As the smoke of breakfast and the early haze yielded their coveted positions as guardians of the morning, a rare English sun took it's rightful place high in the morning sky. Molly Wesley bustled around the kitchen, the enchanted brushes having finished washing the breakfast utensils. Try as she might, Mrs. Weasley could never keep herself from glancing at the Weasley family clock. It was bad enough that Mr. Weasley worked for the Ministry of Magic and would always be at some risk, but many of the children were involved in some form or fashion, in the war against Voldemort. Mrs. Weasley worried incessantly about her family, but she could not begrudge the wizarding world, or Harry Potter, their help.

Mrs. Weasley was particularly concerned about the hand of the clock that represented her estranged son, Percy. The 'Percy' hand had been fixed in the 'Mortal Danger' position for the past week, and Mrs. Weasley could do nothing but worry and think back to her dreadful experience with the boggart at number twelve Grimmauld Place.

After a day of housework, Mrs. Weasley found herself, as usual, at the kitchen sink preparing vegetables. Her preference might have been to wash with magic, but, when it came to cooking for the family, it was her hand that took the credit. As she absentmindedly glanced out the window while preparing the evening's greens, Mrs. Weasley was completely astonished to see her third child, Percy, walking down the lane toward the house. Accompanying him were two young men of about the same age - early twenties she thought in snap judgement.

Putting aside Percy's lack of favor within the family as only a mother would do, Mrs. Weasley tossed the vegetables down into the sink and raced out the door. She greeted Percy with a huge bear hug, tears flowing down her rosy cheeks and barely coherent blubbering. Percy acknowledged her with a cursory, standoffish hug of his own and then introduced his two companions as friends from the Ministry. Once the idea of guests penetrated her excitement, Mrs. Weasley shepherded the three young men into the house and plopped them down at the kitchen table.

In no time at all, she had mustered three bottles of cold butterbeer for Percy and his friends along with some bread and cheese, fussing at the 'boys' to eat and drink. Mrs. Weasley turned her attention back to the greens in the sink, talking as she worked, asking Percy why the visit? Even though she was pleased as could be that he had shown up, Mrs. Weasley was equally aware that this was completely unexpected and out of the ordinary. Up until this time, Percy had done nothing that warranted any actions by his being called a 'good surprise.'

"Well, Mother," Percy explained between swigs of butterbeer, "we are actually looking for Harry. We had heard he was staying here, and my friends needed to ask him some questions concerning Ministry business. They asked me to help them." Mrs. Weasley's heart practically stopped in alarm as she heard this, and it took every bit of composure she could summon to keep working as if nothing was wrong. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she furiously thought about what to say. Percy's companions eyed her carefully as they awaited her response.

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to answer although she still wasn't sure what was going to come out. Before the first word could escape her lips, Archie McClendon innocently walked through the kitchen door, and all hell broke loose.

Archie McClendon was well-trained and experienced enough to immediately realize something was very wrong, so wrong, in fact, that he withdrew his wand instantly and took aim at one of the strangers. Urgency propelled Archie to fire his first curse right away, but being caught somewhat by surprise forced the rushed yellow beam to be slightly askew and the curse struck the table instead. Shards of china went flying off the table all about Mrs. Weasley, who screamed as she covered her face.

These strangers, however, were fully prepared for the Auror. Before a second curse could be uttered, Auror McClendon was felled by a fatal ribbon of green light as "Avada Kedavra!" echoed through The Burrow. Archie slammed back against the tall oak hutch and then slumped forward onto the table, dead.

Percy jumped from the table and backed against the wall, a look of shock on his face as terror sparked throughout his entire body. Molly Weasley froze by the sink, terrified. Coherent thoughts were barely possible as she surveyed the scene in front of her: Percy safe but in danger, Archie dead and two figures now draped in black approaching her.

The two men grabbed Mrs. Weasley, threw her down into a chair and charmed a rope around her. Pleasantries were the furthest thing from their minds as they began to grill Molly Weasley on the whereabouts of Harry. Each time she refused to answer, one of the men moved closer and closer to her face. At her third refusal to answer, his frustration took over, and he took out his wand. Without even asking a fourth time, he aimed it at Mrs. Weasley's chest and yelled, "Crucio!"

Birds fluttered from the trees, and garden gnomes went diving into their holes as Mrs. Weasley's screams pierced the silent dale. The pain shooting through her body was agonizing - more than she could bear - as she fainted dead away in the chair. Before the black figures could decide what to do next, they heard several 'pops' outside near the garden. The two Death Eaters immediately apparated, cursing to themselves at the reception they were sure to receive upon their return to Voldemort.

Mr. Weasley and two Aurors burst through the door to find Mrs. Weasley, Percy and Archie McClendon in the kitchen, no explanations forthcoming as to what had happened. One of the Aurors immediately said, "Arthur, we must get them all to St. Mungo's. Please, as quickly as possible!"

The scene around Mrs. Weasley's bed was one of great anguish as she lay there unconscious. Each member of the Weasley family save for Percy, who was elsewhere in the hospital, was feeling deep personal strife. Loss in battle was one thing, but an attack on one's wife/mother was taken personally. Harry held Ginny's hand as tears rolled down her cheeks, and the look of anger on Fred's and George's faces was the last thing anyone would ever have normally expected to see from them.

Harry released Ginny's hand and gave her a hug. After whispering something to her, he went and kissed Mrs. Weasley gently on the forehead. Without another word, he left the hospital room and headed straight for the Gryffindor common room. He had reading to do and, with Voldemort now searching so intently for him, the journal could no longer wait.

Although Harry had actually spent very little time at Hogwarts during this seventh year, the students were aware of everything going on both outside and inside school. They gave Harry the wide berth and privacy he needed without having to be asked. Harry was not sure if this was out of respect or fear or both, but he was grateful for it. Even Colin Creevey resisted severe temptation and held his tongue and, more to the point, his camera.

Harry settled himself down in the large armchair by the hearth, and a casual glance into the fire brought a twinge to his heart. One of those many memories was talking to Sirius in the fire. That longing, and the bond they shared, brought Harry right back into focus with an even greater determination. Harry looked down at the journal he had placed on his lap. With a deep sigh, he read the cover for the hundredth time but actually broke it open for the very first time.

There was no real plan in Harry's mind on how he was going to approach his mother's journal, so he stood the book with its binding along his thigh and thought about where to start. One part of Harry said to start at the very beginning; another part of him was so anxious to read everything he just wanted to flip through it and absorb each and every word instantaneously. As Harry balanced the book between his hands, he found it parted on its own and fell open onto his lap. Harry looked down and saw the page facing up at him was shimmering like no other page, and in one corner the letters "AD" were scribbled. With a warm knowing smile, Harry realized that the decision had been made for him, so with his heart pounding he began to read:

"Tomorrow is the big day, and I'm so excited! When Professor Slughorn helped get me a job in the Ministry and then on the 'Department of Mysteries' research team, he always said that someday I might be allowed into 'The Secret Room.' Well, tomorrow the team will finally enter for a fortnight's worth of research. I guess I am nervous, too, not knowing at all what to expect. James is excited, but he just wants to know what is inside. . . Oh my word, I couldn't believe what I learned today in 'The Secret Room!' It is a small room, barely large enough to fit the seven of us into it. And it is so bare - the room contains only three small black columns, each about one metre tall, arranged in a triangle within the room. But that isn't what's important - it's the glass prism standing upright on top of each column. Together they are called the "Prismata Vita", the "Prisms of Life." Apparently, no one knows exactly how old they are, other than they are about a thousand years old; nor does anyone know who created them. All anyone knew was how to make them work. It was the power that the Prisms yielded which prompted the Ministry to secret them away all these years. And I saw it work today! The team Leader placed a plant in the middle of the Prisms, aimed his wand, and said "Prismata Aqua!" At this, the Prisms turned from clear to a glowing pearly translucence and sent a lavender beam from each Prism to the plant. The lavender light enveloped the plant and, within seconds, removed every bit of water from the plant. In short order the plant collapsed into a tiny mound of powder - all that remained once the water was removed. The demonstration of this power inspired such awe. . . Today we took a mouse and used the Prisms to remove its bones. It made me so sad to do that, but we gave it some Skelegrow to help the bones grow back. . . I wasn't supposed to, but I finally did tell James about 'The Secret Room,' under the promise that he must absolutely never tell anyone. He did promise (I love him so!). James did have an idea, though. He suggested that the Prisms might be used to remove Remus' tainted blood so that he would not have to bear the pain of being a werewolf. That is such a thoughtful, and brilliant, idea. It is also a very dangerous one. What if something went wrong? But I wonder. . . I've decided! Tomorrow I will try my idea! I am so scared, though. What if it doesn't work? What if I die? But I must find out . . . I went in early this morning to the Ministry and headed into the Department of Mysteries, as usual. This time, however, I went to 'The Secret Room' and let myself in. I was so nervous as I stepped in between the Prisms and aimed the wand at myself. I even left a note for James by the door, just in case. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I said "Prismata Occula Pigmenta!' The lavender light enveloped me, but I felt only a slight tingle in my eyes until the light dissipated, then nothing at all. I took my small hand mirror out and looked at myself. It worked! I had successfully turned my eyes from green to blue! The rush from this success was incredible. I just couldn't help myself, so I walked around all day with my eyes blue! People looked at me funny as I passed them in the halls - they could tell that something was different, they just weren't sure what it was. Ha ha ha. James would have been proud of me! At the end of the day, I pretended to work late. When everyone was gone, I went back to the 'The Secret Room' and reversed the process. It wasn't easy, but I did it. I gazed in a mirror for a few moments - just staring at my green eyes. It was late then, so I

Harry closed the book as he came to the end of this page. The look of wonder on his face would have been clear to anyone who glanced his way. Inside Harry the picture wasn't quite so straightforward. The logical de facto leader of the wizarding world's war against Voldemort was trying to process what he had just learned while the emotional orphaned boy felt himself torn apart by this encounter with his dead mother. One thing was certain, however: the world was not yet ready to see this journal or read its contents.

Racing through the halls and up the stairs, Harry wound his way through Hogwarts to the seventh floor. Glancing at Barnabas the Barmy, Harry proceeded to create a Room of Requirement solely for the safekeeping of his mother's journal. Should he die, no one would ever find it, and that would be just as well. When he emerged from the room and sealed it, things were churning once again in Harry's mind. Harry reached into his pocket and placed his hand on his DA Galleon, sending a message for Ron and Hermione to meet him back at the Gryffindor common room.

By the time they had arrived an hour later, the emotional boy had exited, and Harry had regained full control of his senses. Harry was settled into his favourite armchair by the hearth when Hermione and Ron found him. They pulled their chairs close, facing him, anxiously awaiting to hear why Harry had called for them. Little did they know that Harry was about to reveal how they were all about to end the war.