the kids. "Lunch is ready! Come in and wash up!"

Once everyone was served, Molly finished her letter to Harry's guardians. The growing anger she felt while thinking over what the twins had said about his living situation had her bleed ink into the paper from the pressure of the quill as she signed it. How could anyone fashion a cell in their own home for a kid to live in? Molly decided after she sent everyone off to school a month later, she was going straight to their door and confront the problem directly.

It came as no surprise when the Dursley's never responded to her note about Harry's general well being and that he was being looked after. The audacity to not send a reply in acknowledgment fueled her anger even more. They simply didn't care, just as Harry said.

Molly Weasley could admit when she made a grave mistake, but the Dursley's made an even graver one for showing no concern for someone who relied on them. Mother Lioness was coming for them, not only to ease her mind, but to protect her kin in all but blood. After all, she already had taken Harry in as one of her own, regardless if he realized it or even accepted it himself. He was hers now.

Apparating into Little Whinging after sending everyone off to school, Molly smoothed out her dress and tightened her grip on the large purse she brought with that stowed a peace offering of pumpkin pastries, various scones, and tarts within. Marching out of the small cluster of trees onto the pavement, she observed the street signs carefully before finding the one she needed: Privet Drive.

There was no charm or character to the plain looking neighborhood. There wasn't a blade of grass out of place on their pristine gardens as she walked past while looking for the number four. Seeing no motorcar in front of the one she paused in front of, Molly hoped that the person she wished to speak with was still home.

Giving the varnished front door a good knock, Molly patiently waited for someone to answer. A long-necked woman with an ugly look on her face peered from the window nearby before slowly unlocking the door and cracking it open just enough until the chain-lock prevented it from moving any further.

"I'm not interested in your hippy concoctions! Good day!"

Molly stopped the door from closing with a firm hand, finding the reaction quite rude. "Excuse me, Mrs. Dursley? I'm Molly Weasley. I sent you a letter about a month ago in regards to Harry?"

The woman lost all color on her face at the introduction. The witch was surprised she didn't faint on the spot. With a quick movement to remove the chain, she opened the door just a little wider. The long-necked woman stuck her head out to scan the immediate vicinity before reluctantly ushering Molly inside. She didn't want the neighbors to overhear her nephew's name coming from a strange woman wearing a handmade mustard yellow dress with a bold flower print on her doorstep.

Slamming the door, Petunia turned and folded her arms across her waist and pursed her lips as she took in the plump woman's appearance.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Dursley," Molly held her hand out to offer a proper greeting, but Petunia only tightened her hands around her own arms and physically stiffened.

The witch wasn't sure how to handle someone with such a stand-offish manner, but she would try and remain polite. "I brought some home-baked goods, thought it'd be nice to have over some tea."

Molly shuffled through her purse then, pulling out her wand and placing it between her teeth before removing the plate of goods to offer Petunia. She looked even more sickly when the witch looked back at her and quickly tucked the wand away.

"I'm sorr—"

"Why are you here?" Petunia snapped suddenly, eyes sharpening. "You said you had Harry handled."

"You speak of him like he is cattle being sent to slaughter," Molly dished back, not finding the statement pleasant. "I was worried that my letter became lost when I didn't hear back from you."

"I felt no need to respond," she said coldly.

Molly all but glared at Petunia. Before she said anything else, the witch decided to place the peace offering somewhere and immediately found her way right into the kitchen. Petunia was quick on her heels.

"Where are you going!"

"Just placing these here and getting some tea on."

Just to annoy Petunia, Molly casually swished her wand to have the kettle fill with water and hop onto the now lit gas stove nearby.

The horrifying squeak from Petunia was satisfying. Molly turned on her suddenly, wand still in hand as she placed it on her hip. "Since being polite is not going to be something you want to try, I'll drop the formalities."

Molly unwrapped the baked goods she sat on the table and took a seat. "Let's talk mother to mother, if you will."

Petunia reluctantly sat in the chair opposite the witch. Preparing for where this conversation was going to lead, she dug her manicured nails into her legs while watching Molly weave her magic in front of her. It grabbed the tea and its dressings and danced them over through the air before nestling themselves on the table with the baked goods between them.

Watching the magic flow so freely awed and mortified Petunia all over again.

Molly prepped her tea quietly before taking a sip. "Harry has been under your care for some time now and yet, after only being around him for a short while, he seems to greatly dread his home life. I find it a bit concerning a child loathes the very place he should call home, don't you?"

Petunia swallowed hard, wishing to busy her hands before she drew blood on her legs, she shakily started to prep her own cuppa. "I-It's a difficult task, raising two children, especially when one is a fre—" she stalled, feeling the bright brown eyes of the witch bore into her.

"Being a mother of seven—you heard right, six of them boys—never in my life would I treasure one more than the other, regardless of what they claim," Molly paused to take another drink of tea and grabbed a pumpkin pastry. "Being a mother yourself to not one, but two despite one is not yours by blood, should be treated as a gift. How could you live with yourself treating Harry so poorly? I fail to see the difficulty you claim when you appear to be more than adequately suited to care for two children."

Petunia struggled to remain composed. Getting to her feet without a word, she vanished from the room for several minutes. Molly finished her tea and most of her pastry before Petunia returned with a small locked box. Placing it on the table, she opened it and handed the parchment to the witch.

Molly read it over carefully before Petunia spoke.

"I never wanted to be a part of-of this preposterous freak show!" she snapped, slamming a hand on the table. "No one asked if I wanted to take my sister's child, he was thrust upon me with nothing but a letter and a claim I couldn't just drop him off at some orphanage! I hadn't spoken to Lily for years beforehand, so she had absolutely no reason to burden me with her son. Lily knew I never wanted to be a part of her abnormal world and for good reason!

"But then that Dumbledore comes here and drops him off like a gift basket, saying there's nutty magic placed on my home that was to help keep him safe," she hissed out, acting scandalized by the entire thing. "Rubbish, I thought, but my hands were tied! You lot use your freakiness to sway people into doing what you want with no regard for others approval!"

Molly listened in silence, mostly out of shock rather than out of courtesy to hear the woman rant away her supposed problems.

"If Harry is so important to your sort, why don't you take him, then?" Petunia snapped, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. "I honestly do not care what you think of me, I have never considered him to be a son of mine, and I never will! He's done nothing but ruin our lives!"

Molly stood up quickly. Shaking a very stern finger between them, she unleashed her own fury. "How dare you speak about that boy as if he's such a terrible burden on you! Children should be anything but! You should've done better in knowing and understanding that you were entrusted with a child—your sister's son—who suffered and survived a devastating outcome against his will. To continue to tear him down and punish him just because of what he is despite knowing all this is absolutely disgusting! What would your own mother think if she saw you treating one of her grandsons like this?"

Petunia dropped back in her chair like a rock as the frightening woman before she sparked fire from her eyes. All the hot air disappeared from her, and the mention of her mother had every last word from her mouth stolen away. She sat there, stunned completely into silence.

"Where is Harry's room?" Molly demanded, suddenly making her way down the hall and to the stairs.

She went up them in no time at all, Petunia now scrambling up them behind her. "You have no right to—"

The witch rounded on her before she made it to the landing. "No, you have no right! My sons told me some horrifying things, and despite how sickening it is to think about, I want to see it for myself."

Petunia did not argue back, and Molly scanned the corridor she now stood in. There were a total of five doors, one of them was a bathroom. It didn't take her but a second to spot the door with a padlock and pet door mounted on it. She felt herself grow pale with revulsion as she easily unlocked the padlock with her wand and pushed open the door. The plain room met her gaze, and as she looked around the barren bedroom, she noticed that what little that was in there was broken down; paint was chipped, the wardrobe didn't close, and the bed looked lumpy. But everything was still in its place and neat. The desk had its chair pushed in, the bed was made, and what looked like old school supplies was neatly sorted on the desk.

There was no personal touch from Harry at all to make the space his own. No pictures, no anything. Molly went and opened the window to let the stuffy air out of the room and saw the frame was damaged from the bars that were now re-installed. It was all true, they really did fashion the place to be a jail cell. Swallowing down the vomit she felt bubbling up, Molly left the room and slammed the door closed.

She pushed past Petunia and made for the kitchen to collect her purse. Petunia had found her voice in the several long minutes of losing it, courage restored.

"It isn't as if we whip the boy. He is fed, clothed, and bathed. All of the essentials are given."

Molly wasn't having any of it.

"Harry is only a child. He needs love, affection, and a place to safely call home with people who can properly provide this without thinking it's an obligation! How dare you call yourself a mother! There is far more to it than the bare essentials. You have his room fashioned as a cage and you talk about him like he is some feral child you plucked from the forest!" Molly's outward appearance turned fierce now, voice raising with every sentence as her frustration with what she uncovered overwhelmed her.

"You should be ashamed of yourself for knowingly inflicting harm to an innocent person like this!" Molly collected her tray of baked goods, rewrapped them, and stuffed them carelessly into her bag.

Flicking her wand, she had her teacup hop over to the sink to self clean itself and rest in the drain tray to dry. "You don't have to convince me to take that poor boy off your cruel, ungrateful hands! Blood wards or not! Harry deserves someone far better than you people!"

Petunia remained quiet, yet her face was still stone cold and passive. This infuriated Molly even more that the woman held no shame or guilt for what she had done. The witch was certainly going to have some strong words with Dumbledore after learning that it was his idea to place Harry in the home of these vile people. If he thought this was a way to keep him safe, he was dreadfully wrong. How could he claim this kept him out of harm's way when the very people he lived with were the ones harming him! How dare he?

Molly started for the front door but paused when she realized that she didn't need to leave the normal way out of respect anymore. "Do not think this is the last time you will see or hear from me, Mrs. Dursley!"

She disapparated right in front of Petunia, uncaring of her reaction or the sound it left behind. Molly was on a mission to hunt down Dumbledore and give him an earful while she planned to happily tell Harry that he won't need to worry about returning to the Dursleys at the end of term ever again. There was no way she was going to have something such as blood magic keep her from taking him, there were plenty of other old and powerful charms that could be put in place on her own home that would protect him just as well. If he needed protection, Molly was more than capable of offering that and more.

Dark Lord be damned! Harry was going to get the life he deserved.

Author's Note: Oh my gosh, the response to this story is amazingly overwhelming. Thank you to all who have reviewed, favourited, and followed. It truly means a lot to me. I am not sure how long this story will run, but I look forward to walking the journey with all of you. xoxo

Originally written for:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)
Monthly Challenges for All
The Houses Competition

Word Count: (Per Google Docs) 4,066

Proofread Update: November 2019