LINE THEFT, MURDER + CONSPIRACRY!
By Rita Skeeter
And once again the Wizarding World is shaken by Albus Dumbledore and the Weasley family’s atrocious actions. And this time it is for one of the Wizarding World’s greatest Taboo – line theft, the stealing of magical bloodlines.
On the 23rd of June Whitehead’s Private Healing Practice in Lancashire was broken into. And a vial of semen was stolen, presumed to be used for the purpose of committing line theft. The victim at that point refused to be named and no leads were to be found.
Then on the sixth of August Arthur, Molly, Ronald and Ginevra Weasley were taken in for questioning due to their close ties with Albus Dumbledore (after Albus Dumbledore fled, escaping being arrested for conspiracy to commit murder).
Madam Bones of the DMLE called an emergency session of the Wizengamot (something which has not been done since the fall of You Know, which should tell us all of the seriousness of Albus Dumbledore’s crimes and threat for the future. We should all hope that Albus Dumbledore is caught before any more deaths can occur. Minister of Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge has this to say:
“I would like to reiterate to all, of the importance of coming forward if anyone should know anything lest we have another tragedy like that of The Three Chasers. If anyone sees Albus Dumbledore they should immediately report it to the DMLE. The public are warned please to not approach him, he is considered to be armed and dangerous.”
Yesterday, we can only presume after Mr and Mrs Weasley were allowed to be questioned under Veritaserum Ginevra Weasley was arrested for first class line theft. What could push such a young girl to have done something so vile? Well, this reporter has seen the records stating that Miss Ginevra and Mr Ronald Weasley were removed from their parents. Did Molly and Arthur Weasley force their child into committing this atrocious act?
Well, just as we start to feel pity for Miss Ginevra Weasley it should be noted that her father has only been charged with second class line theft. This means he knew that the father was not informed but was unaware of the fact that it was anything but a child from a normal copulation.
Molly Weasley, however, was also charged with first class line theft. It should here by noted that prior to the birth of her first (former) son was a trained Mediwitch. Thus, she would have the practical skills needed to successfully artificially inseminate her teenaged daughter. So, was Molly Weasley behind this horrible crime? Arthur Weasley has also filed for divorce which further suggests that he did not know that was going on in his home.
Currently, the DMLE has refused to answer any questions on the matter the line theft or who the victim is. But it should be noted that Ginevra Weasley was seen being led out of the Ministry by none other than Lord Marcus Flint (see picture) so this reporter wrote a missive to Lord Flint and received this response.
“Dear Miss Skeeter,
I am much aggrieved to say that I am the victim of the heinous crime. I do request that the press honour my wish for privacy.
Kind Regards
Lord Marcus Flint”
So, there we have it – the Weasleys committed line theft against Lord Marcus of the Ancient and Noble House of Flint. Why would the Weasleys do this when they were already facing so many charges?
This reporter alleges that it is because they were caught for their other crimes. After all, the Weasleys have lost their source of money – Hadrian Salazar Slytherin – they would be looking for another source of gold that being the unlawful guardians of a wealthy heir (and thus in charge of their heir vaults) would bring.
On another note Molly Weasley has also been charged with first class murder of her brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were believed to have been killed by Death Eaters in 1976. Yet now it seems that this is not what happened. Why would then Heiress Molly Weasley do something so heinous to ones that she should have loved.
And we should think hard on what it means that Molly Weasley, a Light witch and a member of Albus Dumbledore’s order of the phoenix is the true culprit behind Fabian and Gideon Prewett’s deaths. Given what we now know of what Dumbledore and his followers are willing to do to defeat their enemies, does this mean that there could be more deaths attributed to the Dark side which could in fact be the work of Albus Dumbledore and his people?
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Albus Dumbledore made his way to the nearest Wizarding pub that he knew would have a copy of the Daily Prophet, whilst wearing a simple glamour. It was the only way to keep up with the news in the Wizarding World when he couldn’t contact his allies who were sure to be under watch by the Auror office by now. Albus gritted his teeth at the annoyance that he had to put up to. How had Voldemort managed to outmanoeuvre him so easily?
It was all the boy’s fault!
‘Your usual, Traianus?’ asked the elderly bartender.
‘Thanks,’ Albus said. ‘Do you have a copy of the paper.’
‘You really do need to get an owl order set up,’ chuckled the man.
Albus snorted, ‘it’s still going to my old place … I keep meaning to get updated … but it just slips my mind.’
The bartender chuckles, ‘that’s old age for you.’
‘Quite,’ agreed Albus.
Albus unfurled the Daily Prophet to see a large photo of Ginny Weasley in magic-restraining cuffs being led out of the Ministry by Lord Marcus Flint, under the headline LINE THEFT, MURDER AND CONSPIRACY. Ginny had been found out – now what? The infant would be raised by either his tyrannical grandfather or his treacherous father (and possibly Lucius Malfoy). There was only one thing for it – he would have to come out of hiding to rescue Ginny Weasley, he should never have left her, get her somewhere safe – maybe in Europe.
Then Albus actually read the article and realised how utterly duped he had been. Severus … Severus had lied to him! He had believed his anger and grief and love for Lily, but Severus hadn’t been his since the truth about the Slytherin brat’s heritage came out. He clutched the paper tight in his hand trying to keep his anger from showing. Apparently, unsuccessfully because the old barkeep let out a disgusted noise.
‘I know, it’s horrible what they did,’ he said. ‘Used to believe in Dumbledore … thought he stood for us Muggleborns … but he’s no better than You Know Who, if you ask me.’
Nobody had asked him, but Albus nodded his agreement anyway as he pretended to read the rest of the paper. There was a small obituary for Severus Snape. Dumbledore twisted his lips in disgust. Of course, Voldemort would have had his loyal follower killed rather than risk Severus spilling any of his secrets.
But now what did he do? The Weasleys were of no use to him, not anymore. But he still needed control of the Hadrian Slytherin’s vaults and seats. Luckily for him the Slytherin brat had done the hard work for him and got himself knocked. He would just have to wait until the foetus could survive without his mother, get rid of the Slytherins and the Malfoys and take the child for himself. Maybe this time he would raise the brat himself. After all, leaving it to others had never worked out.
Until then he would have to remain in hiding.
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Molly Weasley was lying on her bed in her cell ... everything was quiet … she couldn’t hear any sound of her family (or other prisoners). Accused were kept in the Ministry until they were convicted (or acquitted) due to people feeling that non-convicts should not be subjected to the Dementors at Azkaban until it was proved they were guilty. Of course, Albus and Crouch had changed that law during the war due to the dangers Death Eater scum posed. Naturally, after the war Lucius Malfoy and his ilk reversed that. Molly had been furious about that at the time but was now relieved at that.
Molly had spent the past few days listening for any sounds of Dumbledore. Molly knew that Albus would come to save him. Albus had always been there for him – had offered her a solution to her brothers’ curse and had given her income when her family had abandoned her, and Arthur had shown himself to be unable to effectively provide a decent quality of life for Molly and her babies. Albus would not abandon her, her family, husband, children may do so but Albus Dumbledore never would!
‘Breakfast, step away from the door,’
Molly sighed … the only interesting part of the day was when her meals were delivered. Breakfast was best because they gave her a copy of the Daily Prophet. That was all the entertainment that Molly got all day.
Molly got up and grimaced at the lumpy porridge, curled toast and sad apple that was all she got for breakfast. But before she could even attempt to convince herself to eat it, Molly saw the newspaper. More importantly the picture of Ginny on the frontpage.
Molly knew that Ginny, like Molly had been charged with first-degree line theft. Molly didn’t remember actually going through with the line-theft. But she had been informed that there were witnesses to say she was involved – probably her traitorous children and soon to be ex-husband. She knew from Healer Finnigan that she had been Obliviated so she could not trust her own memories.
Molly knew that they must have succeeded in gaining semen from Hadrian Slytherin. Molly was pleased that it had been done, but furious that they had been caught. How had that happened? Nobody should have known.
But now as she read the Daily Prophet, she realised that it had all been for nothing! Somehow, they had failed … Ginny was pregnant with Lord Marcus Flint’s child, not Hadrian Slytherin’s. Molly screamed, ripped the newspaper up, threw her breakfast tray at the wall watching as the porridge slid down the door. But she didn’t stop, she beat her hands against the door until her hands were bloody and she was leaning exhausted against the door. But it did not good, no one came, and the door refused to budge. Molly slid down and leaned against the door as sobs wracked her body.
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Elaine brought up her and her mother’s breakfast and their copy of todays Daily Prophet. It should have shocked her more that her sister who was almost ten years older than her had committed line theft. But after finding Fabian and Gideon that day … Elaine blinked away tears at that particular memory. She had been so young to see something so horrible even if it hadn’t been her big sister who had done it.
‘Elaine,’ smiled her mother (but the sadness was there). ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Not well,’ admitted Elaine.
Elaine had dreamt of finding her brothers. Of Molly. Of Molly turning on her. Of finding her father, mother dead on the floor. Elaine reminded herself that it wasn’t real, that her father had died of dragon pox four years ago and her mother was still here (even if she had been severely weakened by her own bout of dragon pox). And Molly was now in prison where she could never hurt anyone else ever again. Now, maybe finally after nineteen years Elaine could finally heal.
‘What about you?’ asked Elaine.
‘No, not well,’ Isolde voice soft and raspy.
After, Isolde’s battle with dragon-pox Elaine had elected to become her carer. Elaine had been a Healer at St. Mungo’s since she was in her twenties, enjoyed her job which she had quit to look after her mother – it wasn’t like she needed the money the Prewetts had plenty. Of course, that meant they had enough money to pay for a private mediwitch but after Molly they were left feeling wary of people. After all, if their own sister could do something so terrible how could they trust strangers?
It made courting difficult, because Isolde had been taught not to trust people, but she knew as the last of her line she was expected to marry and produce heirs. But more than just duty Elaine wanted to find love and have a family.
‘I wonder how the Morants are taking it,’ Elaine said.
They may have walked away and legally disowned themselves from the Weasleys, but Elaine knew from personal experience that heart was different to the laws. To this day Elaine had a dissonance between the big sister who helped her with her spells, and the murderer who took her big brothers from her. The Morants must have felt the same, but they were smarter than the Prewetts had been. If they had taken Molly’s rants about the twins more seriously maybe they would still be here.
‘Get me parchment,’ Isolde said.
Elaine blinked confused.
‘I think I would like to meet my grandchildren,’ Isolde said.
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Ron awoke to the smell of bacon floating up from the kitchen. Naturally, Ron was downstairs within minutes. Ron felt his heart twist painfully as he watched Euphie curl up in his chair reading just like Hermione once would have. Eggy was fidgeting, he had been talking loudly to Euphie … but went quiet when Ron walked in – Ron had the distinct impression that Egnatius didn’t like him. A grinning Tro and Uncle Cadmus were at the stove baking and chatting a mile a minute.
‘So, what are you boys going to be doing today?’ asked Uncle Cadmus.
‘I’m going to meet up with my friends in Diagon Alley, remember Dad,’ Euphie rolled his eyes. ‘Julius Horn is doing a book signing.’
Cadmus chuckled, ‘I remember, Euphie.’
And there was the twist of his gut again as he acted like Hermione once again. Ron wondered if Hermione was still alive if she would be going to. Ron couldn’t remember Hermione ever mentioning a Julius Horn … but maybe he just wasn’t paying attention. He should have paid her more attention … whilst he still could … maybe if he had done, he could have realised she was in danger, been there, stopped Slytherin, saved her.
That thought hurt and the hurt made him feel angry … he wanted to hurt someone. Looking around at the smiling faces he just wanted them to stop. How dare they smile like that when she would never smile again.
‘Bet, horny is a fraud,’ Ron said sharply. ‘How did a nerd like you ever get into Gryffindor?’
Euphie’s face fell at that point – he looked like he was about to cry. Ron realised that like Slytherin Euphie’s status as a Gryffindor was a sensitive subject – Dumbledore had said Slytherin had asked to be a Gryffindor – had Euphie asked too? At fist Ron felt at first a sense of elation at making someone else hurt like he was hurting. But the watery eyes of his little cousin just a few months younger than Ginny made him feel … tight and uncomfortable inside.
‘Ron,’ Uncle Cadmus said firm. ‘There is nothing wrong with enjoying books … and being brave, being a Gryffindor is a matter of choosing to be so, not hurting others to make yourself feel better.’
Ron flushed but before he could formulate an argument Tro had turned around on his stool.
Tro grinned, ‘can I go too?’
Trophimos Weasley idolised his big brother, much like Ron had done with Bill when they were younger. Euphemios, however, like Percy found Tro annoying and irritating and loud when he just to be left alone to read. Ron, however, found rambunctious Tro Weasley to be the best of the bunch.
‘No,’ Euphie said flatly. ‘You’re too young!’
Tro pouted, ‘I’m almost eleven! I’ll be going to Hogwarts soon.’
‘Not for another year,’ argued back Euphie.
‘Tro, you are too young to be going into Diagon Alley without an adult,’ Uncle Cadmus interjected firmly before Tro could answer back. ‘Euphie, you are to carry your Mirror on you at all times … call me on the hour – or I will come searching for you. And be back for four o’clock. Stay with your friends, do not go anywhere with people you don’t know, and do not go anywhere near Knockturn Alley!’
‘Yes, Dad,’ Euphie rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not stupid!’
‘I know,’ Cadmus said softly. ‘I’m probably being paranoid … your mother and I do worry about you so.’
Ron recognised that look from his parents. It was the look of all those who had lived through The War. The look of one who had survived a time that whenever you said goodbye to your relatives you said so knowing you may never see them again. That thought left Ron feeling a curl at hate in his gut at You Know Who for bringing such evil and terror to the whole world. Dumbledore was right he had to be stopped no matter what it takes. Ron steeled himself for the fight that he knew was coming even if the rest of the Wizarding World was too cowardly to do anything about it!
‘Tro, I’m sure you, Ron, Eggy and I can find something fun to do,’ Uncle Cadmus said gently.
Aunt Sepphora was a part-time magizooligist who worked Thursdays and Fridays at the Cambrian Dragon Preserve in Wales. Uncle Cadmus as the owner of his own business had a bit more leeway on what owers he worked; he was in the shops Mondays to Wednesdays and worked on enchantment projects on the weekends. This allowed him and Aunt Sepphora to manage childcare between themselves quite effectively.
‘We could go and play Quidditch,’ suggested Ron quickly.
Ron tried desperately not to think of the humiliating match at Hogwarts. He knew he wasn’t anywhere as near as good as his older brothers who had all (apart from Percy) been on the Quidditch team by the time they were his age, but that had really rubbed in the fact. Still, they were traitors – he was the one loyal Weasley boy.
‘Can we dad, please,’ Tro said.
Eggy nodded quickly (which was about the most animated he had been with anything to do with Ron).
‘I don’t see why not,’ Uncle Cadmus smiled.
‘YAY!’ squealed Tro.
‘Be careful,’ warned Uncle Cadmus catching the pan with his wand.
Ron was feeling lighter than he had in days. He missed his parents, sister, brothers (even Percy) and every reminder of Hermione sent a painful twist in his heart. Yet, it wasn’t too bad here even if his Aunt and Uncle did think he had been abused and Eggy seemed to think he was going to start breathing fire at any time (although given that he was as obsessed as Charlie was with dragons, he’d probably like that).
But that all changed when the black post owl delivered the Daily Prophet. Ron’s heart constricted when he saw the pale visage of his little sister being led out in handcuffs by a tall, heavy set, elderly wizard that Ron didn’t recognise. Ron grabbed it up from the table before Uncle Cadmus could stop him.
‘Boys don’t you think it’s time to get dressed,’ Uncle Cadmus said.
‘But I haven’t had breakfast,’ Tro complained.
‘Is this about Uncle Arthur?’ asked Euphie shutting his book. ‘Come on Tro, we can eat in my bedroom.’
‘Thank you, Euphie,’ murmured Uncle Cadmus. ‘Ron, I’m not going to stop you from reading – you have a right to know what’s going on … but its not going to be pleasant.’
Ron scowled as he read Fudge’s warnings about Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the greatest man ever to live how dare Fudge treat him like … like Death Eater scum. Mum was right about the kind of man Cornelius Fudge was.
Ron gritted his teeth as Skeeter spoke absolute bile about his mum. She had never harmed them not once! And now the Daily Prophet was acting like she was some kind of monster. Mum had done everything she could do to provide a safe and happy world for them, including killing her own brothers whom she loved and now Skeeter was twisting it making her into a monster.
Ron was shaking with rage, ‘HOW DARE THEY! THEY MAKE MUM LOOK LIKE A MONSTER! SHE JUST WANTED TO MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE FOR US!’
‘By murdering her own family?’ asked Uncle Cadmus asked red eyebrows shooting up in alarm.
‘Urgh, you don’t understand,’ snapped Ron.
Ron stormed out of the room closing the door with such a loud bang that the photos on the wall shook. Ron scowled as Tro popped his head out from behind the door (and then was pulled back probably by Euphie). Ron didn’t know what to do – he wanted to rage and shout and hurt someone … he felt so confused. Everything hade made so much sense before but now he didn’t know what to do. Uncle Cadmus followed him in and that was enough for Ron to lose it.
‘WHAT DO YOU WANT!’ shouted Ron. ‘ARE YOU HEAR TO TELL ME THAT I’M LIKE A DEATH EATER AGAIN! WELL, YOU DON’T NEED TO – THE BLOODY PROPHET HAS ALREADY DONE THAT!!! I HATE YOU!’
Uncle Cadmus didn’t react, ‘no, Ron, I’m here because I’m worried about you.’
Ron snorted, ‘then, where were you? We barely saw you!’
Uncle Cadmus made his way across the room and grasped Ron in a tight hug. Ron still felt angry, confused and hurt but this had been the first time someone had held him since everything had gone so very wrong. Ron tried to keep it in … to be strong … but somehow, he found himself shaking with tears into the uncle he had never known’s arms.
‘I love your father … he was my big brother and I adored him growing up,’ Uncle Cadmus said gently. ‘I didn’t like you mother much, but I accepted her because your dad loved her. But your mother didn’t let us see much of you. We would have loved to see more of you. I know it really hurt my parents that whenever they tried to organise a dinner your family was never there.’
‘No, she wouldn’t … family was important to her …’ Ron shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t have pushed you away, not unless there was a very good reason.’
Uncle Cadmus sighed, ‘family was important to your mother only if they were doing as she said and if they didn’t, she would cut them out of the picture, in one way or another. And your mother couldn’t risk you being exposing you to outside influences … to other ways of thinking … and she needed her voice to be the only one you knew.’
Ron shook his head not believing a word his Uncle said.
‘Just go,’ Ron said. ‘Please.’
But Uncle Cadmus did not go.
‘I know this is painful,’ Uncle Cadmus said. ‘More painful than I can understand. And I know you are not ready to hear, much less accept the truth … but I’m here for you, you are family.’
Ron swallowed, ‘I just want everything to go back to the way it was.’
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The next evening after Bones had revealed that their mother was more horrible than Bill could ever imagine the Morant brothers were seated in Bill’s living room. Fred and George were beginning to look less like themselves … but they were still reeling from the shock (they all were). Percy had brought home a copy of today’s Prophet which naturally had their parents and sister’s crimes plastered across the front.
‘They didn’t mention Fred and George,’ Charlie said.
‘Thank Merlin for small mercies,’ muttered Percy.
‘No, they wouldn’t,’ agreed Bill. ‘After all, it’s not illegal to think about killing someone as long as she wasn’t plotting, they can’t prove that she would have tried. And with all the other charges she is facing – double murder, first-degree line-theft, amongst others – she is likely to get the Kiss anyway, so there is little point in going into what she might have done.’
‘I don’t think there’s any might about it,’ George said.
Neither did Bill which left him feeling sick to the stomach. Molly Weasley had done many horrible things but it was all in the name of defeating her enemies … whether it was right or wrong was besides the point. But this … How could she kill her brothers? How could she even think about killing her children? Bill didn’t have any children, but he knew he loved all his siblings and would rather die than ever think about harming them. Yet, Mum had been willing to kill her brothers, to kill Fred and George, because she hated the Dark side more than she loved them.
‘You know it’s not your fault right,’ Percy said crinkling his forehead.
‘We know,’ George said.
‘It’s hers,’ Fred said bitterly.
There was really nothing more that could be said about that because it was Molly’s fault. And she had damned their father to Azkaban and Ginny to a fate worse than death. Bill wanted to believe that the Wizengamot would have mercy on her … but given that she had committed line theft on one of their own Bill very much doubted it.
‘What do you think will happen to Ginny and Ron?’ asked Charlie.
Percy drew a breath, ‘Ginny has been charged … if she escapes with life in Azkaban she will be very, very lucky. And as for Ron let’s hope he keeps his head down and no further evidence comes up to incriminate him.’
‘Fat chance,’ muttered Fred.
‘Ron’s never had-‘George continued.
‘-much sense,’ finished Fred.
‘If any of them had they wouldn’t be in the mess they are in now,’ Percy said darkly.
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Nineteen-year-old Marcus Flint was in Paris celebrating his birthday in an upscale Parisian Bar – La Sorciere. His father had stopped providing for him when he had graduated, and Marcus had not made any move to apply himself as his father said. Marcus and his father had naturally argued violently about this. Marcus had stormed out of the manor, claiming he was going to explore to learn more of the wider Wizarding world, something that his father encouraged and supported although his allowance was limited to just six thousand galleons a year. Today was his birthday, when his personal vault was at its fullest.
‘What’s your name sweetheart?’
Marcus was trying to pick up a pretty French witch who didn’t even give him a time of the day.
‘Bitch,’
Maybe she didn’t speak English. That was the only reason anyone could resist a handsome young pureblooded Heir to an Ancient and Noble House. She was probably a Mudblood, or a creature Merlin knows France had a more tolerant attitude to beasts like that. How else would a half-giant be able to become the Headmistress?
He was just about to go after her, but then a few words reached his hears.
‘Seigneur Marcus Flint … voldeligne …’
Marcus frowned recognising his name and twisted around to see a drop-dead gorgeous witch. He didn’t know what she had said but she was clearly interested in him so naturally Marcus made a beeline to the witch. She stared at him with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
‘Bonjour, madameoiselle,’ Marcus smiled checking her out. ‘I heard you talking about me?’
‘Non,’ the witch said.
Marcus scowled and then smiled, ‘ah playing hard to get … but I heard you mention me – I am Marcus Flint.’
‘Tu es Marcus Flint … non Marcus Flint est vieux …’
Marcus rolled his eyes, ‘I don’t speak French. Do you speak English?’
The witch sneered at him, ‘you are in France.’
Marcus rolled his eyes, ‘what’s the point, everyone speaks English anyway.’
The witch’s eyes flashed, ‘tu es un anglais impoli … and you are not Lord Marcus Flint – he is old, and dignified.’
‘You know my father?’ asked Marcus surprised.
The girl laughed harshly, ‘non … he is in the l’oracle.’
Now that Marcus knew – it was the name of the most popular French newspaper. What had Dad done to get in the paper? If it harmed his inheritance, he would kill him. Although maybe something had happened, and he could claim Lordship a lot earlier than he had thought he would be.
‘I see why Seigneur Flint has … taken-in the child of theft-of-blood when the other option is you,’ she sneered.
She turned leaving Marcus Flint gaping after her. The child of stolen blood … that meant line theft. If she was right, then his father had been the victim of line theft and had now taken the child in. If that was the case Marcus was in trouble as his father was already disappointed in him. If he had another child, then he would no longer need Marcus. It was doubtful Marcus would be disowned but he would lose his inheritance … and his father might stop paying him his stipend. Marcus couldn’t stomach that.
It was time to go home.