Motivation

As she swept the soft hair from her son's brow and bending, kissed him as he slept, Hestia said a quick prayer. "Let it be over soon." She said it to no one, no deity, but she remembered her own mother would sneak into her room, so many years ago, and whisper the same words, the same plea. It seemed a natural thing to do no matter how unnatural the situation.

"Let what be over, Mama?" a small voice asked. Milo's eyes popped open and he gave Hestia a toothy grin. "Did we give you a headache again?"

"You little imps always give your mama a headache," Hestia teased, pinching his nose. "Do you want a night-night story?"

"Mama!" Milo groaned. "I'm ten. Too old for night-night stories!" Hestia stood, her hands held up in surrender. "Wait! You can tell me all about dragons!"

"All about dragons? Are you sure? They're awfully dull creatures, you know," said Hestia with a bored yawn. "All they do is eat and sleep and..."

"And?"

"...And devastate and kill!" Hestia said, jumping forward and tickling her oldest boy.

"Mama! Stop," Milo said between shouts of giggles. "Stop!"

"Okay," said Hestia, kissing him loudly on the lips. Once he stopped giggling, she said, "Go to sleep, little man."

"Mm. I'm the biggest man you've got, Mama," he murmured as he snuggled into his bedding. "Don't need anyone else."

With a quick charm to tidy Milo's room, Hestia retreated into the hallway. Photographs lined the walls, faces smiling, laughing, kissing, talking. When she and Archibald had been married, there had been more photographs, and more wall space. Today, in the tiny flat above the shop, there were only those that Hestia loved. She had let Archibald keep the others. She hadn't been to his new home to see if they were on the new walls and the boys never told her- not that they had much opportunity to observe their father's new house.

"Leo, I thought I told you to go to sleep?" Hestia demanded as she entered her middle son's room. "Why are you still reading?"

"It's really cool, Mama. Did you know that you could modify Garroting Gas to be lethal?" Leo asked, his soft brown eyes flashing with excitement. "You just need to add monkshood!"

"I didn't know that. How did you?" she asked, seizing the book he was reading. "Leo, what have I told you about taking the books from my worktable?"

"Not to?" he chirped, a charming smile on his face. "Why do you think the monkshood changes it like that, Mama?" he asked, not to be dissuaded.

"Probably because monkshood is poisonous, little one," Hestia said. "You know that."

"Yeah, I do," Leo said glumly. "Mama? Do you think I'll make a good apothecary like you?"

"I think you'll make a good anything. Especially a good Ravenclaw."

"So, you think Hogwarts will be re-opened in time for me to go? You think You-Know-Who will be dead and I'll be able to go to Hogwarts?"

"Yeppers, little one," Hestia said without any of the hesitation she felt. "Now go to sleep and don't let me catch you taking my books again."

She had still been at school when Voldemort had disappeared. Too young to have fought, still she remembered the terror of Voldemort's rise. Seeing her parents fear reflected in her own protectiveness of her three boys, Hestia realised just how much she had missed. Her parents must have felt just like she did, helpless, when the children couldn't go out and play. But her parents had done nothing about Voldemort, while Hestia was working with the Order of the Phoenix. Her boys would have their childhood.

Not that they seemed to notice how much was missing. Good little boys, Chester, Leo and Milo, when they wanted to be. They broke her heart with their dad's eyes and her hair. So dark, all three. Possibly delinquents too, as they seemed to have a penchant for mischief. The Weasley twins had banned them from their joke shop that day for nicking Canary Creams. But they were sweet to their mama, and she appreciated it.

"Shh! Shh!" she heard Chester say to something as she approached his door. Curious, she paused, listening to her baby whisper sweetly.

She crept into the room as if she believed he were asleep. Chester still liked his night-light, though he was five, and it lit the way to his bed for Hestia. She grinned as she glanced down upon him, his eyes squeezed tight and holding his breath, pretending to be asleep. "My baby boy," she chuckled, leaning down to kiss his brow.

Something squirmed under his bedclothes. Hestia gave a startled squeak and jumped back just as the face of a cruppy popped up beside Chester's head on the pillow.

"Chester!" Hestia cried. "Chester, no."

"But- but Mama! He was all alone in the alley behind the shop. He was sad," Chester's plaintive whine came as he gave up the ruse.

"Chester, we don't have room for a crup."

"But he's little, Mama. And he's already here," Chester explained. "And I'll take care of him and love him and feed him and walk him and bathe him and play with him and love him an-"

"Chester, the cruppy is going to grow and-" realising that her fingers were digging into the animal's soft fur and scratching, Hestia bit her lip to stop herself swearing.

"So I can keep him?" Chester begged, his pretty brown eyes begging as well. "Puh-lease?" The cruppy gave the most adorable yip and turned a remarkably similar pair of brown eyes on her as well.

"Uh- well... You're too young to have a pet," Hestia insisted.

"I'm not! And Leo and Milo have been helping and Bacchus... oops."

"Leo and Milo have been helping, have they?" Hestia asked, one eyebrow raised. "How long has he been here?"

"Uh. Two days."

"And who is Bacchus?"

"He is," Chester said, hugging his friend. "Can we keep him? Please, Mama. I love him!"

"I suppose. Since you love him, my baby, the both of you can stay."

"I love you too, Mama!" Chester shouted happily as he threw a hug around her shoulders. For all the grief she knew Archibald would give her about the cruppy, this was worth it- this was something Archibald would never get.

"I love you, baby. Now, go to sleep." She patted the cruppy once more. "You too, Boozy."

"No, Bacchus, Mama. Bacchus."

"Right, baby." She closed the door and gave a helpless laugh. "Three boys and a cruppy," she said aloud.

"Don't complain to my mother," a voice said behind her. Turning, Hestia saw Ginny Weasley had arrived, letting herself in with the key she'd been given. "She might turn green with envy."

"Sound advice." Hestia went to place the book Leo had nicked onto her bookcase and went into the kitchen, setting the dishes to wash. "I appreciate you coming again, Ginny. I've never managed to have a sitter come twice."

"As I said, compared to my brothers, your boys are practically angels."

"Help yourself to anything. I think the Weird Sisters are giving a concert on the Wireless Network," Hestia said. "I should return by two, and your father will come with me, to see you home. You came from the twins flat?"

"Yes. George and Verity walked with me. I think George is walking her to her flat before he goes to the meeting. Have a good time," Ginny said with a bit of envy laced in her voice.

Hestia walked around the back of the shop and out through the alley. It was ten in the evening and Diagon Alley was nearly empty. She got a little thrill when she walked passed her shopfront; Slug and Jiggers had been hers since she had left the Aurors, her grandfather happy for the chance to retire. It had been a good time for change.

Walking through the Leaky Cauldron, she stepped out into the Muggle world with a sad air. This would be the first official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix without Dumbledore. Two years of working with the man had taught Hestia many things and she was proud of herself. When Shacklebolt had first approached her about joining the Order days after Harry Potter had won the Tri-Wizard Tournament, she had been in the middle of her divorce and had been working eighty hours a week.

She had laughed in his face.

But Dumbledore had come to her, had asked wouldn't she like to spend more time with her boys? Didn't her grandfather want to retire the shop to a family member? Hadn't she worked in the shop all throughout Hogwarts? Wouldn't that be just perfect? All the time, he'd been slipping sweets to her children.

In the end, it had been perfect and she was thankful that Dumbledore had seen a way through her troubles. She had felt so dazed at the time, what with the divorce and the pressure of her career and the boys and the knowledge- Ministry approved or not- that Voldemort had returned.

All the problems in the world had fallen on her shoulders and she had felt like the childish, mousy teenager who had married Archibald Jones, not the self-sufficient Auror who was so independent and capable Archibald Jones didn't recognize the women he was sleeping beside. She had felt so useless, so confused, she had almost tried to reconcile, knowing full well that the only way to do it was to be her eighteen-year-old self again. Soft, demure, patient, naive, not the woman she was now- thirty-two and extraordinary. She was the boss of her own business, her own home and her own life. Plus, she had three little boys. And she was keeping them.

The walk to Grimmauld Place was quick but it was nice to get some exercise; it helped to focus her mind on the task ahead. They had to choose a new leader tonight, and Hestia hadn't clue who could fill Dumbledore's shoes. But, they would choose, because tomorrow...

Tomorrow they went after Voldemort with no hesitation. And soon Milo and Leo and Chester would go to Hogwarts and have their childhood and she would see them off every September, crying. There was no hesitation, and plenty of motivation, to go after Voldemort when you were a mother.