A Mother's Luck

We've been lucky so far.

That's what we've all been forcing ourselves to say for the past five years. How lucky we've been. Yes, the lucky Weasley family. That's us.

Lucky my grandmother's garters. The beginning of Ron's fifth year, I overheard another witch saying that in the next few years, 'One out of seven of these poor dears won't live to see their next birthday'.

For the past five years, no one's understood why I insist that each and every single one of my children be home on their birthdays.

One out of seven. It made my head spin and my heart stop to think about it. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. I could never bring myself to imagine one of them being gone.

Bill was my first born. He was my first pride and joy. I cried when I held him in my arms for the first time because I just couldn't believe he was real. He brought tears to my eyes too many times to count, simply because he was the start of many 'firsts' in my life. He was the one who showed me what it meant to be a mother. He'll always be my first baby. There are still times when I try to deny that my darling Billy has grown up.

Charlie always has and always will hold a special place in my heart. I nearly lost him before I'd even had a chance to see him. When the doctors handed him to me and told me he was a regular miracle, I wouldn't let him go. Not even to Arthur. I wanted to hold him like that forever, to keep him safe. When he went off to work with dragons, I spent three days holding a picture of him near my heart. He truly is a miracle.

I cried when Percy was born, but only because I laughed too hard. He had the most serious expression on his face, the little dear. I watched as he grew more and more like his father, causing my heart to practically burst with pride. How I managed to produce such a logical child is beyond me. He is always the calm one, the eye of the storm. Such an over achiever. So much like his father.

Fred and George. George and Fred. Shame on me for ever getting them confused. I suppose that's why I've taken to sewing their initial into their sweaters. Those two have been giving me gray hairs since before they could walk. Always causing trouble. And yet, I wouldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't give up a single wrinkle. It just wouldn't be my family without constant surprises from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

My little boy. My wonderfully independent Ron. It breaks my heart to watch him wear hand-me-downs and use old wands. He deserves better than that and I vehemently wish I could change things. But he's made his own way, the blessed boy. He was the only one who didn't cry when he went off to Hogwarts. I know I don't tell him enough, but I'm proud of him. I'm proud to have a son like him.

Ginny was a marvel in my eyes. I'd almost given up hope on having a girl among my clan, and then she came along. She opened her beautiful eyes, looked up at me, and giggled. I'd never heard anything so wonderful in my life. It seemed to me she grew slowly. With everyone else, I could hardly blink before they were being sent off to school. But with her, it was different. She was my baby for a long, long time. And I loved her. I loved her fiercely.

My children are my life. I brought them into this world and I watched them grow. I saw blood, sweat, and tears and there is nothing that would make me take back even a moment of it.

All of them are alive and well. And thus, we can still say that we've been 'lucky so far'. But after re-counting the number of days until the next birthday, I ask you, dear heart...

What happens when our luck runs out?