A/N: I am back with another story! I know I should be working on my other stories in progress, but this story popped into my head one night (4/20/11 to be exact, long story as to why I ended up sitting in my friends' room at school writing fanfiction to get my mind off of things at 4 am that day) and I loved the idea. Coincidentally; that was also the night that I started working on the Missing Moments series, but none of this is the point right now.

I ending up writing this because I really love Arthur's character and his relationship with Ron has always fascinated me. Ron being his youngest son, always being in the thick of things, and always in the line of fire has got to be a lot for a parent to deal with. Also, within the book, we really only tend to hear from Molly, so I thought it was time to give Arthur a chance. So this story will focus on Arthur and Ron through each year of the series and all that goes on. The plan right now is for a year a chapter, but I think 6th and 7th year may require more than one, but I shall cross that bridge when I come to it.

Vale. So, without further ado, enjoy the first chapter of my new favorite work in progress, and the longest single chapter I have ever written without text from the books! But first,

Disclaimer: I do not own it. I have never, nor will I ever. If I did, I would have to leave Spain in 3 weeks knowing I will probably never make it back here...

Year One: Why?

Arthur Weasley remembers very clearly the first time that he was informed by Hogwarts that his youngest son had been injured in a perilous situation. He could recall the blind panic and barely contained fury. How could Dumbledore have let this happen? How could three first year students find out what was being hidden in the depths of the school and take it upon themselves to protect it without a single teacher ever finding out? Wasn't the point of school for their children to learn what they would need for later in life? How were they supposed to prepare for life after Hogwarts if they were getting themselves into life threatening situations in their first year?

Arthur had already sent his first five sons to Hogwarts, two of which had already graduated and were moving on with their lives, and they worst that had happened to any of them were quidditch injuries. But here was his youngest son, only in his first year, getting himself hurt sacrificing himself to save his friends during a game of life-sized chess. If Arthur was honest with himself, he was extremely proud of his son. He was proud that he had the courage to do what he felt had to be done, but at the same time terrified. His willingness to not only help his friends, but to sacrifice himself for them had the potential to be disastrous if the three of them ended up in any more trouble in the future, and somehow Arthur had a feeling that these three would end up in trouble again at one point. His anger was beyond words, but he managed to find some, which he yelled and paced in the kitchen while his wife sobbed. Arthur Weasley was a man who rarely yelled, but the safety of his child was something worth becoming incensed by. He did not realize how loud he had been venting his frustrations until he noticed a little wide-eyed red headed girl in a pink dressing gown peering down at the kitchen from the stairway. He immediately felt his temper deflate like a balloon,

"Ginny," he said softly, "come down here."

She obliged her brown eyes still wide and scared. When she drew closer he stooped down to hug her,

"I'm sorry I woke you sweetheart."

His little 10 year old daughter snuggled into the embrace and asked hesitantly,

"What are you so angry about Dad?"

"Just something that has happened Gin."

His youngest hesitated for a few moments before asking hesitantly, "Dad, is Ron going to be okay?"

Arthur closed his eyes briefly. Apparently she had been listening for a while. Not how he would have chosen for her to find out.

"Yes dear, he is going to be just fine. He was just hurt a little, but he was doing something very brave."

"What was he doing?"

"He was helping Harry Potter."

Despite all of the worries, Arthur had to inwardly suppress a small chuckle as he watched his daughter's chocolate brown eyes widen to the size of saucers, "Ron really knows Harry Potter?"

This time Arthur did chuckle, juts slightly, "of course he does Ginny. Didn't he tell you that in all of his letters?"

Ginny shrugged, "I thought he was trying to trick me."

"Ron wouldn't do that to you Ginny, he cares about you too much."

"So all of his stories are true?"

"Yes Ginny, they are."

Her eyes lit up like a thousand lumoses, and Arthur smiled. He gave her another hug, and passed her off to Molly who gave her a kiss and went off to tuck her into bed. He smiled wearily as he watched his wife and daughter heading up the stairs, and then returned himself to the present topic at hand.

For now, there was nothing to do. Ron had been thoroughly examined by Poppy Pomfrey and had been allowed to continue on with his everyday life at Hogwarts. Arthur knew that the injury was a minor one, nothing to worry about under the exceptional care of Poppy. His son would be fine, and all of his children would be back from school in a few days. All he could do now was wait.

Less than a week later, Arthur apparated to the gate of the Burrow and paused to gaze at it. There was much more chatter in the air, a clear indication that his children had returned home from Hogwarts. He smiled to himself as he pushed open the gate and strode up the path. He had barely made it halfway when Ginny came flying out to meet him. Arthur braced himself for impact as a small red headed comet it him.

"Dad they're back! They're all home! Percy and Fred and George and Ron! They're here! Come and see them!"

Arthur chuckled and allowed himself to get led into his house by his very impatient daughter. Once he cleared the kitchen door he was surrounded by a larger swarm of red heads. There were hugs all around for all of his boys, even Percy who declared that he was "much too old for that Father", and a seemingly endless cacophonous cloud of stories, news, and gossip.

The commotion continued straight through dinner until the last tart had been eaten and all the plates were clear. Molly began to clear the dishes, but after placed a hand on her arm to stop her. "Molly, let me do it. You have done enough already."

She gave him a weary smile, "Alright dear. Ron, why don't you stay here and help your father. The rest of you, I want you up in your rooms unpacking. Go on."

Arthur smiled at her over the scrapping of chairs and footsteps on the stairs. He had a feeling Molly knew of his desire to talk to Ron. Try as he might, he couldn't hide anything from her. Once all of his other sons had traipsed upstairs to their prospective trunks, with a bouncing Ginny in their wake, Arthur stood and began to gather the dishes, Ron following suit. He waited until the first dish had been washed and Ron was drying it before speaking, "How'd you like Hogwarts?"

A reminiscent smile appeared on Ron's face before he answered, "It was great. 'Course not the homework and all that, but everything else…" he trailed off and his smile grew larger.

Arthur chuckled. "Tell me more about these friends of yours. Harry and Hermione?"

His face brightened even more as he began to describe studious, serious, brilliant, kind Hermione and daring, brave, funny, stubborn Harry. He rushed on to say that he had hope to invite Harry to come and stay this summer, and how Hermione had threatened to never let him borrow her notes again if he didn't write her over the holiday. The stack of soiled dished had depleted considerably by the time Ron had finished. Arthur decided that it was time to bring up what had been on his mind.

"Ron, what happened towards the end of term? I got a letter from Professor McGonagall, but I would like to hear it from you as well."

The smile slipped off of Ron's face. He studied the dish in his hand for a moment, watching as he water dripped off of it onto the floor. "It all started I guess," he began, "when Malfoy challenged Harry to a duel…"

With that he began the tale. Arthur put down the dish he had been washing and leaned against the counter, facing his youngest son. He held his tongue through all of the near misses and dangerous happening, knowing that if he stopped his son now, he would never get to hear the end of the tale. When Ron reached the chess chamber though, Arthur could not stop the pain at hearing of his son's ordeal from showing on his face. After he relayed the part with the opposing Queen striking him across the head with her stone arm, Ron trailed off.

"After that, I really don't know what happened," he admitted with a frown, "I remember coming around to Hermione trying to wake me up, but she was alone. I asked her where Harry was and she almost started crying. She told me that he had gone on his own. I just know that I was terrified. I didn't think that Harry would be able to hold his own against Snape, well at the time at least I thought it was Snape. I wanted to go after him to help, but Hermione explained to me about the potion, and how there had only been enough for one to go on, and if we wanted to help we had to run to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore. So she helped me up, and we ran towards the owlery. On our way there, we ran into Dumbledore heading towards the corridor. When he saw me and Hermione, he stopped and said, "Harry's gone after him hasn't he?", then he rushed down the corridor we had just come from. I don't really remember what happened after that either, because Hermione dragged me to the hospital wing and Pompfrey made me spend the night, I only know that I woke up at one point, and Harry was in the bed next to me, completely knocked out. Pompfrey told me he would be okay, and then gave me more potion to make me sleep. The next morning she told me I could go, but Harry didn't even wake up for another two days. The same morning I was in the hospital wing we lost the quidditch cup, obviously as there was no chance of us winning without Harry, but we still managed to win the house cup with all of the points that Dumbledore gave Harry, Hermione, Neville, and me last minute. Then we packed up and left."

Arthur remained where he was, leaned up against the sink, clutching the dish rag so tightly that he was wringing it out and it was beginning to form a pool of water by his feet yet he took no notice. He simply stared down at his youngest son, who now, at the conclusion of his tale was looking a bit pink around the ears, and was busing himself with the remaining dishes, determinably avoided his father's gaze. He was having trouble processing. Three-headed dogs, dragons, gargantuan devil's snare, life-size chess pieces…it was all too much. All of a sudden it rushed over him with the force of a typhoon and the dish towel sailed to the floor as he enfolded his son in a hug that almost rivaled one of Molly's. After receiving the owl from Dumbledore about the incident with the chess piece, Arthur had thought that he knew what the sheer panic of almost losing a child was like. Yet after hearing the full extent of the year, he know realized that he had come within a hair's breadth of losing his youngest son nearly half a dozen times without even knowing it. The thought terrified him, and he clutched Ron even harder knowing that he had almost lost him. After a few moments, he released Ron, who stepped back and glanced down at the floor, his ears so red they were nearly invisible amongst his hair. The sight was one Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at, which was a welcome relief after the past few minutes of intensity. At the sound of his laughter, Ron glanced up and smiled, the redness of his ears depleting gradually.

With the tension broken, they returned to the dishes and worked in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes. After he had washed the last dish and passed it to Ron to dry, he turned to face him again, debating whether or not to ask the question that had been rolling around his mind for the past few minutes. Further deliberation was ceased however when he blurted it out; "Why did you do it?"

He saw the towel falter on the last dish as Ron heard the question. "Er, sorry?" he replied.

"The chess game. Why did you let the queen take you? Surely you could have figured out another way?"

Ron simply shrugged, "Because I had too. I may have been able to come up with another move, but it would have taken time, which was something we were lacking. Also, I was sure that neither Harry nor Hermione would get hurt this way. Any other way, it wasn't certain, and that was something I couldn't have let happen. If either of them had gotten hurt and it was my fault, I would have never forgiven myself."

Arthur found himself vaguely taken aback by the blunt honesty and maturity in his son's words, but there were still things that refused to compute, "But surely they would not have expected you to do that. Surely they would have agreed to any other plan that didn't make you get hurt?"

"They would've, but I didn't give them the option. I told them it was the only way. It's true I may have been able to find an alternative, but I wasn't certain, and it would have wasted time. What I did was for the best, they were both safe, Harry saved the stone, and the world was saved from an immortal Voldemort. I decided that against all of what was at stake, I could afford to sacrifice myself. I knew I would rather do that then have everyone I cared about living with a crazy evil immortal wizard."

This time Arthur could think of nothing more to say. He gave his son a smile, told him he could handle putting away all of the dry dished and wished him goodnight. With another hug, he sent his son off to unpack his trunk with a smile. As he watched him head towards the stairs, he allowed himself to think about what Ron had said. Truth be told, Arthur was impressed. He barely expected to hear such things from Bill, Charlie or Percy, let alone 11 year-old Ron. Yet it scared him, sacred him beyond words. His son was so brave, and had such a clear idea of right and wrong. Overall, Arthur felt proud, possibly prouder than he had ever been of any of his children. Yet there was still a nagging fear in the back of his mind, very near to the sense of foreboding. He had a feeling that this would not be the last time Ron got himself into a dangerous situation. With a friend like Harry Potter, who already seemed to be somewhat of a trouble magnet (Arthur silently pleaded that he wouldn't end up too much like his father during James' Hogwarts years) it was bound to happen. If Ron kept thinking this way, putting the greater good, or his friends, before himself, Arthur would most likely find himself losing a son. He didn't think he would be able to handle that, no matter when, no matter the situation.

Arthur sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses before returning to the dishes. He sincerely hoped that this incident would be the end of the craziness for a while. He wasn't sure how much more of this he would be able to handle before he either snapped or had a nervous breakdown. As he put away the last dish and shut the cupboard door behind it, he reasoned that he should at least have a few years of peace before he had to worry about any of that. How much more trouble could three pre-teens get into anyways?