The Battle of Hogwarts claimed many lives. The dead laid out in the Great Hall attested to that fact, not to mention those fallen during Voldemort's reign of terror. Human nature being as it was, people mourned and moved on, living life because they had to; otherwise the war was fought for nothing. Slowly life returned to normal, well, as normal as it could get, with many families missing members. Most of them tried their best to put the darkest days behind them, but as many found, there were wounds that did not heal quickly. St. Mungo's was working closely with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to figure out who got hit by what curse, and getting them proper treatment.

Molly Weasley was pensive as she puttered around her kitchen, trying to get everything in the right place. It was getting harder and harder to do her every day chores, though, and she knew she would have to see a Healer soon. She was forgetting where she left things, plates and cups were falling out of her hands, and she had lost a tremendous amount of weight. She could fit into her Hogwarts uniform again, which, as much as she enjoyed the thought, frightened her as well. She just didn't want to think of the possibilities. There is so much left to do, I really can't leave them, yet. She shook her head, it wasn't like her to let her darker thoughts take over, not even now. She heard a noise and looked up, startled. The loud tapping at the kitchen window was completely unexpected. She let the owl in, took the letter, and mechanically gave it some treats. She opened the letter, gasped and backed up, falling into the chair behind her.

Molly,

I couldn't allow the administration of either the hospital or the Ministry write this letter to you. You know we have been doing work to piece together what happened during the Battle at Hogwarts. We went through all your duels, and quite honestly, if I didn't have to be the bearer of bad news, I'd be recruiting you to be an instructor at the Auror Academy.

I don't know how to say it nicely, so I'm just going to say it. You were hit in the back by a wasting curse by Rabastan Lestrange.

I know you attributed the weight loss and exhaustion to your grief over Fred, but you need to get to St. Mungo's as soon as possible.

Kingsley