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Molly remembered the first time she met Severus Snape.

It had been a gray February night, the wind whipping violently against the windowsills. She was in the kitchen, the boys all tucked in bed, and had been cooking a batch of chocolate chip cookies because the war left her stressed and tired. She had figured she could bring them to the next Order meeting.

At some point, a knock on the door had pulled her from the oven, and she walked over, pulling it open to reveal – a child, really. He looked tired, face gaunt and eyes haunted. He eyed her warily and held out a vial of what looked to be his memories.

“Oh!” Molly said in surprise, and the teenager cut her off.

“Dumbledore sent me. Said you’ll be the relay for tonight. There are my memories, please be sure to get them to Dumbledore.”

“I…yes,” Molly agreed, taking the vial. The awfully pale teenager glanced behind him, and the wind swept across his face, cutting into his thin robes. He shifted and grimaced, seeming to favor a leg.

“Then goodnight,” the teenager said, voice curt. Molly impulsively reached out to grab his shoulder, and the boy jerked back.

“Wait here,” Molly said, her hand awkwardly hovering in the spot where the boy's shoulder would have been. She turned around and hurried to the kitchen. She grabbed a napkin and summoned a few cookies from the freshly baked batch. She carried them back to the doorway, where the boy remained.

He stared at her with distrust, shoulders tense and fingers twitching in preparation to grab his wand. He could hardly be older than twenty, and it hurt to see someone so young already so defensive and unsure. That was the war, she thought, and cursed it for it should not be the youth’s burden to carry.

“Here you go. Just made them,” Molly said, handing the boy the cookies. The boy blinked, mouth twisting in surprise.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, and he sounded taken aback. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Get yourself home safe, okay?” Molly told him gently, and the boy nodded briefly, before turning and disappearing into the cold February air.

Molly only saw him a few more times as the first war dragged on. She never asked his name, knowing that anonymity meant safety for certain individuals. She never saw him at Order meetings, yet she figured he must be their spy.

She struggled to think of that skinny boy tricking the Dark Lord, and she practically sighed in relief every time he would show up on her doorstep alive and relatively unhurt to drop off his memories. He never came in, always stared at her with distrust, but she always made sure to have some sweets at hand.

He would take them, mutter a surprised thank you as if he never expected it, and she would offer a kind smile which he never returned, and then he would disappear back into the night.

She started to grow fond of him, this poor boy, and invited him in one night. He had frozen, his face growing hard, and said something about it being a bad idea. He relented after Molly asked him again, and they sat on the couch, cradling cups of tea. He didn’t say much, only short statements which revealed nothing, but she talked to him about her children and their recent trip to the beach.

He thanked her at the end of it, and Molly couldn’t resist the urge to pull him into a loose hug.

“No, thank you. I can’t imagine how hard it must be but please know we all appreciate it and think you’re remarkably brave for doing so. We’ll see an end to this war because of you, so thank you,” she had whispered, and the boy, who never ever relaxed, who treated every situation as one full of dangers and threats, leaned into her.

Then he pulled away, and in a flash of black robes, left quickly, and Molly didn’t see him again until after that terrible night in October.

+++

“Severus Snape,” she said, testing the name out, and Arthur had glanced up at her from the opposite end of the table, cereal spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Huh?” he had asked and then turned to quiet one of the twins who had started to tease their youngest son.

“Our spy. Severus Snape,” Molly clarified, glancing through the Daily Prophet and the article about Igor Karakaroff and his naming of Death Eaters.

Arthur nodded and turned to fix a toy Charlie had just broken. “Suppose so. Is he-?” He gestured to the newspapers, and Molly read through them.

“No, thank god. Albus got him out. Looks like he’ll become the new Potions Master at Hogwarts,” she said, sighing in relief. Imaging that gaunt boy locked in Azkaban pained her; Sirius Black was already bad enough.

“Oh, looks like he’ll be teaching our children, then?” Arthur said, and Molly smiled.

“Looks like it,” she responded, thinking of the pale, skinny boy and wondering if they would cross paths again.

+++

She truly hadn’t expected him to come into her life as he had. Not with Minerva storming in one night, hands gesturing angrily and hair awry.

“You must help me, Molly,” Minerva had said curtly, pushing Percy aside. Molly ruffled his hair and told him to go play with his brothers. “It’s Severus Snape. He…he was our spy, I don’t know if you ever met him during the war.”

“I did,” Molly said, brewing a cup of tea. “Albus had him bring his memories here every so often. What about him?”

“He’s…I’m at my wit's end. I don’t what to do. He won’t listen to me, and it’s…”

Molly handed her the cup of tea and Minerva took it gratefully. She looked at her tiredly and sighed.

“I don’t want to presume, Molly,” Minerva said, voice growing quiet. “I remember that…Gideon had ah, a drug habit.” Molly froze at the words but kept the soft smile on her face.

“He did,” she said, taking a sip of tea.

“Yes, and that you helped him,” Minerva trailed off, waiting for confirmation. Molly nodded, mind flickering back on her brother as her heart ached with his absence. “Severus, he’s also developed a…a drug habit. And it’s, I’ve tried to help but he won’t listen. So I thought…”

Minerva gazed earnestly at her, and Molly thought of the skinny boy and her heart clenched. The post-war years would have been difficult for him. Especially if all he had known was war.

“Do you think I’ll be any better?” Molly asked, tilting her head. She didn’t really know Severus, and what had happened with Gideon had been ugly on both their parts.

Minerva nodded. “He…I believe he needs someone like you.”

“Like me?”

“You’ve raised seven children,” Minerva said flatly, and Molly couldn’t disagree with that.

          +++

Severus hadn’t lost his skinny, nearly malnourished frame, and he stared at Molly with outright contempt. He still looked unbearably young, despite being about twenty-five, but his eyes looked like they carried the weight of many lives.

“Minerva set you up for this,” he growled, and Molly nodded. She sensed that lies wouldn’t get her anywhere with him. “I’m fine,” he hissed, walking behind his desk. He sat down and began to mark papers as if the conversation had ended.

He seemed more confident, Molly thought. Or maybe he figured he had already survived the worst.

She sat at the table in front of him and waited a while. She cataloged her grocery list and thought of what Charlie would need for school and what to do about the twins, and finally, Severus glanced up at her and scowled.

“I’m not someone who needs to be saved,” he sneered, and the hatred dragged like needles across her skin, but she felt it wasn’t completely directed at her.

“I’m not here to save you, dear,” Molly said, and Severus had blinked, scowl breaking for a moment.

“Then what are you here for?” he asked, knuckles white as he gripped his quill.

“I brought chocolate chip cookies,” Molly said with soft smile, pulling out the container from her robe and placing it in front of Severus. Severus stared at them as if they were a violation, and he inhaled heavily, mask fracturing for the briefest of seconds.

“Thank you. Now please leave,” Severus dismissed, regaining his composure. Molly nodded and left, taking a long walk around Hogwarts as she thought.

+++

She started to send him baked goods regularly. They varied, often whatever struck her fancy, but she would always send Errol off with a tin of cookies or brownies or tarts and a short note.

He responded each time, but the notes never ranged beyond two short sentences – a formal thanks and how they had tasted fine.

Fine. She had laughed at that. Her baking was fine to Severus Snape, and while from anyone else, it would seem insulting, she didn’t think many things were fine for Severus.

Minerva had shown up a few more times frantic and exasperated. She described how she had found Severus stumbling nearly out of his mind on the third-floor corridor. How she had tried to check on him one night and found him clinging to the toilet and violently vomiting. How he regarded any attempt to address it as an insult.

Molly had listened sympathetically, letting Minerva destress. Minerva has asked her if she had gotten through to him, and she had shrugged. “I’m building trust now”, she explained. “If he doesn’t trust me, it doesn’t matter what I say or do.”

“That boy doesn’t trust anyone,” Minerva had responded, and Molly had shrugged again, holding her cup of tea close to her chest.

+++

After a few months of pestering Severus with her baked goods, she decided to visit him again. She got his schedule from Minerva and after his last class, had slipped into his classroom.

He had looked up in irritation, scowling when he realized it was her. Molly smiled and plopped a cake on his desk.

Severus stared at it warily, and Molly thought of how tired he looked. And how tense. It still looked like he didn’t know how to relax. Or maybe he still felt like he couldn’t.

“I hope you like carrot. I know it’s not everyone’s fancy, but it is rather good if I do say so myself.”

“Carrot is fine,” Severus muttered, and he marked the paper in front of him, the movements tight and controlled.

“It’s beautiful outside,” Molly noted, and Severus gave a tight shrug of his shoulders. “Any interest for going on a walk?” she asked lightly.

“I have work,” Severus excused coldly, eyes burning holes in the paper.

“Take a break?” Molly offered, and Severus shook his head, still not looking at her. She didn’t let it deter her. “Very well. I’m expecting you for dinner tomorrow night if that’s all right. Nope, no arguing. You know where I live, so come around at 6:30, dear?”

Severus glowered at her but didn’t say anything. Molly figured it could go either way, offering a smile, before leaving.

Severus Snape didn’t come. She ate dinner with Arthur and the children, ignoring the extra setting. She settled on the couch and read for a while until it grew late.

Arthur asked if she was coming to bed, and Molly shook her head. Instead, she grabbed her robe and apparated to Hogsmede.

She entered Hogwarts and strolled along the hallways for a while until it grew very late. Then she headed down to the dungeons and the painting that guarded Severus’s quarters. She asked the painting to alert him if he was still awake.

The door opened a few minutes later, and Severus Snape stared at her. However, he no longer looked like the reserved and controlled Potion’s Master, a formidable force and skilled professor.

No, he looked drunk and drugged and lips were slightly swollen as if he had been kissing someone and stared at her with weary eyes. He also wore Muggle clothes – a black t-shirt and tight black jeans.

“Whad, whadd you doin’ here?” he slurred, using the door frame to support himself. He lost focus for a moment, eyes growing bleary, and almost fell forward. Molly reached out to support him and he yanked away as if her touch had burned him.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Molly said softly. Severus took a long moment to process and stared at her, eyes hazy. He worked his mouth and frowned.

“Oh,” he said softly, squeezing his eyes shut. He opened them and his head lolled slightly. “M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“Come to dinner tomorrow, okay dear?” Molly said, keeping her voice as soft and gentle as possible. Severus huffed out a laugh and a tense moment passed where he looked like he was going to heave.

“You donna don’,” he mumbled, eyes falling shut as he leaned forward. Molly didn’t try to help him this time, and he managed to steady himself. “Don’ wan’ me,” he finished, a flicker of pain crossing his face. Then he exhaled shakily and laughed, the sound high and unpleasant.

“Yes, I do, Severus, I’d love to have you,” Molly assured, and then Severus opened his eyes and stared at her hard. There was something cruel and dismissive in his eyes as if she proven to be something expected and terrible.

“Are-are you tryn’ to fuck me?” he said, the sound harsh. His lips curled and he looked at her with disgust. Molly shook her head and laughed.

“Oh, dear. I’m happily married with seven children. Fucking you is the last thing on my mind,” she said with a smile, but Severus continued to stare hard at her. “All I want is dinner, okay love? 6:30 tomorrow?”

Severus didn’t say anything, but Molly figured enough had been said, so she wished him goodnight and left.

She curled up against Arthur when she got back, and he asked if everything was okay, and she found she couldn’t reply – not yet.  

+++

He came the next night. Dinner was a tense affair. The children ate quickly and left just as fast. Arthur didn’t know what to make of him, but Molly kept the conversation light, asking him about teaching and the students and Bill and Charlie.

She practically had to drag the conversation out of him but invited him back next week, if he was so inclined.

Arthur asked her about him later that night, and Molly explained that Minerva thought he needed someone like her and that she had yet to see differently.

“A mother?” Arthur had asked, yawning, and Molly thought for a long time in bed before deciding that may just be it.

+++

He came the following week, all scowls and bitter comments. She had told the children to scatter early, and they did, so it was just him and Arthur and her, and while it wasn’t pleasant, it wasn’t bad.

She even got him to describe some of his research, his tone exact and intelligent, and Molly did her best to follow around even though she had always done terribly in Potions.

+++

Their weekly dinners turned into a routine, and Molly noticed that Severus had gradually, if almost excruciating slowly, opened up. He talked more about classes and his colleagues and would reverently describe potions he was working on. He was sharply intelligent, his humor dry and initially off-putting, even though Molly had now developed a healthy appreciation for it.

However, he still skirted from her touch, and Molly wasn’t about to press that issue.

He also never talked about the war or his childhood or his drug habit, and Molly never asked. Those would come with time, and for now, she would give him a place where he could feel safe.

+++

That fall, when the leaves started to gain their first fiery touches, she and Severus went for a walk after dinner.

They walked in silence for a while, until Molly thought it was finally time to talk to him.

“I had a brother once,” Molly said, swallowing hard at the upsurge of grief. Severus tensed beside her. “Gideon. He was in the Order but I don’t suppose you would have met him.”

“I didn’t,” Severus said, voice tight and on edge. Molly wondered if he had been involved in his death, and she hoped he hadn’t.

“Yes, well,” Molly said, laughing as she thought at his brashness. “I don’t think you would have liked him very much. Too much of a Gryffindor.”

Severus let out a derisive sound, and Molly laughed again.

“He was a wonderful brother. A wonderful man.” She steadied herself for the next part. “He learned to brew the Euphoria Elixir at fifteen. When that was no longer enough, he started with Alihosty. He was a wonderful man, but he…I watched him lose his way. Watched him as the drugs took far too much from him. It hurt greatly to see,” she said, not looking at Severus. Her voice cracked at the end of it, and the back of her throat ached. “I…I don’t want to see the same happen to you, my dear. And I…”

“Molly,” Severus said, his voice controlled. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

They walked in silence for a few long beats.

“I know,” she said slowly, “but I want to, Severus.”

A gust of wind blew some leaves around them, and Molly shivered.

“Why?” Severus asked quietly. He said the word with difficulty and clenched his hands. Molly glanced over at him, but he kept his gaze firmly on the path in front of them.

“Because I care for you, dear.”

Severus scowled and remained silent for the rest of the walk.

+++

Molly wasn’t sure if anything would come out of her short talk with Severus. She hoped her words had gotten through to him and that he realized she was there to help.

Initially, Fabian and she had tried to force help on Gideon. They staged interventions and tracked his movements, and it led to bitterness and resentment. Gideon thought they were treating him like a child, and he had angrily rejected their efforts to help.

It was only when Molly started to trust in him, to treat him as an adult aware of his problem, did he slowly start to come around and open up. Progress was haphazard and unsteady, but he started to turn to her in moments of difficulty and she had pulled him through enough nights were overcoming his addiction no longer felt impossible.

And then he had died, taken out by five Death Eaters, and Molly supposed she would never know if he would have made it completely out of the dark pit of addiction, and that thought had compounded her grief.

However, her experience with Gideon had prepared her for Severus Snape. To treat him as a child and dictate orders would cause him to push her away violently. At best, she could only hope he would trust and listen to her so that he would concede to rehab and come to her for help.

This approach bet much on Severus, but she felt no other way would work. And so she waited and let him come to her.

+++

He broached the topic again a few weeks later as they washed the dishes. Arthur was putting the kids to bed, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen. Molly typically used magic, but Severus had offered to help, and they had done so the Muggle way.

It made her wonder about his upbringing. He had joined the Death Eaters, indicating a hatred of Muggles, but he seemed familiar with their way of life. She had never heard of the Snape name and wondered about his family.

 “Molly,” Severus began quietly, sounding strained. “Your brother…”

“Yes, dear?” Molly asked, keeping her voice light. She handed a plate to Severus to dry.

“I heard about what happened to him…how he…it was, not many could have he done what he did.”

“Take on five Death Eaters?” Molly clarified, and Severus nodded. “Yes, he was quite the man. I think he died as he would have liked.”

Severus twisted his mouth and stared hard at the soap bubbles. Molly waited for a beat, before continuing.

“I had been helping him fight his addiction. It had been terribly difficult, but he had made progress. He had been sober for four months before his death, and I never thought that would have happened, I, I was so proud of him for that,” Molly choked up at the end, and she rubbed a few tears from her eyes. She gripped the kitchen counter and breathed deeply. “I…I want see the same for you, my dear. To see you free from…”

The kitchen blurred in front of, and after a moment, she looked at Severus. “I won’t save you, dear,” she continued. “But I do want to help you. If you’ll let me.”

Severus didn’t move, and it took a closer look to see that he still breathed. He had closed his eyes, face blank. It took a long moment for him to nod and whisper okay, and Molly moved to pull him into a hug but he turned away before she could.

He returned the following night and looked particularly unwell, his face sallow and eyes dull. Molly sat him down and handed him a cup of tea and waited for him to speak.

“I won’t be easy to help,” he said quietly, staring into his lap. Molly nodded.

“I know.” And she did.

“And I’m not sure I’m worth the help,” he said, voice apathetic. He spoke like he was reading from a dull textbook. Molly figured it was his way of protecting himself.

“You are,” Molly assured him, but Severus didn’t react.

“It would be far easier and likely more pleasant for you if you and Minerva disregard my…problem. Indeed, I cannot promise you anything besides frustration and misery, and for that matter, it is probably unwise to try to…assist me.” He reported his sentiment as fact, and only looked at her at the end of it.

“I suppose so,” Molly conceded. “But that’s for me to worry about.”

“Yes, but,” Severus started to protest. Molly shushed him.

“I’ve raised seven children, love, so please don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to handle it,” she said with a kind smile, and Severus took a sip of tea, lips pulling down into a frown. “What do you need me to do?” she asked, and Severus blinked, face twisting in surprise.  

“I, ah,” he said, if taken aback by the question. “It would…I don’t want to presume too much.”

Molly shook her head. “You won’t, dear.” Severus stared at her, expression turning inward for a moment.

“I suppose,” he continued, speaking tentatively.  “If you could…sit with me some nights. Just to…keep me distracted.”

Molly reassured him she could, and told her to owl her on those nights, and that she would always come, and oh do be quiet, she had spent many long sleepless nights when the children were babies, and this would be nothing new.

Severus had drawn in a shaky breath and nodded as if reassuring himself, and then he wished her goodnight and left.

Two nights later he had asked her ever so politely if she would mind sitting with him for an hour or two, and she had immediately apparated away and sat beside him as he tried and failed to grade papers.

Tension radiated from him, and his gaze skirted around the room, and Molly tried to distract him by talking about Charlie’s fascination with dragons, and had he ever seen a dragon, and did he think it was alright for Charlie to go off to Romania?

He had responded curtly, mind clearly elsewhere. Despite his protests, Molly didn’t leave until the first early rays of sunlight peered through his windows. She left exhausted and immediately collapsed into bed.

The next night he asked for her, she pulled out her father’s old chess set and brought it with her. He had eyed it warily as Molly set up the pieces, quieting a boisterous bishop. He was familiar with the game, and they played long into the night.

Molly left in the early hours of the morning, smarting from her ten straight losses.

She continued to lose to him, night after night, as he outsmarted her time after time. He set up elaborate traps that cascaded into the loss of many of her pieces. Her pieces started to yell angrily at her, losing all trust in her ability to play against him.

No matter how badly battered her pieces became, she considered every game a victory. Severus seemed to focus intently on the game, eyes sharp and narrowed. His movements were controlled and exact, the tension falling to the wayside as he contemplated the chessboard.

Molly could only imagine how invasive his addiction was, how every breath worsened his craving, but he seemed to settle himself while playing chess and the drug’s hold on him didn’t seem as potent.

He did seem to be getting better, she realized one night. He looked healthier for one thing. He smiled more, even if they remained tight-lipped and reserved. He asked about her and her family and seemed to genuinely listen.

Minerva noticed similar success, visiting Molly every so often to discuss Severus. When she checked on him some nights he would come to the door, book clutched in his hands and most importantly, sober. He had started to relax around her, the desperation in his eyes lessening.

Minerva had asked how she had done it, and Molly warned her the fight was far from over. However, she still described that they played chess and how Gideon had taken up gardening as a way to distract his mind.

Minerva looked deep in thought as she left, and Molly thought nothing more of it until she saw a piano in Severus’s quarters.

“I didn’t know you played piano,” she said, tilting her head as she stared at it. Severus stood behind her and shrugged.

“Minerva suggested I should start,” he said blandly.

“Come here,” Molly said softly, sitting on the bench. After a moment, Severus sat beside her but kept himself far enough away from her so they didn’t touch. Molly brought her hands to the keys and played a small tune her mother had taught her.

Severus watched, face blank, and then Molly gestured for him to play, and he stumbled through Canon in D, hissing at every wrong note. Molly told him to try again, and Severus did until he played the song without error.

By that time, the worst of the night had passed, and Molly left him with a gentle smile and well-meaning encouragement over the piano.

+++

Their nights started to alternate between the piano and chess, and they passed through the winter with relative ease. Even though Severus continued to use, he looked much better, and things were going well. If he continued to trust in and listen to her and Minerva, she figured Severus would eventually find himself clean. She prayed nothing happened to deter their progress.

On a rare warm day in March, she and Severus had gone for a walk, and Molly had decided to bring up rehab.

He cut down the idea immediately, voice icy. But Molly continued to press, and after he fumed, he eventually relented, and Molly found a group to enroll him in.

He didn’t talk about rehab, and Molly didn’t touch the topic again. Minerva certified that he continued to go to their meetings, and as long as he did, Molly had no issue spending their nights keeping conversations light.

By this time, she had also managed to scrape a few victories in chess from Severus, but she had a persisting feeling that he had let her win.

+++

Minerva and she lost track of Severus over the summer. He had returned to his house, and Minerva had a much harder time checking in on him. He also stopped writing to Molly, which worried her immensely.

She started inviting him to dinners again, a routine that had fallen off over the winter, but Severus always politely declined. She knit furiously over it, and no matter what Arthur did, she couldn’t relax.

Since all else had failed, she started sending Severus baked goods again, mourning that they had slid back. It was expected, however, and she could only hope he would come back to her.

It was a humid, oppressive day in July when he did.

She unfurled his note, sucking in her cheek at the words: Molly, I hope I am not bothering you. If you are so inclined, I would appreciate your company. My address is 7 Spinner’s End, Manchester – Severus.

Molly told Arthur to watch the kids, and she apparated away. She nearly thought she had gotten the address wrong when she looked up at the house.

It was a narrow, beaten black house squeezed between two other narrow, beaten black houses. The windows were all shuttered, making the house foreboding. Molly stared up at it and glanced around the street. It looked to be a poor, rough neighborhood, and a gang of teenage boys eyed her warily from the end of the street.

He must have grown up here, she thought. Otherwise, there was no reason for a wizard to live in such a place. And if so, he must have been poor. Which would explain why he had never dismissed or disdained at Molly’s less than ideal financial situation.

The gang of teenagers started to approach her, so she walked up to the door and knocked. After a moment, Severus answered.

“You haven’t been eating,” Molly said, staring at the boy. Severus gave a jerky shrug and turned around, walking back into the house. Molly followed, eyes wide as she took in the bare surroundings. Nothing indicated warmth; rather, it was a place to be endured.

Severus led her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, leg bouncing up and down. He stared at a spot in the floor, and Molly noted how his clothes hung from him and his face was pinched and heavy bags hung underneath his eyes. He clutched at his wand, holding it tightly against his side. He stood there and then startled as if remembering something.

“Would you like something to drink?” he said hoarsely, and Molly wondered if he felt sick. He certainly looked like it.

“Some tea?” she offered, and Severus frowned and nodded and turned to make the tea. Molly watched him, resisting the urge to pull him into a tight hug and never let him go. He handed her the cup, hand pulling quickly back, and she smiled kindly at him. “It’s about time you called,” she said, and Severus flinched. The response formed a knot in her stomach. “Arthur’s not nearly as formidable at chess at you are. I’ve missed our games.”

Severus nodded, the movement twitchy and unsure. He leaned back against the counter but remained tense. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words catching in his throat. Molly took a step forward, and Severus glanced away. “You, you don’t have to stay very long. I don’t want to bother you. But it’s…”

“Severus,” Molly tried, but Severus shook his head, lank hair swinging.

“I…I have to go to my mother’s grave today. Because it’s the anniversary. And I just…” he trailed off, sounding strangled. Molly stared at him as her heart threatened to break.

“Of course, dear. I would be honored. What was her name?” she asked gently, and Severus bit at his lip, face tightening.

"Eileen Prince,” he said quietly and quickly, and Molly jolted at that. They had been a few years off at Hogwarts, but Molly remembered her as a quiet, thin girl with a penchant for astronomy. She didn’t seem to have many friends, shying away from the Slytherin crowd. Molly hadn’t heard of her since Hogwarts.

“I was at Hogwarts with her, dear,” Molly reflected, and Severus eyed her warily, grip tightening on his wand. “We never crossed paths, but from what I could tell, she was a lovely girl. She loved the stars,” she added, and Severus exhaled through his teeth.

“She did,” he responded, a spasm of pain disrupting the blankness of his face. Molly ached to reach and comfort him, but she knew he would flinch back from her touch. He always did.

“Do you have flowers for her?” Molly asked.

“Yes,” he said as a breath of air, and he walked out to the next room and carried in a beautiful bouquet of pink and white carnations, ferns, rosemary, and white poppies.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, and Severus glanced away, something breaking across his gaze. “When do you want to go?”

“Now? If that’s alright…” he asked carefully, and Molly thought of how he treated everything he did as an inconvenience for her when that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

They walked beside each other in silence, and Severus carefully carried the flowers, as if they might break. They finally reached a small graveyard overrun with weeds and vines, and Severus led her to the back of it where one modest grave lay untouched by the vegetation.

Eileen Snape it read 1940-1973. There was no other inscription, just the name and date. Molly calculated the dates in her head. She had only been 33 when she died, terribly young when Molly thought of it. Severus would have only been…

Thirteen. He had lost her in the summer of his third year, and Molly felt his grief opening like a cavern before her. She thought of Percy who was at that age, and her heart broke for him. To lose a mother so young…

Severus bent down to his knees and placed the flowers on the grave. Molly kneeled beside him. He gripped at the grass, head bent forward. After a few moments, his shoulders started to shake, and Molly reached out to gently rest her hand on his shoulder.

To her surprise, Severus didn’t jerk away. He just kneeled there, sucking in short breaths as he cried. Molly rubbed small circles onto his back and then reached out to carefully pull his head to her chest. He clutched at her robe, shoulders shaking, as Molly softly stroked his hair.

They stayed like that for a while as the birds chirped around them.  Eventually, Severus pulled away, rubbing at his face. He stood slowly, looking down at the grave, and Molly followed.

Severus drew in a shaky breath as if preparing to speak. However, he seemed to think better of it, and Molly decided to fill the silence.

“Do you want to talk about her?” Molly asked, causing Severus to frown.

“She…” he said struggling, “I hope she’s in a better place, that’s all.”

“Is your father still around?” she continued, and Severus froze, tension immediately radiating from his body. Molly blinked at the reaction.

“No,” he said, his voice scarily empty when compared to his physical response. “He,” Severus continued, and Molly listened closely. “He was…a drunk. He abused her…us. He’s not…I made sure he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again,” he finished, the vulnerability turning to steel and rage. Molly blinked at the words, the meaning not lost on her, and she thought of a small Severus and she thought of a beaten mother doing her best to protect her son.

“Good,” Molly replied softly, and Severus turned to stare at her.

“I killed him,” he said bluntly, examining her for disgust or hatred or repulsion. Molly kept her face still; he was a Death Eater, she had known that. And if his father had abused a mother and a child, she wouldn’t be one to argue over the morality of taking him from the world.

"That’s alright, dear,” she comforted, and Severus twisted his mouth, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If you believe it’s what he deserved.”

“He did,” he spat. He closed his eyes as memories accosted him. “He did terrible things. To me and my mother. Unforgivable things.” His voice twisted with the words, and he pressed his lips together tightly. “That’s why…” he continued, the words coming out slowly and painfully. “Why summers are so difficult for me. It’s not easy to forget” he said, voice turning harsh as if he hated his vulnerability. “I haven’t been doing well. As you can imagine. But I…that’s how my mother died,” he whispered. Molly leaned in to catch his words. “She overdosed when I was thirteen. I was the one…the one to find her. And I don’t, I can’t do that to you or Minerva or Albus. So I’m not…what do I need to do Molly?” he pleaded, and Molly ached at his voice. She reached over and lightly grabbed his hand. He trembled but didn’t pull away.

“Trust in me, Severus, child. I will fight for you, with you, but you must trust in me.”

“I…” he said uncomfortably, shifting between his feet. Then he shut his eyes and steadied himself. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”

Molly nodded. “That’s all I can ask for, love. Now how about we go to Minerva’s? She’s been missing you too, and we can mourn for your mother together?”

Severus thought for a long moment, drew in a shuddering breath, and nodded. “Alright,” he agreed, and Molly gave him a few more moments to mourn his mother at her grave before they apparated away.

They landed at Minerva’s small cabin surrounded by trees alight with sunshine, and Minerva pulled Severus into a sweeping hug and told him a wonderful story about his mother winning the Gobstone’s tournament. They mourned with him, but most of all, Molly mourned for that poor, abused child who had only needed someone to keep him safe.

+++

Severus spent the rest of the summer at Minerva’s cabin, despite his many initial objections about burdening her. Minerva remained steadfast and Severus finally relented, moving into the small guest bedroom.

Molly visited frequently, bringing over food every time, and she noticed with satisfaction that he had started to put on weight. Minerva reported that he had been doing better too and that he had been keeping busy with potions and research.

Molly swelled with pride when, at the end of August, he showed her a four-week sobriety chip. He tried to pretend as if it didn’t matter, but Molly wouldn’t let him.

+++

He returned to Hogwarts, and it seemed as if that summer had acted as the pivotal turning point in Severus’s battle against addiction.

He showed her a two-month chip, and then with bitterness, showed her a two-week one. But she encouraged him all the same, and Minerva stood by him, and despite everything, he started to get better.

He also got a cat, which he named Calypso, and she was a beautiful calico cat who seemed particularly taken by him. Molly had asked him about her, and he had explained that Minerva had found a stray and asked if he could watch over her.

Molly had asked Minerva about it later, and Minerva had shrugged, smiling. “I thought it would be nice for him to have a cat.”

Molly couldn’t disagree, and Calypso became another fixture of their nights playing chest, a small spotted ball that would curl up in Severus’s lap and that he would stoke lazily.

+++

He relapsed one night in January and showed up at Molly’s angry and acrimonious.

Molly had thrown on her bathrobe and rushed downstairs to meet him, trying not to wake the children.

Severus paced in the kitchen, muttering frantically under his breath, and Molly had to cough to pull him out of whatever world he had trapped himself in.

Severus had stared at her, pupils blown and face slack. He stumbled backwards and then caught himself, pulling his lips back into a sneer.

"Severus,” Molly said quietly, stepping towards him. Severus jerked away and laughed, the sound high and tense. He stumbled forward and caught himself on the chair, staring at his hands. “My dear,” Molly tried again, “what did you take?”

Severus snorted, his eyes glazing over a moment. Then he returned to himself and stared at her, gaze full of contempt. Molly fought the urge to step back.

“Why the fuck do you care?” he spat, and Molly flinched. He laughed brokenly, breath catching painfully. “Why the fuck do you care?” he repeated, an edge of desperation to it.

“Because I care about you,” Molly said, keeping her voice calm and steady. Severus stared at her wildly and looked away.

“You don’t even know who the fuck I am,” he said harshly, a muscle in his face twitching. “What I am. A fucking…” he trailed off, the lines in his face hardening.

“Then tell me, love,” Molly said and she waited. Severus jerked away and stumbled against the counter. His head dipped down and he breathed in raggedly.

“I’m not worth, not worth,” he whispered, his shoulder blades poking into his shirt.

“You are,” Molly corrected firmly. “You are worth it.”

Severus jerked back and laughed jaggedly. “Fuck,” he cursed as if searching for what to say.

“Severus…”

“NO!” Severus shouted, and Molly quickly silenced the room. “LOOK AT ME!” he yelled, and Molly did, watching in apprehension as he yanked apart the buttons of the shirt and pulled off his shirt and pants violently.

He was so terribly skinny, Molly thought distantly as she took in his body. And so terribly pale.

Then her apprehension morphed into horror as he muttered a spell and scars began to raise against his skin, disrupting the smoothness with a mangled cruelty. The scars were plentiful and indicated many types of abuse, and Molly’s heart broke cleanly in two upon seeing it.

Severus breathed in hard, biting his lip. He then flung open his arms as if demanding Molly to see, and Molly had to cover her mouth to smother a sob.

“Oh, my child,” she whispered raggedly, and Severus stared at her, self-hatred tearing at his features.

“This is what you’re trying to save,” he said softly, eyes vacant. He glanced down and pulled his lips back in disgust. “This…thing. This disgusting piece of shit. And you can’t truly believe this is worth it. You can’t. How can you possibly look at me and want to help?” he asked, voice breaking on the last word, and Molly couldn’t speak past the painful ache in her throat, so she stumbled forward, and before Severus could protest, pulled him into a tight hug.

Her fingers ran over the scars on his back and they seemed even more terrible than his front, and her heart broke again, something deep splintering. Her cheek lay on her chest, pressing against a mottled burn scar. She held him tightly, and Severus trembled against her, breathing erratically.

After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her and grasped at the back of her bathrobe and started to quietly sob into her shoulder. Molly whispered to him how much he meant to her, what she saw when she looked at him, how his worth had never been a question to her, no matter what, and she didn’t let go for a long, long time.

+++

They didn’t talk about it past that night, and Molly sometimes wondered if he remembered.

But he didn’t relapse for a long time after that, and when he did, it was during the summer and Molly could understand why.

Minerva and she helped him through it, and when she looked back years later, that summer was the last time he used. 

+++

She knit him and Calypso sweaters for Christmas, and Severus had thanked her but said he would never dress his cat in human clothes. Minerva full-heartedly agreed.

She baked him a cake for his birthday, and Minerva, Albus, and she had thrown him a surprise party. Albus gifted him socks and a trip to Prague and Minerva cat toys and another piano book. Severus had choked up and had to turn away as if rubbing tears from his eyes.

They threw another party when Potions accepted Severus’s research, and he received praise from many well-esteemed Potions Masters. He was given an offer to continue research in Paris that summer, and he accepted, and returned that fall looking tired but happy.

When he showed her his one year sobriety chip, she had cried again and pulled Severus into a hug, and he hadn’t tensed or pull away as he did so many times before.

Then, Molly visited him one evening and found him crumpled against his bedroom’s wall, clutching at his chest and gasping for breath.

She had called Poppy immediately, frantic that he was having a heart attack. She clutched at his hand, whispering comforting words, and when Poppy rushed in and started to treat Severus, she turned to Molly grimly.

“It’s a panic attack,” she said quietly. “It can often be mistaken for a heart attack.”

"How do we stop it?” Molly asked desperately as Severus continued to gasp, eyes clenched shut.

Poppy summoned some potions and forced Severus to drink, and he stilled. It took him several minutes for him to come to himself, and Molly waited beside him, anxiously holding his hand.

He pulled his hand away and stared at them, a brief moment of vulnerability before he shuttered down and stared warily. He stood, running his hands down his robe, and scowled.

“Severus-,” Poppy began, but he interrupted her.

“I’m fine,” he said icily, eyebrow arched as if daring them to argue. Poppy tried to protest a few more times, but Severus remained steadfast, and eventually she left, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

Molly stared at him, thoughts racing through her head. They didn’t speak, just stood across from each other, and Molly reflected back on the own panic attacks she suffered during the war. She only had to think of the war taking her children from her, and the walls would close down on her and make her want to scream. Even now, she still carried that fear: of Charlie’s broken body or Fred’s shattered mind or Ron’s violent disfigurement. It had lodged itself inside her, crawled in and made itself a home, and the panic attacks had struck randomly and violently as the thing started to demand from her and ceaselessly whisper of her soon-to-be lost, dead children.

The world was far too dangerous, and a mother’s love overwhelming.

“How often?” Molly whispered, licking her lips. Severus shook and looked pose to argue.

“Often,” he conceded, his voice barely a whisper. Molly didn’t doubt it. The things this poor child would have seen during the war would torment anyone. She wished she could have shielded from it and taken in that tired, thin boy on her doorstep and never let him leave.

“I have them too,” she said softly, and Severus stared at her with wide eyes. “I worry about…my children. Losing them. With a war coming…” A lump in her throat caused her to break off. “Do you know how to bake, dear?” she asked suddenly, and Severus looked taken aback.

“Cook?” he repeated, and Molly nodded.

“It helps me. When it feels too much. Come here, dear, we can make something together,” she said, walking to the kitchen. Severus followed, and Molly searched his cabinets for ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. She instructed him softly, and Severus took to it easily.

Molly pressed a soft kiss against his cheek when they finished, and Severus blushed, cheeks tinging red. “Keep at it. I think it’ll help. If not, please tell me dear. You don’t need to suffer them alone.”

Severus nodded and thanked her and scarcely brought it up again. However, she noticed with abundant pleasure that Severus put on more weight than he ever had before, that he still wasn’t using, and that he stopped shirking away from her touch as if it burned.

+++

The years passed peacefully and the threat of war remained vague and distant. She raised her children, and it was exhausting but rewarding. There was no greater pleasure than seeing them grow.

At points, her heart ached at it. Her love for them stole her breath, and when talk got around of Harry Potter, the skinny boy she had met at King’s Cross, she understood how Lily’s love had protected him from the Killing Curse. There was nothing more powerful than a mother’s love for her child.

Severus seemed less than fond of her children. The twin’s antics irritated him, and since Ron had become fast friends with Harry Potter, Severus regarded him with a healthy sense of distaste. He didn’t mind Ginny, however, and after the terrible events of her first year, where the Dark Lord had violated her mind and made her do terrible things, he offered to teach her Occulmency.

Molly had pushed her to it, tired of seeing Ginny spending every day in her bed crying and jumping at every small sound. Ginny was wary and frightened and didn’t want anyone to know. Molly found excuses for them to slip out of the house together, and Molly stayed with her as Severus coached her through the basics of protecting her mind.

She resisted at first, crying that it didn’t matter, but Severus remain undaunted and talked to her quietly about how he had felt the same. That someone had also done something terrible to his mind once, that he lived in fear that they would do it again, but that he had learned to protect himself and that she would too.

Ginny rubbed her tears away, and they continued. By the end of the summer, Ginny no longer treated the world as if it meant to harm her, and she would meet people’s eyes as if daring them to try anything.

Molly had tried to thank Severus, but he dismissed it and insisted instead that they played chess. And they did, and Molly lost terribly.

The year leading up to the Dark Lord’s return was tense. Severus, fortunately, didn’t slip back into drugs to help cope, but he rarely smiled anymore and grew more reserved and inaccessible. Molly couldn’t help but feel she was losing him.

Then the Dark Lord returned, and everything took on a nightmarish tint. Molly cooked aggressively, trying not to think of Harry and Ron and how the Voldemort would try to rip them apart. She tried not to think too closely of what the Voldemort was doing to Severus, who, despite her objections, returned to him night after night and played the role of loyal Death Eater.

She did, however, think closely on how Sirius and Severus looked at each other, and while she had never seen Severus express interest in anyone, the attraction between them was undeniable. She asked him about it as they cooked one night, and Severus shrugged, saying they just needed help to sleep and it was one of Albus’s crackpot schemes. He couldn’t keep the small smile off his lips, and Molly made sure to thank Albus later.

Sirius seemed impossibly good for Severus, almost as if the universe was trying to apologize for what it had done to Severus. It made her swell with happiness as she thought of Severus in love, and she hoped Sirius made Severus felt safe and loved, because lord knows he deserved it.

From the glimpses she caught, their relationship seemed to be a beautiful thing. It healed them – these two drowning men who had suffered and lost and grieved – and gave them something Molly thought little else could.

The year grew cold quickly, and with the cold, the nightmare worsened. Arthur, her beloved Arthur, was viciously attacked, and only by the graces of Severus Snape did he survive. She tried to thank him, but he turned away exhausted, and she didn’t see him again until they were in that dilapidated house and she suddenly understood with a deep sense of sickening horror why Severus had always shied away from her touch.

Thinking of someone using Severus like that, like something to be used and disposed of, pulled apart her mother’s love and turned it against her, and she could barely keep herself from crying as he looked at her with a sixteen year’s old eyes and mistook her as his mother.

She wished, more than anything, that she could have been there for him. That she could have stormed in and saved him and his mother from his father and what he had done to them. But it was too late, and there was nothing to do but promise to protect him from everything else that threatened him.

That night, after she found some reprieve from the parasitic thought that that skinny boy she had met had been raped and abused over and over again, did she think how breathtaking Sirius’s love was for him. He deserved nothing else, and she hoped that the rest of the war wouldn’t tear them apart and corrupt the precious love between them.

The next few days were terrible as he refused to talk with her, and when she finally saw him at Christmas, it took everything she had not to pull him in a hug and never let him go back into that terrible, cruel world.

Then he finally relented, and she went upstairs and spoke of her love, and she thought Severus seemed to understand, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Her heart broke again for him, and she ran her hands through his hair, promising him everything a mother’s love could promise.

Her world shifted when she met the Agonized, and she understood Severus’s pain ran far deeper than anyone could truly fathom.

The war started taking turns for the worse as winter bled into spring.

Voldemort regained his key followers, Harry’s mind was at risk (and she knew that, unlike with Ginny, Severus would not nearly be as empathetic or understanding in his teachings), and everyone grew tense and uncomfortable as the prophecy loomed over them.

Severus, however, seemed happier than Molly had ever seen him, even though he tried not to let on. The war still haunted him, but Sirius Black became a sanctuary, and their love breathed life into two nearly dead men.

When she heard from Arthur that Sirius had died in the Ministry, she fell to her knees as a great lashing wave of agony hit her as she thought of Severus and what he had lost that night.

When she looked back years later, she knew that night was the night Severus truly died. He may have taken his last breath nearly exactly two years later, but in the ways that mattered, he died as his love did.

They couldn’t find him for a while, but when he finally emerged from the depths of his grief, there was nothing left behind his eyes.

Molly tried to comfort him, but there was no use talking about it. At the mention of Sirius, Severus glazed over, leaving this world for somewhere else. He never spoke his name again, never even indicated that he had known him. He didn’t use, but at that point, it didn’t matter.

She lost him that year.

+++

When she heard that he had killed Albus, she could hardly believe it. Minerva looked just as aghast, but Harry wouldn’t have lied.

Molly felt the world fall out below her, sending her hurtling someplace dark and terrible, and the panic attacks started to torment her, no matter how much she baked.

Molly never saw him again after that. She heard from Ginny, of course, about what Hogwarts had become under his watch, and her heart had ached when she thought of him teaching her frightened little girl how to protect herself.

She heard from the Order that the Dark Lord trusted no one like he trusted Severus, and she thought of that skinny, pale boy on her doorstep who had stared at her with so much distrust, and she prayed that he would find peace in whatever form it meant to him.

She heard from Harry, another one of her beautiful, brave children, that Severus had always been Lily’s, always been Dumbledore’s, had never been Dark Lord’s, and Voldemort screamed at that and then Harry had killed him and ended the war.

Molly had started to count her children, relief shaking her as she set sight on Ginny and Bill and Ron, and then she had seen George crouched over the body of his twin, and nothing felt like it would ever be right again.

The grief was enormous, overwhelming, and her knees ached from the stone floor, but nothing mattered, not in the face of losing her beautiful son.

Then her mind jumped to another beautiful son she had lost, and Harry had looked at her in surprise when she asked if anyone had gotten his body. He said no, and Molly felt bile burn her throat as she thought of him lying alone and broken. She pulled herself up.

She stumbled to Minerva who had her hand pressed tightly against her mouth, tears streaming down her face as she stared at all her fallen students. They looked at each other, the understanding immediate, and they left the death of the Great Hall.

They found him slouched against the wall of the Shrieking Shack, legs splayed out, arms relaxed, and neck a torn, bloody wound. His eyes were shut, and Molly couldn’t help but think that he looked at peace.

They had carried him back to the Great Hall and lay him among the Light, and they crouched beside him, holding each of his cold, elegant hands. She cried for him, for the misery he had experienced, for the life he never got to live, and she cried in relief that after so many years, the agony had ended for him and that he would be wherever they got to go with his mother and Albus and Lily and Sirius.

+++

Harry told them everything afterward – about Lily, about Dumbledore’s request, about everything he had done to keep them safe.

The children looked shell-shocked, but nothing made more sense to Molly.

The great revelation that Severus Snape was courageous and compassionate was something she had known for years.

+++

They held a memorial for him not long after. Minerva organized it, reaching out to past students she had known Severus had a special fondness for.

They had it on the Hogwarts grounds, which had been his home for so many years. The sunlight gently warmed them, and a light breeze whispered through the trees. It was a beautiful day to say goodbye to him, Molly thought.

The children came, and the remaining members of the Order, and the other Professors. Molly expected no one else, but Minerva’s letters had reached a network she hadn’t anticipated and a spectrum of past students arrived, wiping at their tears.

Molly lay a bouquet of purple hyacinths, spring crocus, daffodils, and white tulips next to the vase of ashes and rested her hand on it as she thought of him. Then she walked back to her seat, and Minerva gave a wonderful eulogy about Severus, and Molly was surprised she still had tears to cry.

George followed, and when he said that Severus had helped Fred and him for years with their pranks, Molly couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, he would do that. And of course, he wouldn’t spill a single word of it to her.

His story about the Potions Professor catching them in the last minute about to brew Lady’s Mantle with Monkshood and spiking the Halloween punch with it and explaining in his silky voice that it would cause powerful aphrodisiac sent everyone into fits of laughter. And then he choked up when he talked about how much Severus Snape had helped Fred and him launch their best-selling products and that he wasn’t sure he would be here today without him. People cried at that, and Molly had pulled him in a tight hug after.

No one else was slated to speak, but then a blond woman in her mid-twenties had walked up to the podium and exhaled deeply. She then talked about herself as a little Hufflepuff first-year whose father had sexually abused her for years, how no one else had seen but the terrifying Potion’s Professor, and how he had sat her down and promised it would never happen again. He kept his promise, she whispered tearfully, and she would miss him dreadfully.

The other Professors jolted, and Minerva had stared slack-jawed, before crunching over and trying to smother her sobs. The children stared wide-eyed, wet with tears.

The blond woman sat down, but it seemed to start something as a pale, handsome man took her place.

He smiled and then talked about he thought he was going to have to join the Dark Lord, being a pure blood of some important lineage. His family wanted it, his friends talked about, but god, all he wanted to do was become a Healer. He didn’t think he had much choice, with his parents refusing to support anything else besides the Dark Arts. He was depressed and angry and about to relent, when Severus noticed and helped him find some scholarships to attend Healer school and helped him build the courage to defy his family, and well, he was happily married to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, a Muggle at that, and had a good post at St. Mungos, and that he had to thank Professor Snape for that.

Then a dark-haired woman, a therapist with a similar story, and a blue-eyed man with an abusive household Professor Snape helped him get out of, and a curly-haired woman with a bright smile who said Professor Snape had connected her with a botanist off in New Zealand and changed her life and got her out of the nightmarish orphanage she had been in.

Then there was a thin brunette man who talked about getting addicted to drugs in his fourth year, and how Professor Snape had noticed and seemed to understand and found him help, and now he’s been clean for three years. Molly bit at her hand and cried.

At the end of it, Ginny stood up, chin trembling as she tried to speak about how Professor Snape had taught her to protect her mind after Tom Riddle possessed and gave her a courage she didn’t know that she had.

Harry looked like someone had slapped him, and he mumbled something to Ginny when she sat back down, and she leaned over to kiss him, and Molly smiled softly. Good, she thought. Let them find happiness.

Molly hugged every one of them afterward, and they seemed to know who she was or what she represented.

And then as everyone migrated to the Three Broomstick’s to share a drink in his memory, Minerva had walked over to her, eyes red, and whispered that it was time for them to go, and Molly nodded gravely. She walked over to the urn and held it, and Minerva gripped her forearm and with a crack, they had apparated to the coordinates Severus had left in his will.

She didn’t what to expect, but they landed in a beautiful clearing, surrounded by luscious trees and bedridden with wildflowers and with a crystal clear lake that housed a family of turtles. Minerva gasped, and it was clear neither knew where they had landed or why.

However, it was Severus’s last wish to be let go here, and Molly imagined it was a place of great importance, a place of wonderful happiness, and she could almost see Sirius lying in the grass, flowers in his hair.

Minerva licked her lips, and her voice cracked as she spoke. “He will be remembered as a hero, Molly. Someone who…”

“I know,” Molly said softly, the urn heavy in her hands. “He…he always deserved better. But, no matter what happened to him, he always fought for us. For the children. For everyone who needed someone,” she had to smother a sob and then continued. “Those people at the funeral…I never knew, Minerva.”

Minerva swallowed thickly. “I don’t think anyone did, Molly. But he…” she huffed out a laugh of disbelief. “For someone who presented himself so bitterly and cruelly, he was perhaps the most caring, loving person I’ve ever met. And when I think of him…” she broke off, closing her eyes. “I only hope he’s someone place better now.”

"He is,” Molly said, and it felt like the truth. She turned to Minerva. “Let’s do this,” she spoke against her grief, and Minerva nodded.

They let the ashes blow in the wind, disappearing into the warm spring air. And Molly thought that finally, after everything, her beautiful son had finally found peace.