Who Killed Ronald Weasley?

Chapter 8
Molly Weasley
By Threesisters AKA Donovan
Beta\'d by CV


I can’t believe they have me in a cell…in a cell! When I get out of here, heads are going to roll, especially that Boadicea Basher. Why, I’ve known her since she was a bump under her mother’s apron!

Picking up the paper again, I re-read the article concerning my youngest son’s murder.

The family was unavailable for comment.

Since I am the family, and since at present I’m incarcerated in this dump of a cell, how am I supposed to bloody comment?

“Can anyone hear me? Mrs. Molly Weasley, Order of Merlin here! I would appreciate a pot of tea, and some cake--homemade cake…I dislike shop-brought. I also would like some knitting wool and needles…I need the soothing the click of the needles. I feel betrayed...and upset.” Oh dear, there’s a tear. “A hankie would be good, too!”

A small table appears with the pot of tea, a shop-bought ‘Just like homemade’ cake, and a single handkerchief. The young Auror guarding me must have been praying the cake would be all right; she’d probably heard that the Weasley family would be angry if their Mother wasn’t treated right.

I sip the tea--which was rather good, the cake is very dry. It didn’t crumble like homemade – still not bad, and I’m hungry, so I eat it.

Shame I could only afford, ‘Unlucky for some’ No.13, cheaper because of the stigma attached to the number, silly people who think that. Damn it! Why didn’t I go to the twins for some extra money? So used to going into Knockturn Alley and killing my own rats. I mean, you’ve only got to see the price of sewer rat livers to understand that being a savvy housewife, I always find and kill my own. Well, that way I know they’ll be fresh.

The only worry I’ve got is I left the knife, my personal sacrificial killing knife, near the body. How could I have been so stupid? Come to think of it, wiping the rats’ blood off the knife on Ron’s trousers wasn’t the most intelligent thing I have done either…I’ll just tell the truth. If they find out I was there in the alley, I’ll explain about the rats, and as for moving the body, well a Weasley couldn‘t be found dead in an alley, it just wouldn’t do, but I think I will keep that information for myself. Thankfully I remembered to obliviate Tom, such a dense man, but quite the charmer when I was a girl, I can tell you, and anyway - I don’t want to be accused of something I didn’t do now, do I?

That was one thing my waster of a son was ever so good at, getting the wrong end of the stick. He was forever accusing people of doing all sorts when they were just being kind. That poor boy Blaise Zabini, such a gentleman, came on the wrong side of my delightful son’s vivid imagination once. And he was only helping me dislodge a chicken bone I had stuck in my throat, the things my son did to him, and he hit me too. His mother!

Hold on, someone’s coming. Okay, Molly…time to put on the dotty housewife persona. My luck’s in! It’s the spotty, awkward young Auror who is opening the cell! She looks dreadful, like she’s embarrassed at having Molly Weasley, Merlin First Class, in a cell…and so she should be! She starts to speak to me; time for the play to begin.

“Mrs Weasley, the Chief Investigating Auror will see you now. I’m sorry, but I shall have to magically manacle you.”

“Oh you poor dear, don’t worry I understand, you must do what you have to, dear. I’m just so distressed, my baby boy is dead. As if I would ever do such a thing…I mean they should be talking to that Lucius Malfoy. I heard him with my own ears and saw him with my own eyes threaten my son only yesterday. Still, I doubt that would be looked into seeing who he is. Our family is not as notorious and wealthy as the Malfoys.” I said, carefully looking to see if the stupid young witch had taken in the information, smirking when I saw she had. I wiped another tear with the hankie she’d provided, just for the effect.

I’m put into a room with a desk, and magically recording quill and parchment; she’s not here yet. Keeping me waiting to try to unnerve me, I bet. She should remember the silly chit, that I waited years in the tension of Voldemort, pretending to be a worried and nervous Gryffindor. All the time wanting to cut the bastard’s balls off, fry them in oil, and feed them to Lucius-fucking-Malfoy. Now, finally, it seems as though I can fuck with Malfoy Senior with the help of the Ministry he ruled for years…yes, my dear, bring it on. Molly Weasley is ready for anything.

“Good morning, Mrs. Weasley, I trust you have been treated well? And that you have no complaints?” inquired Boadicea Basher. She was a curvy and buxom blonde, who had legs up to her armpits, looked like a right slut. I suddenly remembered why I hated her mother; she use to call me ‘dumpling’! Yes, it’s all coming back to me; however, I smile and give a little sob.

“I have no complaints, young Basher. Such a charming name, I knew your mother, you know? I think you were at school in the same year as Percy. Poor Percy, he went all Muggle on us you know, and joined these monks on the Isle of Sky…I believe he knits Fair Isle Jumpers now and makes Plum Brandy to sell to the tourists. Now, my…sorry, dear, I do tend to rattle on when it comes to my family. I’ll try to concentrate. You’ll want to talk about Ronald. I feel such a failure when it comes to my youngest boy – very big friend of Harry Potter’s you know, and he fought bravely with him in the war. Now I’m getting maudlin…how can I help you dear?” Feeling sure I’d given the perfect impression of a dotty old witch.

“Can you tell me what made you inform Hermione Granger that Ronald was cheating on her?” asked Basher, who added, “You realize, of course, that I will be recording this?”

“Well, of course, my dear, I understand. As for Hermione…well, I admit to telling her about my son’s traitorous behaviour towards her. Such a wonderful girl, marvellous witch, I had hoped that she would be a calming influence on Ronald. However, it was not to be. You might think I’m against Male-to-Male relationships but I’m not really, I understand the poor dears can’t help themselves; it’s all the rage now you know. I think the Muggle drugs turned Ronald…I may be wrong, but he never looked that way during school days, as far as I know. I gave Ronald an ultimatum, allowing him twenty-four hours in which to tell Hermione of his behaviour. He…well, I have to tell you…he spoke…well, I never knew he knew such words, the things he called us, his family. And he hit me! I’m afraid I acted on impulse and Flooed through to dear Hermione’s flat and just lost control. When I think back…well, that was an awful way for her to find out!” I said, smirking inside. She’s getting frustrated with me. Good!

“Mrs. Weasley, you state that you saw your son in an argument with Lucius Malfoy on the 30th August. Let the records state that Mrs Weasley made a statement prior to questioning, case file number 123b. Could you give me the location and the time when you saw them, please?” She’s watching me, trying to work me out.

“Now…I was only speaking my thoughts aloud to that young girl. I always speak too much when I’m worried or nervous, and being stuck in that cell, I didn’t realise I was making a statement dear. Well…..” I simpered, hesitating as though reluctant to involve anyone else. Yes, I’m definitely getting to her.

“Mrs Weasley, please answer the question!” she demands.

“What? Oh, yes! Lucius Malfoy…It was just outside of Ronald’s flat, which is strange on its own…after all, not the sort of place a Malfoy would be seen dead in…dead, oh dear, bad choice of words! Where was I…oh yes,” I was really starting to frustrate the bloody tart, she cast a smile at me, false bitch, and that mouth – she’d get two cocks in that I tell you. Hearing the sigh from the investigator I continue.

“I was going to check on Ronald; I wanted to see if he was prepared to go into the counselling that the twins offered to pay for. You know…to put an end to his silly and destructive ways. Well, Lucius Malfoy had his wand to his throat and I heard Ron say something like ‘I wouldn’t if I were you, I know too much,’ then Malfoy Senior said something like, ‘Death Eaters know many ways of silencing an enemy, and even more to dispose of them.’ I was going to go across, but both Apparated away. It must have been about two o’clock in the afternoon, because I got home in time to listen to What Every Witch Needs To Know on the Wizarding Wireless, and that starts just after two.”

“Did you happen to see your son again after that incident on October 30th?”

“No, my dear. That was the last time and I didn’t even get to speak to him then. Knowing he’s dead, without having the chance to clear the air with him it’s just,” sigh and pause, Molly, “It’s heartbreaking. I can only hope he’s happier where he is now.” Hopefully in Hell, you bastard! Bringing your family’s name down like this!

“Now is that all, dear? Because I started a potion yesterday, it’s what I was doing all day, and it might be getting rather unstable any time now, so I would really like to go home.” I think it’s because that the illegal firewhiskey I’m distilling could just could blow up the neighbourhood, so, come on…let me go.

“I’m not entirely satisfied with your statement, Mrs.Weasley; I am therefore going to keep you in the cells for another twenty-four hours. Miss Jones, please escort Mrs. Weasley back to her cell.” She is looking at me as though she thinks I know more than I’m making out. Back to the cells! I am going to murder someone soon if I’m kept much more. What does she want with me? How much more does she know?

Many thanks to Scully also.