An Eventful Wedding Day
After a few long months and an even longer weekend, the day of the wedding finally came. The Burrow buzzed with people and last-minute wedding preparations. From daybreak, Molly, Conner, Hermione, and Fleur worked tirelessly in the kitchen. Dinner for a hundred-some-odd people wasn't going to cook itself, after all. They had to keep shooing Ron out of the kitchen after he finally woke up, and he was sent to the village to pick up lunch for everyone a bit later.
Later that afternoon, the food was finished and the kitchen cleaned. However, things did not slow down. The Burrow was ready to burst at the seams as the wedding party and immediate family began arriving. For an hour, people were in and out of the only two showers the Burrow had. Audrey and the bridal party used the master bedroom to get ready while Percy and the groomsmen were in his old room a couple floors up. Those not in the wedding chatted downstairs, except Penelope who was helping with her little sister.
George arrived a little late. He had offered to deal with their father. For months, he had been expecting that to be his responsibility. However, with Arthur having been in the hospital until the early afternoon, it made his job a little easier. They had gone by Arthur's flat so he could shower and get changed after he was discharged. George made sure his dad didn't get any alcohol while they were there either. Keep Dad sober as long as possible, that was the key.
"Can I leave you down here, or do I have to babysit you all night?" George asked on the porch.
Arthur glared at him. "I'll be fine."
Inside, George gave a hasty, general greeting before running upstairs to get ready. He gave Harry a subtle gesture, indicating that he would step in if any conflict arose between Arthur and anyone else.
For the first time in his life, Arthur felt like an outsider in his own house. Ron and Charlie ignored him completely while they talked to Desmond and Paulene. Harry and Hermione were also in that conversation. With Audrey's parents were Molly and…Conner.
Seriously...? He was here? Even after that article? If there was one way to make a bad situation worse, this was it. It was their son's wedding for Merlin's sake! And his wife brought a date? Arthur would not let this get to him. He took a few calming breaths, ignored Conner, and sat next to his brother and sister-in-law, causing Ron and Charlie to make an excuse to leave that conversation..
"I think something's growing on your face," Desmond teased.
Arthur laughed dryly.
"Trent and Ian can make a beard work, but you…" the younger brother frowned, "not so much."
"I don't recall asking your opinion," Arthur shot.
"Relax. I was only joking," Desmond defended. "It doesn't look bad, actually."
Arthur patted his forehead with a handkerchief. Since the previous night, he couldn't seem to cool off, which meant he couldn't sleep well either. As he was putting the handkerchief back in his pocket, there were several pops of apparition outside. He saw Kingsley through the window. Thankful for this interruption before Desmond or Paulene could ask how he was, Arthur excused himself.
As soon as he stepped outside, he remembered there was no way Kingsley could have missed the article.
"Arthur," Kingsley greeted as jovially as usual.
"Merlin, Kingsley! Did you bring enough Aurors?" Arthur forced a chuckle as he looked around at no less than a dozen Aurors in front of him.
"Eight for the perimeter and four for around the marquee." Kingsley frowned and observed the group as well. "That should be enough, shouldn't it?" he asked uncertainly.
Arthur crossed his arms. "Have there been any more whispers?"
"No."
"Then, I think we'll be fine." He shrugged. "And what's left of the Order will be here as well, so..." he trailed off.
"Does Percy know about the threats?"
"No, no one has told him. He already has enough on his mind. If he asks about the Aurors around the marquee, we can tell him they're for you." Arthur took out the handkerchief and patted his forehead again.
Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Nervous?"
Arthur shrugged. "I guess so." He shoved his hands in his pockets.
Kingsley whistled to gain the attention of the murmuring Aurors. "Let's get set up!" he commanded. Arthur walked alongside Kingsley as he led the Aurors to the boundaries. He looked over at Arthur. "How much time do we have?"
Arthur pulled his left hand out of his pocket. He continued walking and looked at his watch which slid slightly on his wrist. "Half an hour 'til the photographer shows up. Almost two hours 'til the guests start arriving," Arthur answered.
Kingsley nodded. "Plenty of time then. I'll double-check the wards after I get the Aurors in place."
Arthur stuck his hand back in his pocket, but not before Kingsley noticed the red, jagged scar on the back of his hand.
"Did you get that the other night?" Kingsley inquired conversationally.
Arthur took his hands back out of his pockets. He rubbed his aching hand. "Piece of glass," was his short reply. He braced himself for the inevitable, painful conversation about Skeeter's article, but Kingsley left it at that.
Arthur walked the boundaries with Kingsley and the Aurors, one being stationed every now and then, until he had to go back for the wedding photos.
As soon as he walked into the house, Louisa and Penelope rushed up to him. "Uncle Artie!" they squealed with excitement.
Arthur picked up Louisa and hugged Penelope with his free arm while she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Don't you two look pretty," he complimented. The girls giggled.
"Is everyone ready for pictures?" George asked loudly. When everyone confirmed, the house slowly began to empty, except for Harry, Hermione, and Conner who stayed behind. There would be enough people outside. They didn't need to add to the chaos and confusion.
Desmond went to take Louisa from Arthur, but Arthur said, "It's alright, Desmond. Make yourselves at home. We can watch her."
However, Desmond continued to take her from him and handed her to Paulene. When the girls were out of earshot, Desmond whispered, "Look, we would rather you not be around the girls. I don't want them experiencing what we did as kids."
Arthur stared at his youngest brother, dumbfounded. "You don't actually believe what that Skeeter woman wrote?" he asked incredulously. He threw his hands out. "Come on, I'm your brother."
"I believe it took three scary-looking guys to pull you off someone," Desmond responded. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but after what we went through with Dad, I'm not taking any chances with my daughters." He followed his wife and daughters out.
Arthur stared after him. How could his own brother say that to him? Sure, it didn't look good, but the picture wasn't very clear on what happened. You could barely make out what was going on. And it's not like he would hurt his own nieces. No, they weren't as close as they were with their other brothers, but Desmond should know him better than that.
George poked his head back in. "Ya coming, Dad?"
Arthur blinked. "Yeah." He dabbed his forehead again as he walked out.
As they followed everyone else out to the orchard, George asked skeptically, "Where did you go?"
"I was walking the perimeter with Kingsley. He's setting up the Aurors and checking the wards again," Arthur answered.
When they reached the rest of the group, Percy saw his dad for the first time that day. The groom blurted, "You couldn't have shaved, Fa-" He forced a cough. "Dad?"
"Well, 'hello' to you, too," Arthur said sourly.
"Sorry, hi," Percy mumbled. "But look at your face." He gestured to his dad's face. "There's…hair all over it."
Arthur stroked his beard. "It's called a beard. I keep it trimmed. I don't see what the problem is."
"Hey, Perce," George stepped in. He put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Everything is going smoothly. Everything is set up. Let's not get hung up over small, trivial things. Alright?"
Percy nodded his head. "Yes – Small – Trivial – Everything is fine," he muttered to himself as he wandered off.
George looked to his father. "He's been like this all day," he commented. "Almost cried when his boutonnière was a little flat. It was an easy fix, of course, but still."
"Audrey looks more at ease than he does," Arthur said, watching the photographer arrange the bride and groom. "No one told either of them about the threats?" Arthur whispered so only George could hear.
"No. Do you think he would be this well-off if he knew?" George responded. He pulled his dad aside. There was a burning question that had not yet been answered. "After what happened this weekend, are you finally done drinking?"
Arthur looked at his injured hand. He noticed it was shaking slightly. Merlin, maybe he was nervous, but he wasn't nervous at all for Bill's wedding. Perhaps, it was the rumors of an attack putting him on edge. He glanced over at Desmond then Ginny caught his eye. He remembered what he must have put her through. Arthur looked back at his second-youngest son. "Yes," he said firmly. "I'm done."
"Can I trust that you won't get drunk and ruin this for Percy and Audrey?"
Arthur's eyes never left George's. "I am done drinking," he repeated. For the past twenty-four hours, he had been having trouble keeping the thought of having a drink out of his head, but that didn't mean he would give into the urges.
"Can I trust that you're being honest with me?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Well, I'm not so sure. You're going to have to earn my trust back, along with everyone else's."
"George!" Bill called as he motioned for George to get set for their photos.
"You better not mess this up," George told his dad again. "If you feel like you're about to drink tonight, tell me. That will help me trust you again," he stressed before joining his brothers and Oliver.
Arthur made his way to stand near Molly. Before long, they would be in photos and they had to at least act like they could tolerate each other. Not talking wasn't going to help with that. He stood beside her and watched the group taking their photos.
After a moment, Molly said, "I'm glad you're okay," as she continued watching the photos being taken.
"Thank you," Arthur replied. After another moment, he asked, "Can we talk? We – We need to talk."
Molly crossed her arms. "That depends." She looked up at him. "Have you been drinking today?"
Arthur looked her in the eye. "No, I haven't."
She glanced back at the photographer who was setting up for another photo. "It doesn't look like they'll need us any time soon. Come on." She led him to the center of the orchard where the chairs and trellis were set up for the ceremony then looked expectantly at him.
"Look, I-I don't remember anything from the other night." He scratched the back of his head, "And I know this won't mean anything to you, but…if I did or said anything while I was here, I am truly sorry. It terrifies me, not knowing what I did," When Molly didn't say anything, he shoved his hands into his pockets and continued. "I'm done. I'm not going to drink anymore."
Some hair fell in Molly's face as she watched a few brown leaves blow across the ground while she contemplated what her husband said. As much as she wanted it to be true, Molly couldn't make herself believe his statement. She moved the hair out of her face as she looked back at Arthur. "What makes this different from the other times you said you'd quit?" she questioned.
"All the other times, I did it for you or the kids. I didn't really," he shrugged, "want to quit. But, now…I want to stop, for myself and for my family. I've put all of you through hell, and that's the last thing anyone needed right now." He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked a few feet away. He stared at his feet, thinking of Ginny again. When he looked back at Molly, his eyes were misty. "I owe my life to our daughter," he continued quietly. "I can't begin to imagine what I put her through. She shouldn't have had to experience that."
"No, she shouldn't have…but I am thankful she was there," Molly admitted. It seemed like she still had more to say, so Arthur waited. "You know, I partly blame myself for all of this," she finally said, staring at a chair.
"Really? How is that?" Arthur asked evenly, but expecting her to finally express some guilt about Conner.
"I keep thinking if I had pointed out how much you were drinking sooner, then none of this would have happened," she confessed then looked up at him. She did feel responsible for the other night as well, but she wouldn't tell him that. There was no need to anyway, since he couldn't even remember what happened.
"It wouldn't've made a difference. I wouldn't've listened. I was doing whatever I could to escape," Arthur assured. He took a deep breath as he got ready to finally open up to his wife. "I've felt like shite –"
Molly cleared her throat disapprovingly.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I've been miserable nearly every day since the end of the war. Nothing makes me happy. Everything's…pointless. For months, I've just wanted things to end," he confessed. "But I realize now that I can't do that to the kids. I couldn't do that to you."
It took a minute for Molly to register the meaning behind her husband's words. It hit her hard when she understood. A lump formed in her throat. "W-Why have you not said anything?" she croaked.
"You know I've never been good with sharing my emotions."
"No, you have always been very affectionate and you have never had issues showing your emotions," she contradicted calmly, "but thirty years, and it's still a fight to get you to talk about what you're struggling with," Molly said. "You don't have to be strong for everyone. It's okay to ask for help."
Arthur gently wiped away a tear that escaped and rolled down his wife's cheek. He tucked some hair behind her ear and let his hand linger there. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." For a second, Arthur thought she was going to move his hand, but she reached up and held it.
"Do you still feel like that?" she whispered.
"That doesn't matter right now," he replied, looking past her.
"Arthur…" she pleaded weakly.
He pulled her closer and softly kissed the top of her head. "Yes," he murmured into her hair. She let out a small whimper. "It's not as big of a deal as you think. This isn't the first time." His dress robes tightened around him as Molly gripped them in her fists. "I've been waiting for this to pass like usual, but it doesn't feel like it ever will."
Molly lost whatever composure she had maintained. She wept and leaned further into her husband. When she realized just how thin he had become, she began to sob. Arthur rested his chin on her head and lightly wrapped his arms around her.
This explained a few things for her: why Arthur would be reserved for a few days or weeks, or why his mood would abruptly drop from one moment to the next. But if this was as common as he made it seem, then Molly had been oblivious to the pain her husband had periodically been in over the course of their relationship. Guilt gripped her. She knew he needed her, but she never realized how much.
It was a little while before she could calm down. Molly wasn't quite sure what made her so upset – what Arthur said, the guilt she felt, realizing she had almost lost him again that weekend and it would have been her fault, months of pent-up emotions, the exhaustion from preparing for the wedding, or a mixture of everything. Finally, she pulled away and wandered to a seat on the back row. Arthur straddled the chair in the row in front of her and patted his forehead with the handkerchief. He rested his forearms on the back of the chair.
Molly forced a half-hearted laugh. "My make-up is probably a huge mess."
"Your face is a bit red, but the make-up is intact," Arthur informed.
Molly was relieved at this and remembered the magical make-up she had bought for occasions such as this. It was guaranteed to stay in place no matter how much you cried or how wet it got. The label had said it withstood monsoons, but Molly doubted that until now. She dabbed at her tear-stained cheeks with a tissue she carried in her pocket.
"I wish you would have said something. I had no idea you felt that way." She sniffed. "Thirty years, and you've never even hinted at it."
"We've talked about this, Molly…I hate feeling vulnerable."
"Even when it could potentially ruin your life?"
"When you grow up in a family like mine, you build up a wall at a young age. That's hard to break down no matter how far removed you get from that situation," Arthur calmly explained. The couple had discussed his upbringing a few times in their relationship, but it had been several years since the last time they had talked about it. Molly sometimes needed a reminder about how terrible it was and how it still affected him all those years later.
Molly sighed and shook her head. "Septimus really did a number on you."
Arthur shrugged. "Yeah, well…"
"I still don't understand why your grandparents couldn't have taken you all in."
"Molly, they did what they could. We were at their house half the time, but they couldn't take in seven troubled kids. What's important is that they were there when we needed them," Arthur explained. "They practically raised us."
"Wouldn't you take in your grandchildren if, God forbid, they were in a similar situation?" Molly asked.
"Of course, if we were financially able. Gramps and Gran didn't have the means, and they had already raised seven kids. You can't compare them to us. I know they cared about us and did their best, so let's just drop it," he said calmly.
The couple sat in a brief silence, Arthur trying to pull himself out of the dark place that was his childhood and Molly still calming down from several minutes previous.
Molly gently brushed her fingers over Arthur's beard. "I'm not spending time with Conner because I like his beard," she commented, hoping this wouldn't upset her husband.
Arthur scratched at his chin. "That's not why I grew it. I'm not a big fan of it myself, actually."
"Why did you then?"
"Honestly?"
"That's what I've wanted all along."
Arthur studied an apple hanging from a limb a few feet away. "I'm trying to hide the fact I've been losing weight."
It was hard to miss that he had lost weight, but she wasn't sure why he had grown a beard. He never had one in the time she'd known him. Molly gently took his chin and moved his head in order to better study his hidden features. Arthur eyed her warily. "That's what I thought" she said. "Have you not been eating?"
Arthur moved his head out of her grasp. "I've not had much of an appetite." He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. He looked out of the top of his eyes at her, a look that always reminded her of a lost puppy. "Molly…am I losing you? Have I lost you?" he asked softly, a question that had been nagging him for months now.
She ran her other hand through his hair. With a sad smile, she said, "Silly man, I've only ever loved you."
Arthur continued to hold her hand tightly. He placed his hands with hers on the back of the chair and rested his head on them. "What about Conner?" he asked innocently before burying his face in his arms.
"Arthur, look at me," Molly said gently, coaxing him from his hiding spot. "I do not love him. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"You actually haven't said that," he pointed out softly.
Molly rested her forehead on his and looked into her husband's blue eyes. "I only love you, Arthur Weasley," she reassured.
Until that moment, Arthur had no idea how much he needed to hear those words come out of her mouth. His heart swelled with love for his wife. "You're all I've ever known. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he murmured.
Soft lips brushed against his. "Hopefully, neither of us will have to find out," Molly whispered.
Arthur returned the kiss. Molly deepened it. For the first time in months, it didn't taste like some sort of alcohol. The kiss quickly became one of passion. Arthur climbed over his chair, picked her up, and set her on his lap without breaking the kiss.
"Merlin, I've missed you," he breathed.
Molly moaned into his mouth when she felt him against her. "I need you."
Arthur began lifting her dress over her hips, but she stopped him. "Wait." She stood. He let out an involuntary whimper. She took his hand and dragged him to a cluster of trees and bushes they had snuck off to many times before. It was the perfect spot, secluded and cozy, barricaded by thick brush. "I'd hate to be interrupted," she murmured, pushing him against a thick tree.
Arthur smiled deviously before picking up his wife and kissing her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder. He deftly moved her panties and his robes out of the way. He grunted and she threw her head back in pleasure.
A while later, they both found themselves satisfied, entangled in each other on the mossy floor of the orchard. Molly mindlessly drew patterns on her husband's chest. She couldn't help thinking how thin he'd become as her fingers rose and fell with the hills and valleys of his ribcage. Arthur held her close, seemingly afraid that she would disappear if he let go. He caught himself thinking a drink would be nice, but quickly pushed it to the back of his mind. He would much rather be doing this than be passed out drunk somewhere.
Molly walked her fingers up his chest and rested her hand at the base of his neck. She smiled at him seductively. "Ready for another go?"
He grinned back at her before rolling them both over. Molly squealed in delight and surprise.
"Mum! Dad!" George's voice called.
Molly and Arthur both groaned before their eyes went wide. They had completely lost track of time.
"Mum! Dad!" their son called again.
Arthur jumped up then helped his wife. They hastily brushed off and rushed back to where the photographs were being taken.
"We've been looking for you for fifteen minutes!" Percy exclaimed.
"Where have you two -" George stopped abruptly, noticing the state his parents were in. His dad's robes were backwards and his hair was a mess. A twig or two stuck out of his mum's hair and her dress was still hitched up a little, but not enough to see anything, thankfully. Their interlocked fingers were hard to miss.
"Merlin's saggy left –"
"Charlie!" Molly snapped, adjusting her dress.
While Ron wanted to join his older brother, he turned scarlet instead and mumbled a bunch of unintelligible gibberish. Ginny looked about ready to protest like Charlie, but refrained. Percy was either about to blow a gasket or burst into tears; it was hard to tell. However, Desmond winked at Arthur and gave a small laugh.
"This is a first," the young photographer mumbled, red-faced.
A wave of Arthur's wand, and the couple was set right. The spell long since perfected.
They had barely finished taking pictures and dispersed when guests started apparating in the distance. No one said anything else about their parents. It was not the time, but it was obvious most of them did not agree with their sudden reunion.
Molly patted Arthur's sweaty forehead with a tissue and felt it with the back of her hand. He shakily removed her hand. Molly briefly watched his shaking hands. She frowned. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked, concerned.
"I'm probably just nervous, what with…" Arthur nodded to a nearby Auror.
Molly wasn't sure if Arthur even believed what he said. With the past several years, there was no reason to be nervous. Nothing seemed to make him nervous before when they were actively fighting Death Eaters and Voldemort. A few minor threats from dark wizards shouldn't have this effect on him. She nodded. "Okay. Do you feel better from what you told me earlier?" she asked quietly, expecting him to be honest.
Arthur nodded once and forced a small smile. He still didn't feel any different, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Not right now, at least. If he told her how he really felt, it would only upset her again. Apparently, she didn't understand that he couldn't just switch it off. If she asked after the celebrations, he would tell her the truth. Until then, he would put on the mask he was so used to wearing.
Harry and Hermione crossed the field with Ginny and Ron. Conner was close behind. However, while the teens entered the orchard, Conner veered toward the older Weasley couple.
"What are you going to do about him?" Arthur asked, glaring at the other man. "I can tell him to leave if you think it might be a bit awkward to ask him yourself."
Molly's eyes went wide. She had forgotten all about Conner. "What? No, Arthur, he's not going anywhere. It would be rude to ask him to leave, especially with how much he's helped out," she reproached him. "You've never had any issues with me spending time with Kingsley or Remus or Sirius or Hagrid or any other man, for that matter. This is no different."
"There is a difference. I knew all of them. I don't know this bloke. You're probably spending more time with him than you ever did anyone else."
"You spent more time at work or on missions than you ever did at Grimmauld Place."
"Well, you never spent time alone with any of them."
"Do you not trust me?"
"No, I trust you. I do not trust him."
"Arthur, I love you," she reassured. "Conner has served as a distraction and has become a good friend in the process. Do you trust me?"
"Yes, that's what I just said."
"Then show it. Love, you are overthinking things. Here, let me talk to him. Go on in. I'll find you in a few minutes," Molly said.
Conner smirked and winked at Arthur while he draped an arm across Molly's shoulders. She smiled up at him. "Everything alright, Molls?" he asked, grinning back at her.
Arthur stalked off. The unpleasant feeling he had about Conner returned stronger than he had ever remembered. The Irishman acted a bit too cocky for his liking.
"You two have a little chat?" Conner asked when Arthur was out of earshot.
"Yes, we had a long talk. He finally opened up and told me he's quit drinking." She watched Arthur enter the orchard. "I actually believe him. I'm giving him another chance."
Conner stared in the direction Arthur stalked off in. "Oh," he said in understanding, furrowing his brow. "Withdrawals."
Molly cocked her head at the Irishman. "I'm sorry. What do you mean?" she inquired.
"Pallor, sweating, shaking hands. He's having alcohol withdrawals. It's probably not too serious, though," Conner explained.
Molly frowned. "He didn't say anything about that. He told me he was nervous."
"Well, he may not realize that's what it is. I can talk to him about it later," Conner suggested.
"I don't think that would be well-received, but I can't stop you," Molly said.
oOoOo
Torches lit a path into the center of the orchard. Lights twinkled in the canopy of leaves above the large clearing. Various shades of orange shone through the colorful leaves from the setting sun. Purple and blue roses grew on the arched trellis in front of the chairs. The area quickly filled with people. The chatter drowned out the soft music from the violins and cello.
Arthur greeted family and friends as he weaved his way through the crowd. It was surprising how many people were talking about him or Molly when they thought he couldn't hear them. He was soon roped into a conversation with a colleague from the Ministry. However, he could not focus on what she was saying because all five of his brothers were having a discussion about him several feet away.
"Who woulda thought Arthur would be the one to end up like Dad?" Ian said ruefully.
"My money was on Alexander," Trenton commented with a smile, elbowing his older brother in the side.
Alexander crossed his arms and frowned.
"Cheer up, mate. There's still time."
"Have any of you talked to him recently?" Alexander asked, ignoring his younger brother's inappropriate joke. "He's not been returning any of my owls."
"Not since we went out a while back,' Neil said.
"He wasn't too happy with us after that night." Trenton frowned.
"I saw him at work a couple weeks ago. It looked like he hadn't slept in a month," Ian informed.
"Did he say anything?"
"Not really. Seemed like he was in hurry to get outta there."
"Percy got defensive when I brought it up last night," Desmond commented. "I don't know what's going on with him, but I do not want him around my girls, and he knows that."
"Come on, Desmond. Give him a break," Trenton defended. "He's not had the best year, ya know."
"That doesn't give him an excuse. He could've killed someone the other night," Desmond pointed out vehemently.
"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You got into plenty of fights when you were younger, and what happened with Arthur was out of context. Have you even tried talking to him since the funeral?" Trenton asked.
Desmond faltered before arguing, "We didn't make excuses for Dad, so we shouldn't make excuses for him either."
"Septimus was a whole different beast. We have no idea what Arthur's going through. None of us know what it's like to fight in a war or lose a kid, so back off!" Trenton warned.
"We should have made more of an effort to check in," Ian mumbled.
Arthur was finally able to get away from his colleague. He made eye contact with Neil as he approached the group of redheads. Neil cleared his throat to silence his brothers.
"I would have at least thought my brothers wouldn't talk about me behind my back," Arthur shot.
"Turn around then, eh?" Trenton joked.
Arthur glared at him.
"Easy now, Grumpelstiltskin," Trenton chuckled, hoping the reference to the Muggle fairytale would lighten the mood and distract Arthur. It did not.
"Arthur, we are not gossiping. We are concerned," Alexander voiced.
"You haven't answered any of our letters. You've not been yourself when we have seen you," Neil said.
"I've been busy," Arthur dismissed their concern. "I'm managing a department now."
"And getting into bar brawls," Desmond added under his breath.
"Des-" Alexander started, but Arthur beat him to it.
"What do you have against me?"
"You never got in trouble. You never cared about us."
"Are you going to fault me for learning to keep my head down?" Arthur asked.
"You never stuck up for any of us with Dad. At least someone always had your back, but when it came down to it, you only watched out for yourself," Desmond accused.
"I tried taking the heat off you more times than I can count. There was only so much I could do when you acted out all the time. It didn't even matter to Septimus. He would use me as a warm-up before moving on to you. Eventually, I figured out keeping quiet was the best tactic"
"You abandoned me. You hardly ever came home for Christmas. The last two summers, you were always with Molly. When you were home, you'd go out with Bilius and Trent. Mum and Dad didn't even notice you were gone. Then you moved out and never looked back."
"What did you expect me to do? Live there until I was twenty-five? It's not like I left you alone. You had Neil and Ian," Arthur reasoned.
"Neil never took anything seriously, and Ian was too busy being a suck-up. Things only got worse for me after you left. You know, you could have checked in. Made sure we were alive, like Alexander did with you."
"I'm sorry, but I did go back. Remember when you were sixteen and Septimus beat you so badly that you were stuck in bed for days and missed the Hogwarts Express?"
Desmond nodded.
"I went to give him a piece of my mind and try to get him to let you live with me and Molly. Do you know what his response was?" His youngest brother remained silent. "He sent me to the hospital with a concussion, three broken ribs, and a punctured lung. I had two kids I had to think about by then. Do I need to apologize for making my own kids a priority?"
Desmond didn't say anything.
"Do not say I never did anything for you," Arthur said with a tone of finality.
"Better to have Arthur than the all-accomplishing Alexander," Trenton mumbled bitterly, arms crossed. "At least, you didn't have to live in his shadow."
"Pardon me, but if you had applied yourself and taken things seriously, you would have done just as well as I did…or at least finished school" Alexander chided.
"Imagine if Alexander was only a year older than you and everything he did was ten times better." Desmond shot a sideways glance at Ian.
"If you weren't so busy bringing negative attention to yourself then you would've had more time to study," Ian shot back.
Soon, it was difficult to differentiate one argument from another between the older generation of Weasley brothers. Luckily, the din from the other guests kept attention away from the quarrelling group. Arthur patted his forehead with the handkerchief and shoved his hands in his pockets. He did not get involved. He remained silent, and no one seemed to notice. Firewhisky would be good right about now, he thought.
"Boys!" a voice called.
The arguing continued.
A sharp, high-pitched whistle sounded over the ruckus. "BOYS!" the voice boomed and gained the attention of the group, as well as some nearby guests. Their grandfather was still a strong, forceful, able-bodied, energetic man – though, now grey-haired and wrinkled – for his age of 108 and still easily commanded authority. However, he only used this tone when he was very upset. Usually, he was jovial and laidback. "What is going on?" he barked.
Alexander, Ian, and Desmond all burst out with unintelligible answers until their grandfather let out a quieter whistle.
He crossed his arms. "How old are you all? Because it doesn't look like you are all in your forties and fifties with kids of your own."
"Sorry, Gramps," all six of them mumbled.
"What started all of this?" Gramps asked.
"Desmond's being an arse again," Neil said.
"He and Arthur got into an argument," Alexander informed, "which seemed to have finished until Trenton opened his big mouth."
"Desmond, do you have anything else to say?" Gramps asked.
"No, sir, I've said my piece."
"Is there anything you'd like to say, Arthur?"
Arthur's head snapped up from staring at his feet when his grandfather spoke to him directly. "No, sir, I'm fine," he answered, avoiding eye contact. This had always been his go-to answer ever since he was a child. His grandfather never seemed convinced, though.
"Trenton?"
"No, sir."
"Arthur, we –" Gramps began, but Molly came to her husband's rescue.
"Alright, Love?" she asked, resting a hand on his left arm and pecking his cheek. He forced a smile and kissed her back. Various greetings came from Arthur's brothers and grandfather which Molly reciprocated. She slid her hand down Arthur's arm to hold his hand, but he let out a yelp of pain and grimaced. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, dear. I forgot all about that." Molly held his arm instead. "We're almost ready to get started, but Percy needs you."
Grateful for any excuse to get out of that situation, Arthur followed his wife through the crowd and down a narrow path to a small opening in the trees. Percy was there with George, Bill, and Oliver. Molly ushered the young men out, leaving Arthur and Percy in the clearing.
"I'm not ready for this," Percy said, eyes wide.
"Of course, you are," Arthur assured. "Everything is in place. All you have to do is walk down that aisle."
"No, I mean, I'm not ready to get married. What was I thinking?" he panicked.
"You're more ready than I ever was," Arthur admitted.
"You're just saying that," Percy contradicted.
"Alright, if you don't believe me, let me ask you this." He put his hands on his son's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Do you love her?"
Percy nodded. "Without a doubt. But what if nothing I do is good enough? What if I can't give her everything she needs? What if –"
"Son," Arthur interrupted, "life is full of what-ifs. You can't go around doubting yourself. You have to make things happen. I have faith in you, and I can tell she loves you as much as you love her. Everything will be fine. And you can always come to me for advice."
Percy nodded. "Okay."
The muffled noises from the wedding guests died down. The soft sound of the violins and cello took its place.
"Ready now?" Arthur asked.
Percy nodded and took a deep breath. Arthur patted his back. Percy led the way down the narrow path out of the clearing.
oOoOo
The ceremony went perfectly. There was no need for Percy to worry all day. His parents walked down the aisle together arm in arm. Little Louisa didn't run out of flowers this time. George was serious and responsible for the first time in his life. And his beautiful bride was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on as she walked down the aisle to him.
Afterwards, it took a while for everyone to congratulate the young couple, but once guests filtered down the lit path through the field to the marquee, the food and wine magically appeared on the tables. George made a short, but meaningful toast which provoked tears from a few people, including Percy and Molly. After the meal, the guests watched the traditional wedding dances in the middle of the marquee. Before long, everyone was able to mingle or dance, and the marquee buzzed with activity, music, and chatter.
Arthur and Molly made their rounds – Arthur made sure to avoid his grandparents - before they split up. Molly wandered off to occupy Great Aunt Muriel for a while. Arthur ventured over to Neil and Trenton at a table. A few of Arthur's nephews sat at the table as well, but were too involved with their own conversation to pay the older Weasleys any attention.
"Things better with Molly then, eh?" Neil asked, sipping his Firewhisky.
"Things seem to be looking up," Arthur replied vaguely as he slid into an unoccupied seat. He set his hands on the tabletop before he realized they were still shaking. In fact, he could have sworn they had gotten worse. He moved them to his lap and stared intently at his hands, willing them to be still. He got the feeling it was not nerves getting the best of him.
"Gramps wants to talk to you when you get the chance," Neil said.
Arthur looked up. "What?"
"Gramps wants to talk to you," Neil repeated.
"I talked to him earlier. You were there."
"You said half a dozen words to him, at the most," Trenton commented. However, his words went unheard. Arthur was too focused on the bottle of Firewhisky on the table.
"Do you have a cigarette, Trent?" Arthur asked abruptly.
"Always," he replied in a sing-song voice, pulling out the pack and handing one to his younger brother.
As soon as Arthur accepted it, he made a beeline for the exit. He bumped into a few people on his way. The last person he ran into put a hand out to stop him. Arthur looked up. To his dismay, it was Conner.
"Arthur, there's something I wanted –"
Arthur cut Conner off. "Never talk to me unless it's work-related," he warned before pushing past him.
Once outside, it was still nearly impossible to find a secluded spot. People were scattered throughout the yard and garden. Arthur decided to slip into his shed. As soon as he was in, he lit the cigarette with the tip of his wand. He took a long drag and held it in for a few seconds before blowing it out. He still wasn't a big fan of it, but at least he didn't cough this time. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.
He had resisted the urge to drink for two days, albeit it was impossible to drink most of that time since he was in the hospital. He resisted the wine at dinner. He had finally gotten Molly back. He wasn't going to ruin this for Percy. He wasn't going to prove Desmond's point and reinforce what everyone already thought.
Arthur remembered what George had told him, If you feel like you're about to drink tonight, tell me.
After another few minutes, Arthur finished his cigarette and flicked it in the grass on his way back to the marquee. He spotted George dancing with the maid of honor. George laughed with a huge grin on his face as they spun around the dance floor. Cassie swatted his hand away when it wandered below her waist, but she didn't seem too bothered. It was the happiest Arthur had seen George in ages. He couldn't take that away from his son. What was George going to do if he felt like he was going to drink anyway? Besides, Arthur felt a little better. There was no reason to interrupt his son.
Maybe if he found Molly…Arthur didn't see her, but he did see his grandfather headed toward him. He ducked away from Gramps and right into...Muriel. Immediately, she tore into him. Gramps appeared out of the crowd next to them
"Excuse me. Do you mind not speaking to my grandson in that manner?" Gramps said aggressively.
Muriel tutted. "Costin, you have always been bailing those boys out of trouble. You did not raise your own sons right, so you were stuck cleaning up their messes."
Arthur did not hear his grandfather's rebuttal because he took that opportunity to slip away. He found Neil and Trenton again and reclaimed his seat.
"Back so soon, brother?" Trenton asked.
"I'm not in the mood to socialize," Arthur grumbled.
"Well, if you're not in the mood to socialize," Trenton handed a bottle of Firewhisky to Arthur, "then drink." He smirked.
Arthur eyed the bottle in his hand. He swallowed hard. "I can't."
"Of course, you can," Neil said. "The top's already off."
"No. I told Molly –"
"Don't worry. We'll make sure you don't shag anyone this time."
"No, we'll make sure it's Molly this time." Neil winked.
"Seriously, stop," Arthur snapped.
"Fine. More for us then!" Trenton said, taking the bottle back and filling up his and Neil's glasses. They clinked their glasses together and downed them in one go. Trenton filled them up again.
Ignoring his brothers, Arthur took another cigarette from the pack on the table. As he slowly smoked the cigarette, he stared intently at the half-empty bottle, trying to rationalize why it would be okay to drink, but at the same time, trying to talk himself out of it. It was a celebration. His wife and kids weren't around, so they wouldn't know. They would find out somehow, though. He had promised Molly and George, but he hadn't said anything to his other kids. It might lift his mood and make him more sociable. He would probably be able to stop thinking about drinking. It would get his brothers off his back. Arthur didn't even think about how it had nearly killed him.
One glass wouldn't hurt, right?
Arthur gave a start and spun around in his chair when someone touched his shoulder. "Minerva!" he exclaimed, cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"Arthur, I didn't know you smoked," Professor McGonagall said with a hint of disapproval.
Arthur hastily removed the cigarette from his mouth. "I don't usually," he responded. The tips of his ears grew pink. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to Molly or the kids."
"Mention what?"
Arthur gave her an appreciative smile.
"Good evening, Professor M," Neil chimed.
Trenton stood. "Beautiful as always, Minnie," he complimented, stumbling a couple steps as he bowed. He fell back into his chair.
Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued her conversation with the more mature Weasley. She eyed the Firewhisky on the table skeptically. "Don't you think you should stay sober tonight?" she asked then lowered her voice, "What with the rumors going around."
"I thought you'd be the last person to believe that garbage Skeeter writes," Arthur said indignantly.
"I meant about the attack," she hissed in his ear.
"Oh, right," Arthur mumbled sheepishly.
"You know, I almost didn't recognize you earlier with that beard." Professor McGonagall scrutinized it out of the bottom of her spectacles. "You make it work."
Arthur got the feeling she wasn't just complimenting his beard. He got the impression that she was studying him.
"Do you like my beard, McGee?" Trenton blurted, poking out his chin proudly.
"Should I grow one?" Neil asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Professor McGonagall huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'll talk to you later, Arthur," she said before walking away.
"McGonagall is McGonagone!" Neil slurred, earning a fit of laughter from Trenton.
"Can you two not grow up?" Arthur snapped.
"Maybe you should lighten up," Trenton suggested.
"Come on. It's a wedding!" Neil chimed, slinging an arm around Arthur's shoulders.
"It's a celebration!" Trenton exclaimed. He moved to Arthur's other side.
"It's a party!" they chorused.
This time, Neil handed Arthur the bottle.
One drink…one drink won't hurt.
Trenton and Neil cheered when he lifted the bottle to his lips…and chugged. He couldn't help himself.
"Oi! Save some for us," Trenton protested.
Arthur set the bottle down on the table. His brothers were impressed that it didn't faze him. Trenton picked up the bottle and swirled the last bit around the bottom. He squinted at it disapprovingly.
The night progressed. Arthur remained with his brothers. All reservations about drinking disappeared.
"Arthur!" Kingsley's voice gave the older man a start a good while later. Arthur's heart pounded. Kingsley leaned down near him and whispered. "I need a word. Casually walk with me."
When Arthur went to stand, he fell back in his chair. The second try, he got his balance and followed Kingsley.
"Get another bottle on your way back!" Trenton hollered after him.
As soon as the two men were outside, Kingsley cast Muffliato around them. "That wasn't a good idea, was it?" Kingsley asked, calling him out.
"What d'ya mean?" Arthur slurred, trying to play it off even though he was swaying slightly and felt flushed.
"You're drunk, Arthur," Kingsley stated evenly. "What did Mad-Eye drill into us? Constant vigilance. You knew there was a threat tonight." He crossed his arms. "That's why I brought you out here. Aurors apprehended several dark wizards and one Death Eater, Thorfinn Rowle, down by the creek about thirty minutes ago. They've been taken to Azkaban, and there were no casualties.
"If they had somehow gotten through the wards, you could have gotten yourself or someone else seriously injured or killed because you were intoxicated. You knew there was a threat, and you ignored it, jeopardizing everyone's safety here."
Guilt washed over Arthur. He hadn't thought of that. "Kingsley, I –"
"You could barely stand up a minute ago." Kingsley took the charm down. "I brought you out here to give you an update, not reprimand you."
On his way back to the table, Arthur grabbed another bottle and a glass from the bar. The threat had been eliminated and he was already drunk, so what was a little more? He noticed his hands were no longer shaking as he poured himself a glass, and he could swear he was only sweating now because of the amount of people in the confined space.
"Hey, Arthur, didn't you say things were alright between you and Molly?" Neil asked.
"Yes, why?" he snapped.
Trenton pointed to the dance floor where Molly danced with Conner. "You might oughta keep a closer eye on her," he said, cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"They're just friends," Arthur tried to assure his brothers and himself.
"Doesn't look like it, mate," Neil said.
"Looks like she's getting some on the side," Trenton commented.
Muriel came over as Arthur tried convincing himself that he and his brothers were reading too much into it. "Look at yourself! Shaggy beard, long hair. Couldn't even be bothered to clean up for your son's wedding! How shameful!" she griped.
"Go away, Muriel," Arthur scowled.
"You think you're so frightening, but you wouldn't attack a poor old woman."
"I wouldn't put it past him," Desmond scoffed as he passed
However, Muriel did not heed his warning. She continued berating Arthur relentlessly. Arthur focused on the dancing couple while he tried to tune out Muriel on one side and his brothers on the other. The tempo of the music slowed and Molly moved closer to Conner. Their bodies were almost touching. Rage boiled within Arthur.
"I would give that bloke a piece of my mind if that was my wife," Trenton said.
Neil scoffed. "I would have a few words with my wife."
Molly rested her head on Conner's chest as they swayed with the beat of the music.
"That would be humiliating," Neil commented, "to have your wife dancing with another man in front of everyone you know. I'm surprised you haven't gone over there yet." He lit a cigarette.
"I think it's wonderful that she finally has someone who cares about her," Muriel said on his other side.
Without a word and without thinking, Arthur finished his drink and cut a winding path through people and tables to Molly and Conner. When he reached them, he put on a huge, fake smile and asked, "Mind if I cut in?" Conner looked to Molly for approval. He let Arthur take over when she smiled and nodded.
The couple began to dance to the slow beat. "You're a little slut, you know that?" Arthur hissed menacingly in his wife's ear. It sent a shiver down her spine. "People have been talking about us all night, He is not helping. You are not helping."
"I don't care what they think, Arthur," Molly stated.
"I'm not going to have some mick playing house with my wife."
Molly's heart sank. She leaned back and looked at him. "Are you drunk?" she asked incredulously.
Arthur ignored her question. "And I am not going to have my wife blatantly lie to me and make me a laughing stock," he growled. His grip tightened on her hand and waist.
Tears sprang to her eyes. She stopped dancing and tried to back away, but his grip only grew tighter. "Arthur, you're hurting me," she choked out.
"Why don't you be honest with me now? If you didn't have feelings for him, you wouldn't care if you stopped seeing him," Arthur accused.
"Let go of me!" Molly ordered. She hit his chest with her free hand. Arthur stopped her by grabbing her wrist.
"Do not do that again," he snarled.
Molly glared back at him fearfully but defiantly. "I will scream if you do not let me go," she threatened. However, she did not have to follow through because Conner came to her rescue.
"Leave her alone, Arthur," Conner commanded from behind the intoxicated redhead.
Arthur shoved Molly into Amos Diggory who helped her regain her balance. This little commotion gained the attention of a few nearby guests. Without a second thought about his wife, Arthur faced Conner. "What are you gonna do about it?" he challenged.
"Hopefully, I won't have to do anything. Don't make more of a scene than you already have. You don't want to do that," Conner advised.
"You don't know me!" Arthur shot
"I've been down this path. It's not pretty, and it only gets worse, Trust me."
"Arthur, listen to him," Molly pleaded.
"Stay out of this, woman!" Arthur snapped. He turned his attention back to the Irishman. "Do you always put your dick in things that don't belong to you? You can't waltz into my house, with my kids, and fuck my wife!" Arthur bellowed, causing everyone to stop dancing and bringing even more attention to them. It did not help that the musicians stopped playing. "She does not belong to you!"
"I do not belong to anyone!" Molly objected vehemently as she stepped forward.
"It's not like that, Arthur," Conner assured calmly.
"What are you playing at?" Arthur questioned.
"Nothing," Conner answered simply.
"Arthur, calm down. Why don't we go inside?" Molly suggested.
"No, I am sick of feeling like a fool whenever you tell me there's nothing between you. I demand honest-to-God answers from both of you right now!" Arthur hollered. "Because, Molly, I don't think you've been honest with me. I'm not the only one who has noticed. Everyone else sees there's something more going on."
"Arthur, let's not get into this again. Not right now," Molly said exasperatedly.
"You are going to give me answers now!" Arthur demanded. "You may not love him, but you can't deny you feel something for him."
Molly faltered.
Arthur fixed her with a glare that forced her to be honest with herself and her husband. She swallowed hard. "I-I-I…I'm sorry. Y-you're right. Arthur, I-I never intended for that to happen," Molly stuttered. "But I meant what I said earlier," she added quietly.
Arthur's throat closed up and his jaw tightened. It was a good thing his face was already flushed. The hole in his chest ripped wider. His heart ached. His suspicions had been confirmed, but it did not make him feel any better. He couldn't look at his wife a second longer. He aggressively cleared his throat and forced the question, "And you?" to Conner.
"You don't want to know," Conner said.
"I do," Arthur said with such conviction the other man obliged.
"Maybe – I might…feel protective of her," Conner stammered.
"Complete honesty," Arthur barked.
A beat passed before Conner quietly admitted, "I love her…She's kind, caring, and compassionate. She always puts others before herself. I admire the wild streak she tries to hide, but occasionally breaks through." He glanced at Molly. "She is the strongest and most loving person I've ever known. She is beautiful inside and out. She is loyal to a fault and still loves you even after everything you've put her through. I fear you may strip her of that if you continue to mistreat her…Molly deserves better than you," he asserted.
That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Arthur flew at Conner. People scattered and chairs clattered as the men collided with the ground. Molly screamed for Arthur to stop. He didn't. Kingsley, who was nearby, rushed over and grabbed Arthur's shoulder to pull him off. However, he got hit in the jaw as the older man came up swinging. The next few punches, Kingsley dodged.
"Arthur!" Kingsley boomed. "Arthur! Stop!"
He didn't listen. Professor McGonagall snuck up behind him and tweaked his ear. She wouldn't let go. She brought Arthur to his knees. Hagrid finally made it through the crowd and picked Arthur up by the back of his robes.
"Put me down!" Arthur ordered, swinging his arms and legs furiously.
Hagrid frowned at the man. "Sorry, can't do tha'."
Molly rushed to a bloodied and disheveled Conner as Hagrid carried Arthur out of the marquee. An infuriated Percy led them into the house. Kingsley and George followed close behind. Once they were in the kitchen, Percy rummaged through a cabinet and took out a Sober-Up Potion.
"Tell him to put me down!" Arthur barked.
"Take this!" Percy ordered, holding out the potion to his father.
"Not until he puts me down!"
"Hagrid will only put you down after you take this!" Percy shouted.
Begrudgingly, Arthur drank the potion. Another couple of minutes passed before Hagrid dropped him into a chair. The full weight of what he had just done tumbled down on him like a mountain of boulders. Ashamed and humiliated were understatements for how he felt. Not to mention the complete and utter despair he felt from his wife's revelation.
Percy paced furiously while George vainly attempted to calm him down. The door creaked and Arthur looked up to see his grandfather enter. To his relief, he stood in the far corner with Kingsley. Finally, Percy apprpached him.
"How could you?" he questioned. "I never thought you would do something like this. I had more faith in you than that. I just had to have you here, but I should have listened to Charlie. I should have told you not to come. If you want to screw everything up for yourself, go for it. But do not bring other people down on your path to self-destruction. Do not speak to me. Do not owl me. I will be the one to decide if we should talk." Percy pushed his glasses up on his nose. "If you'll excuse me, Father, I have a few things to deal with," he said bitterly. He turned on his heel and marched out.
Great. Arthur managed to regress their relationship in a matter of minutes. He couldn't blame his son, though. Although it hurt, he understood.
Before following his older brother, George looked his father in the eye. "You said you'd tell me," he said, not bothering to hide his disappointment.
"I was going to," Arthur mumbled.
George shook his head and walked out.
Molly barged in immediately after. It was clear she was on a warpath. She looked to Kingsley and asked, "Is he sober?"
Kingsley gave a small nod.
The three men in the room flinched as she slapped her husband so hard across the face it turned his head and brought tears to his eyes.
"Molly!" Gramps rebuked, stepping out of the corner.
Molly jerked her head around to glare at him. "Keep your mouth shut or get out of my house, Costin!" she shot. That was the first time Arthur could recall her calling Gramps by his first name. Her little outburst did the trick. Gramps retreated to the corner and did not utter another word.
She wheeled back on Arthur who kept his head down and cowered like a dog being scolded by its master. "You swore! Arthur Weasley, you swore you were done drinking, and I trusted you!" she exploded. Arthur opened his mouth to explain, but Molly cut him off. "Do not speak," she commanded. "You couldn't go one night without drinking. You would think you'd be smart enough not to drink since it nearly killed you two days ago.
"Your sons are out there doing damage control right now," she informed, pointing toward the window. "You're lucky Conner isn't pressing charges. I wouldn't blame him if he did. I told him it wouldn't bother me if he did, and that he should." Molly put her hands on her hips. "You have humiliated this entire family. You practically ruined your son's wedding reception. I can't even begin to imagine how Audrey must feel. And for what?" Arthur still couldn't make himself look at his wife, but he picked up that it was a rhetorical question.
"Your mother may have tolerated this type of behavior from your father, but I am not Cedrella. I will not allow this kind of behavior for any reason. And I do not appreciate the way you spoke to me. I am not an object. I do not belong to you or anyone else. Whatever this – this crisis is that you're having right now, you have to figure it out on your own."
Arthur dared to speak up. "Don't you see?" he said weakly. "That's the problem. I can't do this on my own."
"Find someone else to help you because I am done," Molly emphasized in order to make Arthur understand how serious the situation had become. "I cannot keep doing this. Neither can the kids. Do not come back – do not even write – until you are the man I've known for the past thirty-some-odd years. Do not come near me or my kids. And if I hear you are writing to Ginny," she made sure he made eye contact with her and threatened in a deadly quiet voice, "that will be the end of you."
Satisfied that she had said what she needed to say, Molly started for the door. Arthur's voice stopped her. "Stop seeing him," he begged weakly.
Molly faced her husband. "I beg your pardon?"
Arthur sat up straight and repeated more firmly, "Stop seeing him."
"No," Molly defied. "There is no reason for you to feel threatened by him. It's not like we are going to act on anything we may feel for each other."
"For months, you have completely disregarded my feelings on this matter."
"What about my feelings when you ran off and slept with that floozy?" Molly retorted.
"I thought we were past that. You forgave me," Arthur said quietly. "Is that why you continued to see him?"
"No."
"Can't you see all the problems he's caused?" Arthur asked. "I wouldn't go off for no reason."
"You have before," Molly stated. She started to walk away again.
"I remember," Arthur stated.
Molly turned back to her husband. "What's that?"
"I remember what set me off the other night. It was him. I can't remember what exactly it was, but it had something to do with him and you."
"It is high time you stopped blaming others and take responsibility for your own actions, Arthur. Straighten yourself out and prove that you are serious about this family and our marriage, then we can have this discussion. Until then, I am going to do what is best for me. If that is spending time with Conner, then that is spending time with Conner." Finally, Molly was able to leave and did not look back.
Arthur put his head in his hands. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his left hand. Hagrid looked down at him sadly. Kingsley was going to let Gramps talk with Arthur first, but Gramps insisted Kingsley go ahead. Kingsley pulled out a chair next to Arthur. He sat there and waited for the older man to speak.
"I'm sorry, Kingsley," Arthur apologized, sitting up.
"It's not okay, but I forgive you," Kingsley said. "It seems you have a problem, Arthur."
"I know," he admitted.
"How long has this been going on?"
"Months."
"I'm sorry I never caught on," Kingsley said. "I've been so busy I've neglected what's most important: my friends…family."
Arthur shook his head. "You wouldn't've known."
"Well," Kingsley cleared his throat, "let's get this conversation over with. I'm sure neither of us want to have it."
"Are you firing me?" Arthur asked bluntly.
"No. Not yet, at least. And I hope it never comes down to that." He crossed his arms. "The Ministry has various counselling services available to employees and their families. I'm sure you have seen flyers around the Ministry."
Arthur nodded. He did not like where this was going.
"You decide which type suits your needs best – grief, alcohol, anger management, or one of the others. They are at different times throughout the day as well. You can get more information from the flyers. I am requiring you to attend at least two meetings a week."
"Kingsley, I can't do that."
"You are going to have to."
"They'll all know me there. We were on the front page for weeks."
"It's anonymous. And you may know some people there. Everyone there is there for the same reason. There's nothing to be ashamed of," Kingsley assured. "Yours is just more public."
"I can't talk about my problems with those people. Molly has a hard enough time getting me to open up with her."
"I'm not saying you have to say anything. Go and listen. At some point, you may find yourself comfortable enough to share."
"It doesn't work that way with me," Arthur argued.
"You have to go. I'm asking you as a friend and telling you as your boss. Arthur, you are a liability," he stated bluntly. "I can't have Ministry employees, especially department heads, running around assaulting people."
"Okay," Arthur conceded.
Kingsley stood. "And I want you to check in with me once a week. That's not mandatory. I just want to make sure you're doing alright. Let me know if I can do anything to help."
Kingsley left. Hagrid followed, sensing the threat of another aggressive outburst was gone. Arthur stood to leave also, but Gramps put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.
"Sit down, son," Gramps said gently.
Arthur refused to make eye contact. He couldn't face his grandfather after what he had done. His grandparents taught him better than that. That was why he had been avoiding them all night. "I have something I need to do. Tell Gran I hate I missed her tonight," Arthur said quietly.
Gramps sighed as he watched his broken grandson walk out.
Stares and whispers followed Arthur as he made his way through the marquee. He grabbed a glass and a spoon then stood on a chair. He clinked on the glass. The people around him became silent and gave him their attention. A ripple effect spread throughout the guests until you could hear a quill drop.
"Excuse me!" Arthur cleared his throat. Now, his face was red with embarrassment instead of rage. "My family is probably sick of hearing this, but I'm going to say it anyway. I would like to apologize for my behavior tonight. I would especially like to apologize to my son and his beautiful bride. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your night. Thank you." He stepped down off the chair and got out of there as quickly as he could.
A/N: I am sorry this was so long. I hope y'all enjoyed it! Please let me know what y'all thought. Like I said last chapter, let me know if there is something special you'd like to see between the wedding and December.
Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follow! Good luck with everyone's finals! I'll see y'all in Chapter 31. Hopefully, it won't be as lengthy and take so long to post.
Disclaimer: Professor McGonagall's nicknames were not from me. I got them from a Tumblr post.
