Disclaimer: The characters, locations and world of Harry Potter belong to JKR, not me.

Author's Notes: This fic (short and crappy as it is) was inspired by the Clay Walker song 'Fore She Was Mama.

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The summer after Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, while they were helping with the Hogwarts Restoration Project, Fred and George Weasley discovered the epitome of human female perfection. She was everything they had ever figured a woman ought to be, and quite possibly more even than that.

Unfortunately, they didn't know her name, and she'd finished Hogwarts at least a good seventeen years before they'd started.

But as a third year she had, one of the more vapid portraits assured them, bawled out the then-Head of Slytherin house for unfairly giving a detention to her older brothers. As a seventh year, she had bought dungbombs for the first year James Potter and Sirius Black; then she'd been found in the DADA professor's office doctoring another student's already submitted homework, and probably would have been expelled if she'd been caught by anyone other than the Head Boy, her boyfriend.

Between that time, she had repeatedly pilfered things from the Potions Professor's private stock, snuck out of Gryffindor Tower (she, was of course, a Gryffindor) at all hours of day and night, occasionally skipped classes with only the flimsiest of excuses and sometimes none at all, terrorized bullies, put Puking Powder (a Zonko's product that was, due to often dire side-effects, discontinued before they were born) in the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain's breakfast the morning before the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match. And those were only the things they'd found proof of -- there were any number of other, more fantastical occurrences attributed to her, but of which she'd never been convicted.

Fred and George nearly drove themselves to death, attempting to discover her identity; of course they knew they could do nothing with it, but that didn't matter to them. It was purely academic interest on their part, as much as they ever allowed themselves such intellectual leanings. They told themselves they only wished to know -- and after all, sometimes knowledge was better than possibility.

And then they found her name on an old detention record that had somehow escaped the devastation. It leaped out at them, like a riddle's answer that they had always known, somewhere deep down, and just never let out. It was like a secret they hadn't really needed to discover.

Molly Prewett.

They thought they'd just about died and gone to heaven.

The next time their mother caught them doing something she disapproved of, and therefore screamed at them, they simply nodded, smiled and murmured, "Yes, ma'am!" with a deferential respect they hadn't shown since they were nine.

Because Mum, before she was Mum, had been the Holy Horror of Hogwarts, and it was really no wonder the suits of armor had flinched whenever Fred and George had gotten Howlers.