The first time it happened, she tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed.
“Harry dear, could you go on and let Fred and George know that dinner’s almost ready? I’ll shout myself hoarse trying to catch them up there,” Mrs. Weasley said, nodding up to the sky outside the kitchen where her boys were playing Quidditch with their younger brother and sister.
“Sure thing, Mum,” Harry replied from the cushy armchair. Molly misstepped as she turned to glance at him, knocking a knife off the counter and nearly impaling her foot.
The poor thing had turned so red that he really could be her son. He immediately started stammering.
“I- I’m sorry, M-Mrs. Weasley, s-so sorry,” he said.
Laughing, she tried to save the boy from his own embarrassment. “Sorry for what, dear? It’s not your fault— I’m the one who nearly needed a new foot!”
She bent down to pick up the knife, and when she straightened out again, Harry was gone. And if Molly Weasley’s smile was a bit brighter as she chopped up the peppers, no one was around to tell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The second time it happened, she brushed it off.
They were all sitting in the drawing room, Molly curled up next to Arthur on the couch and their children spread around the room in various spots. Harry and Hermione were visiting as well, playing a game of Exploding Snaps with Ron in the corner by the fireplace. Ginny, Fred, and Percy were participating in a lively discussion on the ethics of using dragons to guard the Gringotts vaults (though Molly privately surmised that Ginny and Fred were just trying to get a rise out of their brother). Meanwhile, George and Charlie, who was home for the winter holiday, were brushing up on some tips and tricks for using the Locking Charm on a person’s mouth.
“I mean, as long as there’s no lasting damage, I would assume it could work out just fine,” George explained.
“Sure, but how would you undo it? Alohomora’s only for doors and trunks, mate,” Charlie said. George looked puzzled by this, and Molly could only chuckle.
The evening began to wind down, and slowly, the children all headed upstairs for bed. Soon, only Harry, Ron, and Hermione were left playing their game, while Molly and Arthur dozed off on the couch.
“Go on Harry, it’s your turn!” Ron encouraged with a grin. Harry groaned. He knew they were due for an explosion soon, and he really did not want to deal with the mess.
Pulling the top two cards at the same time, he hesitated for a moment, and then threw them face-up on the floor. Immediately, the trio was surrounded in a cloud of white smoke as one of the cards exploded.
“Bloody hell!” Harry said. Molly roused herself at this.
“Language!” she said, startling the kids. Hermione smirked while the boys had the good sense to look ashamed.
“Sorry, Mum,” Harry replied. Ron’s and Hermione’s eyes shot up at him while he froze.
Yawning, Molly merely said, “It’s alright, dear.”
Harry dared to take a glance behind him; he saw Mrs. Weasley lean back into her husband’s embrace on the couch, settling back into a slumber. He couldn’t quite tell if she was reassuring his language choice or his slip-up. Either way, as the teen turned back to his friends, he missed the smile that played across Molly’s face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The third time it happened, her heart shattered.
“Please, please, no, don’t take him! Take me, take me, don’t take him! Please! No, no, NO!”
She heard the shouting before recognizing what was happening, and she was out of bed in an instant. Shuffling down the hall toward Harry’s room, the floor of Grimmauld Place seemed to be made of quicksand as she listened to the desperate yelling.
Finally pushing her way into the bedroom, Molly Weasley found its inhabitant still fast asleep, tossing and turning every which way. She could see his forehead glistening, and his skin was flushed.
“Harry! Harry, darling, it’s alright,” she said soothingly as she made her way to the bed. His night terrors were still new, but they’d been recurring since Sirius’s passing.
Pulling his covers back, she placed her hands on the teenager’s shoulders. His skin was warm, too warm to the touch for her liking. He was still thrashing, but the shouting had turned to quiet whimpers.
“Harry, please wake up, love,” she said. “Please come back to me. You’re alright, nothing is going to hurt you.”
Her words weren’t working as she’d hoped; rather, they seemed to have the opposite effect. Harry’s soft noises were growing louder again.
“Not him, not him, please. Please leave him alone! Please!” he said, fighting the grip she had on him.
“Harry! Sirius is alright, he’s okay now,” Molly said. It was the only thing she could think to say that would calm the boy. “He’s just fine, that’s it.”
These words, it seemed, broke through his dreams, and his eyes blinked open quite suddenly. He looked around wildly for a moment before remembering where he was. Molly watched as his eyes filled with tears, but he refused to let them fall.
“Oh darling,” she whispered to him. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Come here.”
She moved then, gently pushing him over a bit to sit back against his headboard. Though Harry was now a young man of almost seventeen, he could have easily passed for a twelve-year-old in that moment. She wrapped her arms around him, and he stiffened for a moment before allowing himself to indulge in the comfort of a mother’s embrace. Then came the tears.
“They almost got him,” he gasped into her shoulder. “They almost k-killed him, Mum.”
Later, Molly would swear she could physically feel her heart break in that moment. This young boy, who had never had a mother to run to when things got bad, was clinging so desperately to the closest replacement he could find. She found herself hugging him tighter until he fell asleep in her arms.
In the morning, when Arthur came to wake them up, he stopped in the doorway to admire the smile on his beautiful wife’s face as she slept contentedly with Harry wrapped up in her embrace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The fourth time it happened, she could have burst with pride.
Harry approached her cautiously, almost appearing nervous with his arm held out to her. “Could I have a word, Mrs. Weasley?”
“Of course, dear,” she said, taking the proffered arm and following him out to the pasture behind the Burrow. “What’s the matter? Are you alright?”
“Yes, more than alright, if not a little nervous,” he said, taking her hand in both of his own as they sat down on a small bench. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Molly smiled comfortingly, and Harry cleared his throat and went on. “Mrs. Weasley, you’ve been nothing but kind to me since the day I met you at King’s Cross. For no reason other than the good in your heart, you accepted me into your home with open arms. You’ve fed me, clothed me, kept on top of me when Hermione isn’t around, and most importantly, you’ve loved me like your son in the absence of my own parents.”
“Of course, darling,” she said, unsure of where he was going with this. “You aren’t… I mean to say, you aren’t having second thoughts, are you? Because love you though I may, if you break my daughter’s heart on today, of all days, I will hurt you in a way that leaves you wishing you were Splinched instead.”
Laughing, Harry shook his head and squeezed her hand. “No, of course not. Ginny is… well, she’s more than everything I could have ever wanted. Ginny is my happiness.” He paused, and Molly could see his eyes sparkling.
“No, that’s not it,” he continued, voice thicker than before. “I just wanted to ask your permission, in a way. I know over the years, I’ve had my share of slip-ups, and you’ve been so gracious about it every time. From the knife, to the cards, to the nightmares… Mrs. Weasley, you are the mother I never had the opportunity to know. Now that I am officially joining your family, I want your permission to refer to you as such.”
Molly found herself speechless.
“My boy,” she started, but couldn’t continue. It took a moment, but Harry was patient with her. Blinking furiously, she tried again. “Are you asking if you can call me ‘Mum’?”
Blushing, Harry nodded. Suddenly, he found himself enveloped in a bear-crushing hug.
“You are my son, Harry,” Molly whispered. “Legally or not. I’d be honored to be called your mum.”
Leaning back, Harry allowed a wide grin to cross his face. “Well then, I have one other favor to ask, Mum.”
Minutes later, no one could have missed Molly Weasley’s bright smile as she walked her son down the aisle.