Autumn 1991

Molly Weasley

She stood in the kitchen of the burrow, in her usual spot, the place on the floor where the wood had been rubbed a little thin from constant years of use. She could have fixed it of course, with only a wave of her wand. But, what use was that? She would only wear it thin again in another year.

Her pink-plaid apron was coated in a tiny layer of flour, the same flour that raced along the cluttered countertop and spilt up the side of a large wooden bowl. The dough inside was perfectly plump, the same recipe as she had made a hundred times before and she was certain that this time would be even better than the last. It's just like that, she thought, you can make the same recipe a hundred times but some batches were just better. Perhaps it was a way the wind blew or the way she had mixed it.

Molly took the bowl over to the table where she carefully pressed the dough into a long oval tin. She tied twine around the top, in a pattern that was almost like a lattice, and used her wand to flick on the heat of the oven. Content with her work, she slid the tin into the heat and took a glance at the clock to mentally mark the time.

Thinking of clocks, she let her feet carry her to the wall clock that contained the hands of all her children. Seven small portraits hover above the right locations. Her youngest, Ginny, was upstairs. Her two oldest, Bill and Charlie, were out of the country. And the rest of her children were all right where they should be, at Hogwarts.

Only… her eyes lingered on one of the portraits. She felt a bit of sorrow cross over her heart as she imagined what Ron might be up to. He had been such a sweet boy, not the daughter she wanted, but the boy she loved nonetheless. It had come as a complete shock to her that he would end up in Slytherin. After all, never showing signs of malice, he was far more polite than the twins, and he lacked that thin gaunt darkness she had remembered adorning the faces of many of her own Slytherin yearmates. She couldn't help but think that something had happened to him, perhaps when Charlie had taken him to Knockturn Alley. After all, none of her other children had been a Slytherin.

She felt a frown form on her lips. She wished she could see Ron's face, but she wasn't sure what she might even find. She imagined his eyes bloodshot and his lips paled from a lack of sunlight. Of course, nothing stopped her from flooing into the headmaster's office. She could have visited him, and seen for herself what he had become. But… she didn't. Not just because she was worried about what she might find, but also because she was silently ashamed.

Ashamed that she could have been wrong. She had regretted sending him a letter, a viscous thing she had authored when her mind was muddled with fresh fear and intoxicating rage. Percy, who by all accounts was the perfect student, had written her in retort, his own letter a vicious condemnation. It wasn't anything she had ever heard from him before and it made her weep for two days straight. She didn't have the strength to write him back, too afraid that she had ruined her relationship with not just one of her children but two.

Of course, that wasn't the only letter she had written. She had sent one with a rented owl all the way to Romania to land in Charlie's hands. She still held bitterness for what he had done, going out of his way to take her son's to a place as dangerous and debauched as Knockturn Alley. It was perhaps the worst part of London, or at least, the worst part of London that any good witch might know about. And to buy a wand there? She could nearly faint. No doubt the money that Charlie had spent was being spread among the vile. Used to buy illegal ingredients or pay for some poor squib whore. She hardly stomached the thought.

Charlie had written her back too. His letter was not so vicious, but it too felt like someone had stuck her with a pin. She hadn't ruined their relationship, not yet, but only because he seemed not to know everything she had said to Ron. If so, she imagined that he would join the ranks of her sons who had already, in most likelihood, cast her aside. Percy had implied as such, and Ron had been sorted into Slytherin. She faced a rebellion that crushed her heart between a fist and refused to let it go.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of baking bread and her eyes threatened to water on the edges. She couldn't help but think that she had to do something.

As if someone had been listening to her thoughts, her attention was caught by a small knock on the kitchen window. She wiped away her fledgling tear and took off the wooden latch. The window swung open to reveal a beautiful tawny owl, one of the ones that belonged to Hogwarts, a small sealed scroll grasped in its tiny clutches.

She felt her heart pound as she took the scroll. It was usually assured that anything from Hogwarts would be for the twins, they were always getting into trouble. Sometimes it was professors who wrote for her permission for long punishments and other times it was just a list of their various activities. Activities which included breaking countless school rules and often sending her into a frizzy state. More than once had the lists been bad enough for her to write them howlers. And now, she swallowed, she had another concern. Ron, her son, a Slytherin. She couldn't imagine the things his list would say… the words it would say.

She broke the red wax seal and brought the paper level with her eyes. Her heart stopped as she read his name.

MRS WEASLEY,

I HAVE BEEN ASKED BY THE HEADMASTER TO INFORM YOU OF AN INCIDENT REGARDING YOUR SON RONALD. DUE TO UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES, RONALD WAS INJURED ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT. REST ASSURED, YOUR SON IS SAFE AND HAS MADE A RAPID RECOVERY. WE WOULD HAVE SOUGHT YOU OUT EARLIER IF THERE WAS SUFFICIENT CAUSE FOR CONCERN.

THE HEADMASTER WOULD LIKE TO DISCUSS THIS INCIDENT IN PERSON. HE WOULD INVITE YOU FOR A MEETING IN TWO DAYS TIME. SHOULD YOU BE UNABLE TO ATTEND THIS MEETING, PLEASE SEND A REPLY ANYTIME BEFORE THEN.

BEST WISHES,

MADAM POPPY POMFREY

MATRON OF HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

"An incident?" She whispered, her brow folding in on her eyes in a silent rage.

Something had happened to one of her sons and the headmaster hadn't told her? Dumbledore was a good man but he was a stubborn one. She could hardly believe he would not have her at the school at the earliest opportunity. Two whole days? She was tempted to march into the floo and push her way into his office. She could demand to see Ron and inspect his health for her own purposes. She knew Madam Pomfrey was a fine healer but she wasn't his mother.

She crumpled the small scroll in her hand and discarded it haphazardly into the sink.

She marched her way to the coat rack and threw a heavy long coat over her shoulders. It was the one she had just managed to patch yesterday, squares of red sewn into its black wool.

Ginny would be fine for a few hours, she reasoned. Her girl was strong like her and she felt no trouble leaving her alone. After all, she would be starting Hogwarts in a few months. And then, Molly thought bitterly, the house would be completely empty. She would be alone and cast aside by whatever adventures her children managed to get into. Sure, it would mean more time with Arthur but he spent so much of his day at the ministry…

Molly reached her hand into the vase of floo powder and let the gritted sand pool in her palm. She took a deep breath and brought the handful into the fireplace.

She hesitated and stopped entirely. What would she say to the headmaster? She couldn't help but feel like there was something Dumbledore expected of her. After all, he had requested a proper meeting, did that mean something? The headmaster was strange at times, never quite being truly spontaneous or pre-planned. He had an air about him that made him seem as if he was wise beyond the years he had. She frowned. Despite herself, Molly respected Dumbledore too much. She let the floor powder slip through her fingers, not bothering to say any words.

What would she say to Ronald? She had told him in entirety her thoughts on his sorting but that hadn't done her any good. It had only managed to drive Percy to his side, and create a distance that she would have never expected. She loved her children dearly, couldn't they see that? Couldn't they see how much they hurt her? Didn't he know what happened to her brothers? No, maybe they didn't. She bit her lip gingerly.

Molly made her way back to the cost rack and slipped the woollen coat off her shoulders, hanging it on one of the outstretched arms. Defeated, she retreated back to her usual spot in the kitchen. The tawny owl had taken its leave, the window still left open.

She caught herself staring at the crumpled scroll that now resided in one corner of the sink, a new thought racing over her mind.

Maybe it wasn't too late? Maybe she could lure her son back from whatever dark edge he had gravitated towards. After all, he was still theirs. He had her blood, and Arthur's eyes. Wasn't that enough? There had never been a Weasley in Slytherin before, she had to remind herself. And wasn't it her responsibility as his mother to keep him on the right track? Regardless of the mistakes he had undoubtedly already made? Love triumphed over hate, she was sure the headmaster would say.

She reached into one of the drawers and took a piece of parchment and her good quill.

RONALD,

MADAM POMFREY HAS WRITTEN TO ME AND I AM AWARE OF SOME SORT OF INCIDENT. PLEASE DO NOT GET IN ANY MORE TROUBLE, I BEG YOU. MY HEART CAN NOT TAKE IT. I'LL BE MEETING WITH DUMBLEDORE IN TWO DAYS TIME AND I WILL SEE YOU THEN.

I'M SORRY ABOUT THE LETTER I SENT YOU ON THE SECOND DAY OF SCHOOL. IT WAS AN OVERREACTION. YOUR FATHER AND I LOVE YOU VERY DEARLY EVEN IF YOU ARE A SLYTHERIN. WE ONLY WANT WHAT'S BEST FOR YOU DEAR. WE CAN HELP YOU MAKE THE BEST CHOICES.

WHEN YOU COME HOME NEXT I'LL BE SURE TO MAKE YOUR FAVOURITE. YOU CAN TELL ME ALL ABOUT YOUR SORTING AND WE CAN DISCUSS WHAT YOU SHOULD BE DOING NEXT.

YOUR FATHER, GINNY, AND I WILL BE GOING TO ROMANIA FOR CHRISTMAS TO VISIT CHARLIE. YOU WILL HAVE TO STAY AT NOT GET IN ANY TROUBLE!

I WILL SEND AN EXTRA TIN OF COOKIES FOR CHRISTMAS, WHICH YOU CAN SHARE WITH YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS.

REMEMBER NOT TO DISAPPOINT US.

LOVE YOUR MOTHER,

MOLLY WEASLEY

She looked down at her writing and let one end of her mouth tug upwards. She couldn't help but feel a massive pressure lift off of her shoulders. As if she had finally found the solution she was looking for. She couldn't exactly stop Ron from being a Slytherin, not without a proper resorting, but she could push him in the right direction. She was still his mother and he would have no choice but to listen.

Content, she peered into the oven at the slowly rising loaf of bread.

A/N - I apologise for my Canadian use of the word cookies... Oops