Late at night, in the kitchen of the Order of the Phoenix headquarters.
Mrs. Weasley stared blankly at the freshly made cup of hot chocolate, lost in thought. "What's wrong, Molly?"
Mr. Weasley draped the cloak in his hands over his wife's shoulders and asked with a frown.
Mrs. Weasley's shoulders trembled slightly. She turned to look at her husband and lowered her voice. "They really did that?"
Molly simply could not accept that her sons were doing such things.
"You know very well what the British magical world is like. If this Wizarding War continues, they'll all have to face it sooner or later." Arthur knew what his wife was worried about and gently reassured her. "Don't worry, they'll be fine. You should trust Albert. That boy is steady and doesn't like taking risks."
"No, I just..."
Molly set down her cup, her voice trembling. "I just... think it's wrong. You know, I really don't want them to... kill people."
She knew very well what her children were like.
Though Fred and George were mischievous troublemakers, they were still good people.
Yet ever since they had proposed that shocking plan, Molly had been overwhelmed by unease. She simply could not understand why Fred and George had become so extreme. She feared they would embark on a path of no return, and feared even more that it would haunt their futures.
"No one likes killing, but... sometimes, if you don't kill others, they'll kill you. We're not Dumbledore, after all. We can't be like him..."
Mr. Weasley's lips twitched slightly. He knew how laughable Molly's thoughts were, but he could only soothe her in a soft voice.
Molly was his wife, after all. Arthur knew his wife was not a naive woman; it was only because this involved her sons