Mother's Love

The untold story of Harry's heart, longing for a mother's love.

By, mywayornoway and a-full-metal-war (And this time, were not drunk...Yet)

A/n: We have decided to write this in first person which is so unlike us. Yet for this story we felt that it was necassary to get the feeling of Molly Weasley. We did not feel that second or third person would do it justice. We know another story from us just what you all dread. But this was an idea we just had to get down. We hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: We are too drunk to think of new people, so we are stealing them. Don't worry, we'll give them back... When we're good and ready!

Hamlet

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't.". - (Act II, Scene II)

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions". - (Act IV, Scene V).

A Midsummer Night's Dream

"Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind." (I, i, 234)

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Mrs. Weasly's POW

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I sit looking at the black haired boy sitting on the floor across the room from me. He is looking threw a box that Arthur found in one of the several empty rooms in this mansion. How could the poor boy deal with all the lose that he has had to face. The pain that he has had to face in his young life is more then anyone should be expected to face. How I wish that I could take it all away.

I just catch the loan tire that slids down from his eyes before he wipes it a way. He has more reason to grief then the rest of us. Yet he refuses to let any of us see him so much as frown. For some reason he acts as if he is not allowed to grieve. Suddenly he looks up from the box with a bunch of old pictures clutched in his hand. "Did you know them before... before all of this?" Harry asks me.

"Yes," I manage to reply with the sorrow evident in my voice. "I knew them during the first war."

"Could you tell me," Harry began trying hard not to let the sorrow show in his voice. "Could you tell me about them? About what they were like. This picture," here Harry held out one of the pictures that he is holding. "This picture seems so happy. They seem so happy. When was it taken? Please tell me about it."

I was not expecting this. Yet I could not deny Harry anything. He deserved to know about his parents. Yet this picture brought back so many memories. Most of them almost too painful to talk about. Yet, for Harry I would tell all of them. The picture which Harry showed me was of one of the few times the original Order had decided it would be advantages to have an Order picnic. Ironically it had been James and Sirius idea for the festive event. This was also the last picnic that the order would have. Harry's parents would die just a few days after it. With James and Lily gone it did not seem fitting that they have anymore picnics seeing how it had always been James and Sirius that had brought up the subject of a picnic. With one dead and the other thought to be the betrayer all the happiness was taken out of this event.

"In the picture we were having our last picnic," I start. "It was the last of the picnics that your dad and Sirius had decided was in order. It was a wonderful day. You and Ron were having such a good time playing together. Your dad, Sirius and Remus had started a game of tag with the older boys. For some reason your mum thought that it was getting a little to rough. When she told your dad so he just smirked and started to turn a way. Sirius told your mum that the boys were having fun and that they needed to have fun. Your mum was getting ready to turn a way when Remus came up to her and tagged her. Reluctantly your mum joined in."

Harry brightened at these words. It seemed that he was glad that to hear that his parents had at least had some fun. Even if this pictured represented some of the last few days that his parents had. He then handed me the next picture. This picture showed a little younger Lily who was smiling up at James with a newborn Harry in his arms. "Were you there when this was taken?" Harry asked me reflectively.

"Actually, I was the one that took it," I responded. "Albus had asked that Order members accompany your mother and Alice when they gave birth. Your dad felt that if we were there we might as well see you. So Remus and I came to see you. Remus and I were standing guard at that point. I was very touched by your dads insistence that I be allowed to be one of the first to see you. When he first came out I was sure that he only wanted Remus to come in but he insisted that I also come in. I was had a camera that I always carried with me so I took the picture. I do not even know why I carried that camera with me all the time but I did. I was sure that Sirius who was busy elsewhere that day would be upset that I had seen you before him but he wasn't."

I was glad that Harry had not put the pictures in order. We spent the better part of the day going over the pictures that Harry had found. He would show me a picture and I would tell him a story about the pictures. It was sad day yet one that Harry needed. After about fifty different stories I looked up and noticed that it was now midnight. I had been telling Harry stories for six hours and had not even noticed it. "Maybe we should get to bed," Harry muttered as he noticed the time.

"You still have more pictures," I muttered to him. "Don't you have more questions?"

"Yeah, but they can wait until later," Harry replied. "You need a break. Besides it is getting late." I was amazed at how Harry could always think about what others needed when he himself was hurting so much. I reached out to him and drew him into the longest hug that the two of us had ever shared. At first I felt him pull a way as if he was not ready for the comfort the hug offered but slowly Harry relaxed although I still felt the tension in him as though he did not want to totally relax and let his feelings out. I wondered then if Harry who I had grown to think of as my seventh son would ever accept me as a mother. Would he ever accept the love that I had to offer him?

As Harry left to go to his room I felt another rush of sympathy only a mother could feel. He tried so hard to protect everyone's feelings and never let anyone in on his. He kept so much inside afraid to let anyone know what he really felt. I wished more then I ever had that I could take the weight a way from him. I just hoped that come morning I could help him more, answer more of his questions.

The next morning however I had no time to devote to Harry as my other children all demanded my attention. None of them appeared to be aware of the conversation that Harry and I had had the night before. They all were so young, so cute, so innocent... as much as a Weasley can be. If only Harry was one of mine. If only Harry could join in on the care free innocents of the other children. If only...

Fred and George as always were joking around making Ron and Ginny giggle uncontrollable at the table, while Bill looked on trying to seem to disapprove. I say trying because he had a big grin on his face. I was busy making breakfast for the lot of them. As I was turning to send the bacon to the table I noticed Harry at the door. He was looking at the scene of most of my children with keen interest. As he was looking on Charlie walked past him giving Harry a pat on the back. "You going to stand there all day?" Charlie asked with a smile. "Come on and eat. You know how mum gets when her cooking goes to waste."

"No this should be a family time for you guys," Harry whispered turning to leave. I could tell by the looking in his eyes that he really wanted to join in the fun but was reluctant to do so.

I walked over to him with a smile and drew him close to me and muttered, "You are a part of the family. You are just as much a son to me as Ron is. Family is people who care about you, even if they are not related to you. We are your family." As I said this words it felt Harry's tears running down his checks and settling on my shoulders. This is what it was like to be a family. this is what was taken from Harry fourteen years ago, then again not even a month ago. This was what we were all fighting for. A simple thing called family. Yes, we knew the cost. None of us more then the boy that I held in my arms. The boy who had lost his family and had searched for fourteen years for another family. To ashamed and embarrassed to accept my family as his own. I just hoped it wasn't to late. The only way we were going to win this war was with love.

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