Work Text:
Harry Potter hovered outside the door awkwardly. It was absurd. In nine years of knowing the Weasleys, he had never felt uncomfortable appearing at the Borrow, even in the weeks after he started officially dating the daughter and was earning glares at every juncture from her brothers. Just as he was about to knock, it flew open.
“Harry!” Molly Weasley smiled brightly. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“Sorry, Ms. Weasley. I just wanted a quick word.”
“Molly, dear. We’ve talked about this. Of course, come in dear.” She turned widely to allow him in. “Cup of tea.”
“Uh, sure.”
The Borrow was still a testament to organized chaos, even with all of the children grown. The family joke was that Molly was still sorting through the muck that had accumulated from seven children and thirty years of raising them. Harry wondered if it was more likely acquired from the four months that the chief housekeeper was unable to leave her room, but he didn’t dare suggest that.
Despite the heartbreak of the last two years, Molly Weasley’s disposition finally seemed to be looking up. Weekly family lunches, frequent visits from Harry’s toddler godson, and the impending arrival of a first granddaughter all seemed to be lifting the mood considerably. There was still a gaping hole when the family gathered around the table, but they had long since forced themselves to look past it. Molly, as well as the rest of their extended group had turned towards counting her blessings instead of her losses.
“How’s Fleur doing?” He asked amicably as he found a seat at the table. The old wooden surface had the marks of time and seven rambunctious kids. It’s length practically made it fit for the Great Hall, but just barely fit all of the Weasleys and their automatic extensions.
“She’s about ready to burst, I’ll say.” Molly bustled around the kitchen with as much gusto as she had in the summer before his second year. “Bill seems to be going out of his mind, especially since Fleur’s mother’s in from France. I’ve been trying to keep my distance. Didn’t want to be hovering, but I will admit it's rather difficult. How’s Teddy?”
Harry grinned fondly. “He’s wonderful. Since I’ve gotten more settled at work I’ve been able to take him a bit more. To a few of Ginny’s games and around London on the weekends.”
“Has he had any more bad full moons?” Molly asked sympathetically.
His face darkened. “Not as bad as that first one, but they’re definitely getting worse. Or maybe not and it's just more noticeable now that he’s older. I don’t know...Andy’s starting to get a bit more concerned, but I’m trying not to worry about it.”
“Well, once he’s older he can talk to Bill about it. Probably closer to what he’s experienced than full werewolves.”
Harry nodded, accepting Molly’s offer of a sconce and jam. Once the pair had their tea, she settled down across the table from him.
“Now, Harry, is what you want to talk to me about something best heard with Arthus present as well?” She asked with a knowing look in her eye.
He looked confused for a moment as her words sunk into him. His face turned beet red. “Oh no, no, Mrs. Weasley. We’re not...Ginny and I have talked about it, that’s not going to be on the table for a while.” He swore her face fell but ignored it and plowed on. “Actually, this is something I wanted to talk to you about. You know that I’ve been restoring Grimmauld Place? Cleaning it and clearing it out and everything?”
“Yes, I heard you finally managed to get that dratted painting off the wall. I hope you burned it.”
He laughed. “That was more Kreacher’s work than mine, but yeah. That was well disposed of. Kreacher’s been a big help. We’ve managed to make it almost livable finally.”
“Is that your plan?” Molly asked, surveying him carefully. “To live there?” He could almost hear her thoughts. Not with my daughter I hope.
“Well, not exactly.” He bit his lip. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so nervous. “I’ve been looking through my finances. I’ve got plenty from the Potter vault to last me a lifetime, especially with my auror salary, so I’ve been thinking about what to do with what I inherited from Sirius. I’m thinking I’m going to set aside some for Teddy since he should be entitled to some of the Black portion and I’m sure Sirius would have wanted him to have it. I don’t think Remus and Tonks would have wanted him to grow up like that, but I’ll put it in a trust for emergencies.
“I’ve spoken to Draco because he’s legally entitled to some as a Black heir, but he’s as hesitant as I am. He’s got more than he needs as well with the Malfoy inheritance and Narcissa doesn’t want to touch it. She’s quite happy with what she squirreled away over the years.” Harry smiled vaguely. “So I’m left with most of the Black Family Fortune not to mention at least four estates in addition to Grimmauld Place. I’m going to donate quite a bit to some charities that I’m sure Orion and Walburga Black would have despised so that’ll surely honor Sirius’ memory.” They shared a fond laugh. “But I wanted to do something particularly meaningful, so--”
“Harry, please.” Molly interrupted. “Arthur and I appreciate the offer, but we’ve already accepted more than enough financial help from our children than we are comfortable with. I know you are just being sweet, but--”
“Actually, Molly.” Harry said awkwardly. “That’s not what I was going to say. I want to open a summer home for Hogwarts students who don’t have good home lives. And I want your help.”
Molly blinked at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. “Oh, Harry...I’m not sure I’m the person you want for this.”
“That’s the thing, you’re the perfect person. You’ve practically run a home already with all your kids and their friends. You accepted me into your home every summer for six years and Hermione at least half of that. I bet there are more kids like me and Sirius who maybe don’t have a home away from home like we did. They just need to know that they’ll have somewhere safe to stay in the summer. I’ll fund it completely. It won’t even be my money, it’ll be the Blacks. I haven't checked out the other Black estates to see if they’re viable, but Grimmauld Place is in a good location in London and Hermione has said it’s extending charm can easily be modified to add more space if we need it. Kreacher should be able to handle most of the cooking and cleaning and hopefully the kids we get will want to be there.” He grinned. “What do you say?”
To say Molly was a bit stunned would be an unstatement. It all sounded quite absurd. She won’t pretend she didn’t miss having children underfoot. Despite the money stresses, before school shopping at Diagon Alley with seven children was alway an adventure for the ages. While she appreciated the quiet through the year, her favorite day of the year was always the day she collected her children from the train in June.
There had been talk when the oldest boys were very little, in the brief break between Percy and the twins and just before Arthur’s invaluable promotion, of her going back to work. She was certainly trained as a magical primary school tutor from doing it seven times over. (Arthur had wanted to send Bill to a muggle school. All of those dreams ended on the day they met his nursery school teacher and baby Charlie sneezed fire.) Hypothetically, she would have tried to find a pureblood family who didn’t have the time or patience to teach their child and then tried to convince them to bring her own kids to the lessons. It had been a pipe dream which had soon become unnecessary and utterly impossible when she suddenly became a mother of five.
The last few years she had less motherly responsibilities but those immediately were replaced were equally as time consuming but far more dangerous ventures. Since the battle...she hadn’t really had the mind to do anything but the bare minimum. In a futile bid to occupy herself she had tried to join Poppy Pomfrey’s extensive operation to place war orphans in the months after the war but that had proven to be a bit too chaotic for her at that moment. Fleur’s pregnancy had been a welcome distraction, to be directly involved in her child’s life once more. But she supposed...she could do more. She wanted to do more.
“I think...I think it's a wonderful idea Harry.” She said warmly. “I want to help in any way I can.”
He brightened considerably.
Her seventh son had always been lean, far too skinny for her liking, but in the months he was on the run he had become nearly sickly slim. Ron and Hermione, too, but theirs was less obvious. She had wondered on numerous occasions how many meals he had skipped in order to assure that his friends had more in their bellies.
The last two years hadn’t been wonderful, for any of them, but Molly could see a marked improvement in him. Finally his height and weight were in suitable proportions. The bags under his eyes were still a constant presence, but they seemed less aggressive. He still checked the exits in every room he was in, but honestly she had yet to drop the habit either.
Molly still worried about him, as she did all her children. She could barely watch Ginny’s games, although she always forced herself to, because all she could think about was her youngest child falling to her death. As proud as she was of Ron’s success in the Auror Department, the only thing that kept her sane was that she knew he and Harry were watching each other’s back. When she finally managed to come to terms with Fred, her every thought became consumed with his twin; George was struggling, but she was assured that he had friends surrounding him. Percy’s guilt and self-hatred were enough to consume him and his newly emerging Weasley temper was causing him trouble at work. Don’t get her started on Charlie. She hadn’t taken a deep breath since he left for Romania to work with dragons of all things. She thanked Merlin tha Bill had given up Egyptian curse breaking for a marriage and burgeoning family.
Harry was just another of her children. Molly loved him no more or less than any of her others, she just knew he needed a different type of mothering. She knew Ron had resented her affection towards his best friend when they were young, and she kicked herself for not noticing it. Those years they were in Hogwarts...she was unused to those kinds of terrors. And Harry didn’t have a mother or father to worry about him. She had to become both for him, regardless of the consequences.
“Really? You’ll do it.” Harry said eagerly.
She smiled affectionately. “Of course. So what do you plan to call this place?”
He blushed. “I was...I was thinking about the Sirius Black Home, but then I thought that might not get the best reaction.”
Molly chuckled. “Probably not.”
“So then I thought about it more, and…” He coughed, his redness deeping. “What about the Cupboard Under the Stairs?”
Molly blinked, a random story Ron once told reappearing in her mind. At the time she thought he was exaggerating, just like she thought Fred and George had with the story of the bars on Harry’s window. But maybe he wasn’t, or maybe Ron hadn’t even known the whole story.
“I think it's lovely.”
And so the Cupboard Under the Stairs Home for Lost Children was born. Minister Shacklebolt got the papers pushed through that made it an official extension of Hogwarts and was entitled to special privileges under the law. Molly got quite the team together to run it. Both living (and not mad) Black sisters joined in honor of their neglected cousins. Augusta Longbottom was eventually roped in. Amos Diggory found solace from his son’s death in helping other students thrive. The house elves of Hogwarts each took one day a week to volunteer with Kreacher.
It worked. Students like Tom Riddle and Sirius Black and Harry Potter who had no home to return to found one in the CUSH (the nickname was vigorously panned by George and Ron).
There were no children left behind.