They were missing. Annica, Andrew, and Rose were all missing. Andrew had been taken in the middle of a crowded train station. Annica had gone missing from Hogwarts. And Rose… Rose had been taken from right in front of her mother's nose. How was this possible, and why, why were they targeting her youngest son's family? No one else was having any problems, all of her other grandchildren were safe, and Annie, Andy, and Rosie were the only missing children at the moment. So whoever it was was targeting Ron specifically. Or Hermione specifically. Molly Weasley could think of no one who would want to do such a thing. Who would want to harm them?
Not even Lavender would want to. Lavender had left willingly. She'd given Ron the children, told him to go back to Hermione. Why would she be so angry with him now? And why go after Rose, if it was her children she was after? And anyway, hadn't she removed her memory or something of the sort? Surely she didn't even know who Ron and her children were. She probably had big gaps in her memory, but… It didn't make sense, not to this aging grandmother.
She stands, sighing softly to herself as she prepares dinner for her husband. He'll be coming home soon, and he'll want food when he does. She's distracted, so she lets the water overflow. She lets the chicken burn, and she has to start all over again, throwing the burnt food out into the garden for the cats that have suddenly made their home near the Burrow to eat. She starts the food again, paying closer attention, and trying not to burn it this time. It's been ages since she burnt something, though the first two months of her marriage had been mostly burnt food.
The door opens, and she looks up from the stove. "Arthur, you're home early!" she says. But it's not her husband who walks in. It's her youngest son, and he's holding one of those ridiculous muggle tapes that Arthur keeps watching. Molly frowns. "What's going on, Ron?"
"Half the auror office has begun looking for them. They've followed every lead they can, but it's all dead ends. Until now. You see, muggles have these things called cameras, and the cameras record what's going on. The park that we lost Rosie at has one. We need dad's televisor or whatever the hell it's called to look at it. They wouldn't let us look at the tape while we were in the place they kept it, and they don't have anything at the Ministry that I can use."
Molly pauses. "I don't know how to work it. If you can wait until your father gets home, I'm sure he'll let you." She can hardly believe that her husband's strange muggle obsession will be useful. The door opens again, and this time it's Hermione. Molly smiles and hugs her, and Hermione looks at Ron, and then at Molly. "If you show me where Arthur keeps the television and VCR, we can finish this quickly." Hermione is pale, and Molly is concerned, but mostly because she knows that look. She shows them to the room, but draws Hermione aside after she's set things up for Ron to watch.
"You're pregnant, dear."
Hermione nods, looking to the closed door where Ron is waiting, hoping to see the person who took his youngest daughter, and probably all three of his children. "I'm afraid, Molly. I know I should be happy, Ron's always wanted another boy, but… what if whoever this is finds out? What if they go after me next? I don't know who they're trying to hurt, but can you imagine what it'll do to Ron if he loses all of us? I… I don't know what to do." Molly doesn't know what to say, and doesn't have to say anything, because a shout from behind the closed door alerts them, and they run into the room.
Gasps come form the two women, and Ron is staring at the screen in a state of shock. Because in that paused moment on the screen, you can see Hermione, her head turned away, and you can see Rose, and you can see Lavender taking her.
"Lavender."
Ron speaks first. "I can't believe it. I thought… I didn't think it was possible… I thought…" He buries his face in his hands, because now he knows. It's his fault. It's his ex wife, it's the mother of two of his children who's making their lives miserable, who's upsetting his wife so badly she gets sick. He says nothing, he doesn't cry. Molly moves toward him, resting her hand on her son's shoulder. "We know who it is now, Ron. You can find her. You can get them back."
And he nods wordlessly, and above them, Molly's chicken is burning again.