Disclaimer—I don't own Harry Potter, the books, the intellectual property or anything else about it—all belongs to JK Rowling. I made up Hermione's parent's first names because I couldn't find any reference to their actual names. If anyone knows them, let me know, and I'll make the necessary changes.
Molly sat at her kitchen table at The Burrow, with a cup of tea in one hand, a pen in the other, and a scrap of parchment in front of her. She was trying to plan a decent meal for when the Grangers came for dinner this Saturday night.
"After all, Arthur," Molly had reasoned. "Their Hermione is good friends with Ron, and it seems like the only polite thing to do--to make them feel welcome, since their daughter is moving into a way of life which is unfamiliar to them."
Arthur didn't need his arm twisted. He was only too happy to have the chance to observe actual muggles up close, instead of just their artifacts. The next best thing would be to observe muggles in their natural setting, but that would have to wait. If this dinner went well, perhaps the Weasleys would be invited to the Grangers'.
The invitation had been sent, and graciously accepted (although Steve got a nasty scratch from the owl during his clumsy attempts to untie and tie messages to its leg). Molly had been in a furor of cleaning for a couple days. When she was satisfied that the house was in apple-pie order, she started attacking the menu. Pot roast, green beans, potatoes, pumpkin juice...Molly tapped her pen against the parchment when the door creaked open and in walked Arthur looking guilty.
Molly was used to Arthur breaking the rules regarding muggles, and she supposed he had recieved a talking-to from his long suffering boss. Whatever it was, she thought, it could wait. She smiled at him and waved the pen and parchment at him.
"Hello, dear," she said. "Just writing up the menu here for this weekend."
Arthur came over and kissed her on top of her head before sitting down. He cracked his knuckles nervously and grinned at her sheepishly.
"Oh, Arthur, what is it this time?" Molly said, kindly.
Arthur frowned. "Did you know that Ron and Harry never made the Hogwarts Express?"
"What are you talking about, we saw them off."
"Something went wrong. They didn't get on the Express. They--" he lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "They took the Anglia."
Molly's jaw dropped and her eyes widened with horror. "But--but--they can't drive--they can't do magic outside school--they could have--been killed--or..." she stammered. When the car had gone missing, she had figured that some thief stole it. That would have been bad enough, especially if the thief figured out how it had been tampered with. However, Arthur was always in and out of scrapes. She had washed her hands of the whole thing. Besides, she had a house to clean. But this--this was worse. Dangerous and reckless behavior by her youngest son had put himself and his best friend in danger.
Arthur sighed and handed Dumbledore's letter of explanation over to Molly, who devoured it, shaking her head and getting angrier by the minute. "Why--" she started, but Arthur put up his hand and sighed again.
"There's more, dear," he said.
"I should think this is enough."
"I have to face an inquiry at work."
Molly stared at him a long while. "You mean your boss wants to talk to you."
"A full inquiry, I'm afraid."
"Oh, Arthur," Molly stood up and walked over to the kitchen window, where she could stare out into her garden. An inquiry could lead to legal problems, and getting sacked, and financial problems. They didn't need any financial problems. It was hard enough to make ends meet now. She stood staring over her backyard, then came to a decision.
"I'm going to write to Ron. He needs to understand that what he did was wrong."
"Okay, Molly, but go easy on him. He's been punished enough."
Molly looked at him incredulously. "Go easy on him? Arthur, I'm going to send a howler."
Arthur looked like he was going to object until Molly turned on him suddenly. "A howler is letting him off easy! Too bad if he's embarrassed in front of his friends. He could have been killed! He could have killed Harry! " She stood directly across from him at the table. "You could get sacked. Frankly, this deserves more than a howler. "
Arthur knew he better not interfere. A howler was sent.
