Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A Mother's Arms

By: ChoCedric

She tenderly strokes his bangs away from his face, cradling him as if he were a small child. By the look of him, he could be just sleeping, but Molly knows differently. She tried to run to him at the time it happened, but she was too late. With a moan of despair she had seen the green light hit him.

As she holds him and lovingly strokes his face, she reflects on how terribly young he seems at seventeen. She remembers him as an eleven-year-old, shyly asking her how he could get on to platform nine and three-quarters. She thought it was a blessing, but also a worry, when he became fast friends with her little Ronnie. She knew trouble would follow the boy, and she didn't want Ron getting involved. But at the same time, she was so happy that the two had found friendship. The youngster had seemed starved for love and affection, and he looked so neglected and skinny. She sent him fudge at Christmas, and hoped that he would not think she was just doing it out of pity.

Over the years she got to know him better, and she discovered what a charming, innocent young man he was, and how much of a big heart he had. She squeezes his cold, lifeless hand as she thinks back on all the times he had with her family. She remembers Ginny, running out of the room whenever she saw him; her feelings for him have never changed in all these years. She remembers Fred and George always getting a laugh out of him, and the sound of Harry's laughter was like music to her ears.

The world in which Harry grew up in is cold and cruel, Molly thinks sadly. He looked wise beyond his years, and was thrust into a whirlwind of chaos and confusion. He didn't have much time to be a child, for evil was always chasing him. You-Know-Who and his followers were always trying to finish him off, and as she looks into his quiet face, tears spill down her own, for they have finally succeeded.

The final battle took place just a few hours earlier, and Molly clings to her surrogate son, remembering the utter horror of it all. She recalls how the Death Eaters stormed onto the Hogwarts grounds, You-Know-Who leading them. Harry, her Ron, her Ginny, and Hermione, who's become like a daughter to her, plus Arthur and her other children were all there to fight. Harry looked so brave, so valiant, so like the martyr, the hero everyone expected him to be.

Harry and You-Know-Who then had the biggest and noblest fight of all. It lasted a while, both of them dodging spells back and forth, but after some time, it was plain to see that Harry was tiring. He was shaking and looked rather weak, while You-Know-Who wasn't even breaking a sweat.

Unfortunately, You-Know-Who noticed this as well. He cast a Disarming Charm that Harry, her brave almost-son, wasn't able to dodge. He stood, wandless, staring at his enemy, and then the most horrific thing happened. Molly, her family, and many Order members plus Albus Dumbledore were forced to watch as Harry was tortured for minutes on end. Cruciatus after Cruciatus reigned down upon him, but brave, young Harry never begged, never pleaded for You-Know-Who to stop. The poor boy, who'd known so much pain in his life, just lay there and took it. Molly tried, and so did all of her family, to run to his side, to take the curses that were being pummeled upon him, but You-Know-Who had erected some kind of barrier to stop them from getting anywhere near him.

Tears continue to stream down Molly's face as she holds her Harry close to her. She remembers that the moment when the torture finally ended, Harry was too weak to stand. He gazed at the school with nothing but an apologetic look on his face. That look of hopelessness broke Molly's heart; he knew what was coming and knew there was nothing he, or anyone, could do to stop it. But underneath all the pain and heartache, Molly could see slight relief on his face, relief that all the expectations and prophecies were ending, that he was finally going to go somewhere where nothing but peace was in store for him. Ron once told her that his greatest wish was to be with his parents again, and she knew that he was finally getting that wish. She clutched her family tight as the sickly, but yet relieving, green light struck Harry's heart, ending all his suffering.

Now Molly is just holding him, continuing to whisper to him and tenderly stroke his face. She knew in her heart that there was only one way that this could end, that he was way too young to be expected to defeat the darkest Lord in a century. The kind of power You-Know-Who has is unimaginable, and she thought Albus Dumbledore was cruel to expect that of him. His entire life was ruled by a prophecy, and she now knows that he is finally at peace, with no more of that weighing on his shoulders. All she can do now is whisper comforting words and hope that he is in Heaven, where he belongs.

You-Know-Who has threatened to come back in a few days and kill or imprison everyone who was close to Harry, and Molly is terrified for her family. She hopes, with a selfishness she cannot deny, that everyone she knows plus herself is simply killed, for she would rather die than be imprisoned and tortured. She knows Harry tried his best, and if anything awful does happen to her or her family, she knows she cannot blame him. This young boy was thrust into a world where he was told to do a task he simply wasn't powerful enough to do.

As she places a gentle kiss on the lightning-bolt scar that shaped his destiny, she knows that in Heaven, he is being embraced by Lily Evans-Potter, his real mother. She knows how proud Lily and James probably are of him, and she knows that he will be taken care of there. Both parts of Harry are in a mother's arms now; his shell on Earth, and his spirit in Heaven. She begins to sing a soft lullaby to him, letting her tears drip on to his honest and beautiful face. After she is finished, she places one more kiss on his forehead and says softly, "Sleep well, my Harry. I'll see you soon." And she knows in her heart that one day they will be reunited, her and her surrogate son.