Disclaimer: This story is for amusement factor only and makes no profit, at all. I do not own the Harry Potter series, the characters, or the world.

Summary: The second war left its mark and Hogwarts mourned. But it ain't over until the huge magical castle roars. Hogwarts chooses her champion that will save her children: Molly Weasley. Molly is sent back in time to save Hogwarts' children, by any means necessary.

Author's Note: I need a beta. I don't know how to find one. I am looking for someone who is willing to put in the time to help me iron out any plot holes I may have missed or identify areas that need to be flushed out, not to mention spelling/grammar. Am I asking too much? I don't know, but if someone out there thinks they can help me I would be thankful. Please?

Also, I promised myself I wouldn't post another story on this site until it was at least more than half way finished. I'm breaking my rule because I think I have a good grasp on what each chapter is going to contain and I already know the ending. And for some reason, I just want to post it, so there.

Chapter 1

Molly Weasley focused her efforts on tidying the classroom she was currently in on the north side of Hogwarts Castle. Two weeks passed since the Battle of Hogwarts. Two weeks passed since her boy Fred died.

"Scourgify," she cast angrily at the blackboard.

The war took so many from them and now it was time to rebuild. There were many busy rebuilding the Ministry. There were a good number of people, mostly students or former students of the past couple years, also tending to Hogwarts.

Molly found the most abandoned corridor of classrooms to work.

She did her wailing. She did her crying. She held all her remaining babies to her and wouldn't let them out of her sight. Now she was angry. And when she was angry she cleaned.

But she couldn't look at anyone right now. She had to let out her anger somehow. And the damn bitch Bellatrix wasn't around for her to kill again.

She straightened desks and banished dust. She opened windows to let in the light.

She moved to another room and did the same. And then another room. In some cases, there wasn't much to do, not like at Grimmauld Place where it remained untended for so many years. Hogwarts was well cared for so not many pests were about the place.

But in other areas…she closed the door to that classroom. The damage was too great. Someone who could repair the stone foundations would be needed. She marked the door with red spellotape so the experts in that area could repair it.

She was moving more and more to where the damaged areas were and before she knew it, she was in an unfamiliar area of the castle. It had been years since she walked these halls, but she didn't recall ever going this way. She never had been one interested in exploring Hogwarts. When she had been eleven, it was a place of wonder and magic to be sure, but it was a school first and foremost.

So when she came across a stairwell she wasn't familiar with, it really wasn't a surprise. It was dustier than the rest of Hogwarts. It wasn't the dust of debris and rubble but the dust gained from the passing of time. A few spells took care of that, however. A lumos took care of the lack of light.

Had it been any of her children going down these steps, their minds would have immediately jumped to wondering what they'd find. Was it a secret room, a buried treasure, or an undiscovered passageway? Not Molly Weasley. She wondered what sort of mess she was about to encounter.

And yes, a little piece of her mind wondered if her Fred would have thought those fantastical things. But she wouldn't ever know, would she.

The stairwell that went down somehow strangely led her into a circular room surrounded by windows. She walked to one of the windows and looked out. Oh. She was in one of the towers. She knew Hogwarts was funny like that but a part of her had forgotten.

There was only one item in the room and it was a podium with the largest book she had ever seen resting on it.

"It's the Hogwarts registry."

Molly spun around to see that it was the Grey Lady.

"My mother made it." The ghost's fingers ran over the open pages, as if remembering.

"Your mother, dear?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw. This book records everyone in the area who is eligible to attend Hogwarts. Take a look. Its page is open to those who would be first years this coming September."

Molly walked over and had to admit she was curious. Very few were ever privileged to see the book. "Why are there lines through the names?" There were lines through over half of the children's names.

"If a child dies, their name is crossed off, but never removed. It is a tribute to them, that they would have had a place here had they survived."

Just under a hundred names were crossed off between the two pages. The wizarding world's population had swelled greatly since the last war with You-Know-Who. And to see that one class had over half gone…

She flipped the page to those who would attend in the following year, and again. And again. She shook when she got to the page of children who were only a year old now. At least a thousand children, culled by the Death Eaters.

"Those who invaded these halls made it their mission to rid the next generation of all muggleborn and half-blood children. They hadn't finished the job, of course, but the damage is done."

Molly flipped the pages backwards. First to Ginny's class, then Ron and Harry's. Finally she flipped to Fred and George's. Many of their class's names were now in gold, but not theirs. And Fred's name, poor Fred, his name was crossed off.

"The gold writing mean's they've graduated. Once they've graduated, the book stops tracking them."

Molly barely heard her. She was busy running a finger over her boy's name.

"Hogwarts wants you to change this."

"Excuse me?"

"Hogwarts. She wants you to save her children. All those that died, she wants you to save them."

"That's impossible. They're dead. You can't bring back the dead."

"No, but you can go back in time. There is much magic buried within these walls. She's become sentient over the past thousand years and the magic only grows, even with the battle's damage. She could send you back. She could send you to a time when you could fix it. You could destroy the one who would have this done to her children."

"Okay," she replied with a breath.

And later—much, much later—someone would someday ask what made her say okay. How long did it take her to say yes? The answer would be 'Fred' and 'no time at all' but that moment wasn't now. Right now, she didn't quite know what she just agreed to and yet she knew that Hogwarts' children included Fred and if all the children were saved, Fred would be saved too.

The ground rumbled and tore. People screamed as the castle started to crumble and rip. People ran out the doors and when Hogwarts was certain that everyone was out, everyone except the woman who would save her children, she exploded in gold and silver, bronze and grey light. Everyone who looked on to Hogwarts, had they been given a chance, would have never forgotten the awe inspiring sight of the dome of colors. But time was changing and so they would forget.

Molly stood in the middle of it all, blinded by the light coming in through the windows surrounding her. And she blacked out.

()()()()

"Molly. Mollywobbles! Time to wake up." Arthur's quiet voice whispered in her ear and she could hear the gentle smile on his lips even before she opened her eyes. His arm was draped over her side and he was behind her.

"Hmm," she replied. She always loved quiet mornings, just before the day began and she and her husband had a spare few minutes alone. She shifted to turn and face him and was faced with a perplexing stumbling block.

She immediately looked down to her expanded, pregnant, belly. "Oh, shit!"

"Mommy said shit!"

She turned to face a little boy in the doorway. It was Percy, at five year old, and his eyes were wide as if his mother just committed a cardinal sin.

"Molly, are you alright? It's not the baby, is it?" Arthur asked worriedly, putting a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"No, no. T-the baby's fine. Come here, Percy darling." She motioned for her middle son to come over and they boy complied. "Mummy just made a mistake saying that horrible word. You shouldn't repeat it."

Percy nodded solemnly. She knew he wouldn't. Now, if she said such a thing to the twins, well, that would just be asking for them to say it constantly for three days straight. She cuddled her responsible little boy and vowed to make sure he lightened up a little, made him see that the ministry wasn't the end all be all. That family was more important than anything.

When he first separated from them, after she got past her frustrations and anger, she wondered if he just felt a little too lost in their big family. She'd make sure this time that that wouldn't happen.

Ooh. She rubbed her belly. She forgot what a kicker Ginny was. Percy giggled. He felt the little kick too from where he was nestled next to her.

"She's strong, isn't she?" she asked her little boy.

"Silly mommy. Weasley's don't have girls!"

She dropped a kiss on her boy's head. "We'll see." They hadn't bothered finding out the sex of any of their children. She remembered resigning herself last time to the inevitability of having a seventh son. But seventh sons were lucky and she supposed it was the universe's way of not granting the possibility of the seventh of a seventh son in the Weasley clan.

She counted herself lucky. She got the girl she always wanted.

"Fred!" She hopped out of bed as quickly as her very pregnant belly allowed and scrambled to the twins' room. She sat between the two beds and stroked George's whole ear and turned to Fred. The little boy was all turned about in his covers, limbs each and every way, and she watched his chest rise and fall.

"Molly? Are you alright?" Arthur asked from the door, concerned with his wife's reactions this morning.

She nodded. "It was just a bad dream I had. A horrible, bad dream."

Arthur nodded, understanding. One couldn't help but have bad dreams in this time of war. You-Know-Who grew stronger every day.

"What's today's date?" Molly asked, looking up at him.

"July thirty-first."

It was Harry's birthday. Harry's first birthday, she mentally giggled. Oh, and he'd be with his parents right now. Maybe, just maybe, she could help keep them alive, too?

"Mommy!" Fred jumped out of bed and threw his arms around her. He never needed to wake slowly, always having energy from the second he woke up to when he crashed and went to bed.

And George joined in on her other side "Mommy!"

She grinned down at both of them, apparently her presence woke them. She looked up at Arthur and grinned at him. Percy was hugging his father's side.

"Well, the two of you can't just stand there!"

Arthur picked up his son and lifted him up like the boy was flying and crashed into the happy little circle, all of them hugging her.

Her boys, she smiled.

"What's going on?" Bill, all of eleven years old and with no scars from a werewolf or wedding ring on his finger, stood in the doorway. He was holding Ron who was seventeen months old and clutching his teddy.

"Family hug!" Arthur replied.

"Oye, Charlie!" Bill hollered. "Get up here!" And then he joined in the frivolity.

"Why are we doing this?" as he tickled George.

"Because you are my boys, all of you," Molly replied and reached a hand to pull her eldest's head over and placed a kiss on it. "I don't need any other reason than that."

"But then how are we going to have breakfast?" Charlie asked, rubbing a fist in his eye before bowling into his mum's legs.

()()()()

Molly relished that morning, not caring one whit the reason she came back. She knew that Arthur was worried as she fussed over her boys a little extra today, especially Fred, but he wasn't so worried that he called her on it.

Soon enough, he was off to work and she was left surrounded by six little boys who all wanted her attention, especially Ron who was clingy at this age.

She was reminded how much Bill had stepped up this summer the first time. There weren't terrible age gaps between any of her children, but the shorter age gaps were between Percy to Ginny, the shortest being between Ron and Ginny. Four children, soon to be five, were ages five and under. And so Bill, without too much pushing, took on the additional responsibility of watching out for his younger siblings, especially as Molly couldn't chase after the twins as things were.

And by the afternoon, with some well-rehearsed practice, she found herself with half an hour to herself. The twins and Ron were napping and Bill and Charlie were looking out for Percy. She sipped a cup of tea as she sat on the couch in the living room, pillows behind her back to relieve some pressure. It gave her a moment to think of what happened.

She time traveled.

She, Molly Weasley, time traveled.

Goodness.

She looked to the ceiling where she knew her children's rooms were and thought about the thousand or more lives that had been crossed off in the Hogwarts registry. Hogwarts' children. Fred was one of them. Having dropped out and never graduated, his name never turned gold. So his name was able to be crossed out.

Her hands shook and she had to put her cup of tea down before she spilled it. She took in a deep breath. Lord knows she'd do anything for her children. Anything. But how was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to do this? The only thing that crossed her mind was to defeat You-Know-Who. But she couldn't possibly do that, could she?

Harry could. Harry did.

She thought of the boy she considered a seventh son. How appropriate, her mind whispered. He was one years old, today. Merlin, only one. How could she dare to think of putting that back on his shoulders? She couldn't. But how did he defeat him anyway?

Horcruxes, her mind whispered.

She shivered at the remembrance of the foul things. She heard the story of them during the two weeks after the battle. What were they, again?

"Accio, quill. Accio, ink. Accio, parchment." The three things zoomed from the desk and into her hands. She rested the parchment on her belly and carefully inked the quill.

Riddle's Diary.

The most despicable of the lot, she remembered. It possessed her daughter and Harry killed it with a basilisk fang. Where was it? Oh, yes. Under the drawing room in the Malfoy's home. She wrote that down.

Slytherin's Locket.

She remembered that one because it was the one that Harry, Ron, and Hermione carried around without knowing how to destroy it. She remembered how her son had come home, distraught after having been influenced by it so much that he left the camp and couldn't find his friends again. That one, she recalled from their tale was with Kreacher, something about Sirius's brother. Her own son destroyed it, she was proud to learn.

Hufflepuff's Cup.

How could she forget how they hesitantly told them how they broke into Gringotts for that one? And survived! Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. She sneered while remembering the woman she killed, alive again. Well, who's to say she won't get the chance to do so again?

Slytherin's Ring.

The piece that would have killed Dumbledore had Snape not done the job. Where was it? The Gaunts'. Wherever that was. She'd have to look into it.

Ravenclaw's Diadem.

It was in that strange room that would give you whatever you wanted, in Hogwarts. It was the easiest one that anyone could get to.

Snake.

That snake that You-Know-Who loved and took everywhere with him.

Harry.

Not yet he wasn't. She remembered how he confessed to finding out he carried a piece of You-Know-Who's soul with him since that Halloween night. How horrible. But she could stop it. She could!

Three months stood between today and that night. She knew where the items were. All she had to do was get to them. Simple.

People always underestimated her anyway. But they should look at the children she raised: a curse breaker, a dragon tamer, a politician in the making, two entrepreneurs, a defeater of one You-Know-Who's horcruxes who bravely went into battle, and a young girl who wasn't quite finished with school but stood her ground in a school run by Death Eaters.

Who was she? She was their mother. They inherited it all from her. Stand down or die bitches.

Ooh, that kick hurt. She leaned back. She might have to wait until Ginny was born.