Molly Weasley ran up the stairs of the Burrow to the nearest free bathroom and vomited up her breakfast. That was her first warning of her seventh child. Wiping her mouth clean of bile, Molly walked carefully down the stairs again, where Ronald was crying already, deprived of attention for only moments as he was.

No one could no about this child. Molly already knew that. With Voldemort about, people needed a hero. And what better hero than the seventh son of a seventh son? And not just that, the seventh generation of seventh sons. The Weasley family had been waiting for just such a child from Molly ever since she married Arthur. She could not risk any of her children, so there was never any question for her.

When Arthur arrived home from work, she was already gone, leaving baby Ronald absolutely screaming for attention. Arthur didn't have to search far for a note. There it was, in Ronald's crib. Molly's aunt was violently ill, and she only wanted Molly. Molly had arranged for a babysitter, but they couldn't start till the next day.

Molly staid away for a year. She sent birthday presents to her children, which all arrived right on time, and Christmas presents. She gave birth to a beautiful daughter, but instead of relieving her worries, the daughter only increased them.

The first girl born into the Weasley family for over ten generations. The first born daughter of a first born daughter spanning all of Molly's own history, and the seventh child of a seventh child. She didn't need to be a son to be special.

Ginevra Weasley was born the impossible child. The one that could never have come, but finally did. Molly looked after Ginevra Weasley for the first few months of her life, before she knew she had to go back to the Burrow.

Molly made a snap decision. She was in a muggle community, and there was no way she could risk going to a wizards community. There were some she would trust to raise her child, but with Voldemort being about, as he was, no one could be trusted. Shut away from all wizarding news for a year, she had not heard of his downfall, else she would never have entrusted her only daughter to a muggle orphanage.

Coming home to the Burrow, Molly was already too late to reclaim her daughter, though she attempted to the moment she heard the news. She told no one. How could she? She had left a Weasley child in the grip of muggles.

Molly was beside herself with grief. She told everyone that her aunt had died, finally, after a year long struggle, and that it had been heartbreaking to watch it, and everyone tried to cheer her up, but no one knew her true woe.