Chapter 1
Molly woke up slowly and without pain. Physical pain, that was, which immediately struck her as odd. She distinctly remembered gaining a few bruises. The events of the previous day came to her slowly. Fred, her son, gone forever. When was the last time Molly had told him she loved him? Did he know she meant it? Sniffling a little, Molly pushed herself up and gathered her strength. She still had six children— her heart ached at the number— who needed her to be around for them. Looking around, she took a deep breath. Her and Arthur’s room at the Burrow was as cluttered as always. She put her feet on the floor and paused.
It was just that, the Burrow had burned. And furthermore, she distinctly remembered falling asleep at Hogwarts, in the Gryffindor Tower. The battle had just ended, and her grief had burned her energy until there was nothing left. Her children had stayed behind to do repairs, but Bill had insisted she go to bed and sleep. She had with little protest.
Molly turned around. Sleeping peacefully beside her was her husband of many years. Arthur had always slept like a rock, but he hadn’t looked so young in a very long time. His hair was orange again, opposed to the snowy white it had been becoming. The wrinkles on his face had lessened, and he was missing some freckles.
Quickly, she rushed to her bathroom. Facing her in the mirror was a younger version of herself. Her hair was red again, her wrinkles were lessened, just like Arthur’s. Molly inhaled sharply. Her first thought was of her children. She barely stopped to throw on a robe before she was out her bedroom door, through the kitchen and up the stairs. She peered in the first room, Ginny’s. Inside was a little baby girl, around five years old.
Fred. She thought, and raced up the stairs, not even bothering to look in Ron’s room. To her surprise, someone had beat her there.
“Bill?”
“Mum.” He was crying. “Mum he’s alive.”
Molly wasted no more time, and pushed open the door to the twins room. The two eight year olds were sleeping soundly. Just like their father, she thought with an aching fondness. They had switched beds again, Freddie was sleeping in Georgie’s, and vise versa. At the sight of her little boy, Molly broke out into full on sobs. Bill quickly pulled her from the room, and shut the door behind them. He was sixteen again, but still so tall. His arms easily wrapped themselves around her, and they took a minute to cry together.
“I thought it was a bad dream.” Bill said weepily. “It wasn’t though, was it? I was a father. And Fred…”
Charlie found them like that, and immediately pushed past to check in on Fred. He woke them up, and there was more crying inside. Molly listened to their muffled voices through the door, and wondered who else remembered. Was it just Bill, Charlie and her?
Suddenly, from down the hall, Ginny began screaming. Breaking off from Bill’s hug, Molly went to comfort her. Time travel or not, there was a thousand things to be done around this house, and comforting screaming children was a familiar task. Molly walked into Ginny’s room again, and rushed to her crib.
“Why am I little?” Ginny cried upon seeing her.
“Hush, love, hush. It’s alright.” Molly instinctively propped Ginny up on her hip, and bounced her until she calmed. “It looks like we’ve been sent to the past a bit. It’ll all be okay.”
Ginny just cried into her shoulder.
“I’ve got Ronnie.” Arthur said from the door, wide-eyed and pale. She nodded at him gratefully. The door to Ron’s room opened and shut again. Moments later, high pitched screaming started up. Molly just kept rocking her girl, and waited for the crying to calm down. She trusted that Bill and Charlie wouldn’t leave the twin’s sides for a while. One of them would likely go check in on Percy too. Everyone was safe and sound, and all would be well.
It took a full hour for everyone to calm down. Molly, ever one for routines, started about making breakfast. The rest of the family except for Percy sat about the breakfast table numbly. Fred had yet to have a moment alone. George had even gone as far as to try and follow him into the bathroom. Arthur had put a stop to that, but he couldn’t stop him from waiting right outside the door, determined not to leave his side for even a second.
Breakfast was served, and no one ate.
Finally, Ron spoke up. It was startling to hear him talk in the voice of a six year old child, especially after knowing how tall he would grow up to be. It was even more startling to hear the contents of his speech.
“You-Know-Who is immortal.” He said.
Arthur, who had braved taking a sip of his morning tea, spat it out back into his cup and started coughing. Molly felt her heart drop to her stomach.
“And just how do you know that, young man?” Molly found herself scolding, utterly stressed out.
“Voldemort has seven Horcruxes. Well, eight, I think.”
“Excuse me?” Arthur spluttered. “A horcrux? Those are myth! They aren’t real, they can’t be.”
“Hey, what’s a horcrux?” Bill cut in. “For the people in the room who aren’t up to date on these things.”
“A horcrux is the worst type of magic. Soul magic.” He said, regarding his tea with some disgust. Molly got up to change it out. “Thank you love. Where was I?”
Molly listened to the explanation while working to make tea in the kitchen. It was horrifying, and she almost wished she hadn’t. By the time she arrived back in the dining room, her children— her young children— had pale faces, and still weren’t eating their breakfast. Molly sat down and pointedly started cutting up her sausages. As usual, the family followed suit.
“Arthur do you have work today?” She asked, changing the subject.
“Tempus. It appears I don’t.” He said. “It’s the summer solstace today, did you know? June 21st, 1986.”
The confirmation was terrifying.
“We could change so much.” Bill said quietly.
They all sat in silence for a moment, contemplating that. Molly tried not to think about her brothers, and how hopless the wars were against an imortal man. She tried not to think about what she could have done if she’d gone back just seven years more.
“Right.” Charlie said loudly and decisively. “Someone should check in on Percy. I’m sure he’s freaking out right about now.”
“He’s never been this late to breakfast before.” Fred said, finally speaking up.
“Probably he’s just sitting up in his room trying to figure out what’s going on. I’ll go check on him.” Charlie turned to go.
“Maybe we should give him space,” Molly worried, “he likes his privacy.”
Charlie hesitated. “I’ll give him an hour. If he’s not down in an hour, I’ll break into his room.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Arthur assured him. “I’m sure he’s just up there organizing everything and sorting out his thoughts. He’ll be down soon, just you wait and see.”