Disturbing News

The party began to wrap up a short while later. The only guests remaining were their closest friends and family. Arthur and Molly's steamy entrance was pushed to the back of everyone's minds, except for Trenton, who periodically poked fun at Arthur about it. Crumbs replaced the finger foods on the platters in the kitchen. As for the cake, the candles had long ago been blown out and only a few pieces were left. The Warming Charm over the garden and porches became less effective, but still kept it warm enough for people to socialize outside.

Over the past several weeks, Ron had begun to gradually let his guard down around his dad and Arthur did everything in his power to show his youngest son that things were better. So, it wasn't unusual when Arthur joined the group in the back garden where Ron animatedly relayed what happened during his and Harry's most recent Auror training.

It hadn't been long since Arthur joined when a familiar pain gripped him. He gritted his teeth and tried focusing intently on Ron as he waited for it to pass.

But it didn't.

It only grew worse. The searing of his scars intensified at the same rate as the chest pains. He rubbed at the scars on his side in an effort to relieve some of the discomfort that penetrated layers of flesh and muscle. He was only catching bits and pieces of the conversation now, but Ron's words were soon drowned out completely when a rhythmic whooshing noise that matched his racing pulse filled his ears. His heart pounded hard in his chest. A severe dizziness overcame him, and he reached out with his other hand and grabbed the nearest person's shoulder to steady himself.

Professor McGonagall looked over at him and placed her hand atop his on her shoulder. Her brows knit together in concern. "Arthur, are you alright?"

Ron stopped telling his story and eyed his father warily.

Staring at the ground in front of him, Arthur shook his head and mouthed the word, "No."

Kingsley moved to stand in front of Arthur and put a hand on his shoulder to help steady him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Arthur glanced up at them. "Get Molly," he managed.

"I'll get Mum," Ron said without hesitation. It only took him four long strides to reach the back door.

Molly was easy to find as she was clearing away some of the empty platters on the kitchen table so more seating was available.

"Mum, Dad needs you," Ron said in the calmest voice he could muster.

"Alright, dear, I'll be out as soon as I finish this."

"No – Now."

For the first time since Ron entered, Molly looked over at him. The panic etched in his face told her everything she needed to know. She dropped what she was doing and hurried to the back door. Ron followed close behind and almost ran into her when she stopped short, turned around, and told him to get Alexander.

Ron already knew Alexander wasn't in the back. It was mostly his cousins, but Harry, Charlie, Hagrid, Desmond, and Neil were in the garden as well. So, he decided to check the sitting room first. Just as he made it to the door to the sitting room, Kingsley and Professor McGonagall were helping Arthur through the back door while Molly held it open.

Bursting through the swinging door, Ron almost plowed over Gran, but Gramps quickly put a hand out to stop his great-grandson.

"Whoa-oh-oh!" Gramps boomed. "Easy now."

"Oh – sorry," Ron said absent-mindedly as he somewhat frantically glanced around the room over Gran's head. His Aunts Margaret and Paulene chatted in front of the fire. Percy and Audrey sat snuggled together on the loveseat, more interested in each other than anything else by that point in the night. George was joking around with some of their cousins, which was good as long as it kept him distracted; while he had been doing a lot better since his twin's death, he was still extremely fragile and the family figured it best not to get him too worried, especially where their dad's condition was concerned.

Each passing second made it more difficult for Ron to conceal his panic.

Picking up on Ron's increasing anxiety, Gran asked, "Are you okay?"

Having not spotted Alexander, Ron finally looked at Gran and Gramps. "Have you seen Uncle Alex?"

"On the front porch," Gramps replied.

Something clicked for both him and Gran as the words left his mouth: what could make Ron so anxious and why he would need Alexander. He and Gran shared a concerned look. They passed Ron to go the way he came at the same time he passed them to find his uncle.

Ron inhaled deeply as he opened the front door and stepped into a cloud of smoke from Trenton's cigarette, causing a great hacking cough to briefly put a pause on his mission.

"Sorry about that," Ian apologized for Trenton. "We keep telling him he needs to move away from the door."

"I'd move if there was a swing somewhere else, but there's not, so I'm staying here," Trenton lazily defended himself.

"We've told you to swap places with Elaine. You'll still be in the swing, just not in the door," Ian said with a hint of annoyance from where he sat between Trenton and Elaine on the porch swing.

Ron looked down the length of the porch as his uncles continued to bicker. There were quite a few more people out there, and clouds of cigarette smoke were scattered about before rising to congregate in one large cloud under the porch ceiling. Bill leaned against the weathered railing in front of the porch swing while Fleur had taken up residence in a rocking chair; if he hadn't been in such a rush, Ron would have been more surprised to see Fleur out there around all that smoke when she and Bill had recently announced they were trying for a baby. A few other cousins were out there, both on and in front of the porch. There was still no sign of Alexander.

Squeals and shouts pulled Ron's attention to the yard where several orbs of light hovered ten feet above the ground. The youngest relatives, all bundled up in their winter wear, played in the snow out from under the Warming Charm. He spotted Alexander kneeling on the ground near a patch of red snow just before he was tackled and several children dogpiled on top of him.

Trenton and Ian burst out into raucous laughter. Bill and others who had been watching followed suit. Ron, on the other hand, jogged out there to help his uncle up.

"Thanks," Alexander chuckled as Ron gave him a hand up while fighting off children at the same time. "I think someone dropped a Dungbomb in there – or at least, I hope it was a Dungbomb."

"Yeah, yeah – My dad needs you."

"Alright," Alexander said casually, thinking Ron seemed agitated because of the children.

Ron practically ran to the porch and back into the house while Alexander made his way back at a leisurely pace, brushing snow off his clothes and out of his hair on the way.

By the time Alexander got to the porch, Trenton and Ian had returned to their bickering.

"If someone doesn't want to be around smoke, they shouldn't come to the 'Designated Smoking Area,'" Trenton said in a mocking tone while using air quotes, "which I think is completely absurd. There's never been a 'Designated Smoking Area' here before, just as long as it wasn't in the house."

"Oh, give it a rest, Trent," Alexander said tiredly as he stepped onto the porch. Apparently, Trenton's complaining about this particular subject had been going on for a while.

"No, I understand why we can't have booze, but no one in our family has ever cared about being around cigarette smoke. No offense," Trenton said to Bill, "but your mum's going overboard with all this."

"You know, it's not just family here," Ian said.

"A little smoke never hurt anybody – and if it does, it's nothing a little magic can't fix."

Alexander glared at his bull-headed younger brother. He thought he knew why this new rule had been imposed. If Arthur would just tell them already, things would be much easier. "Just swap with Elaine, won't you?" he said. "It's not that big of a deal. Besides, it goes into the house whenever someone opens the door."

Trenton finally relented.

"I just don't see what the big fuss is," he continued as he traded seats with Elaine. "I mean, I'm sure just about everyone has been out here at some point today, so what's the point of a 'Designated Smoking Area?'"

Ian put his arm around his wife's shoulders. "I don't think Molly has," he pointed out.

Briefly thinking on that fact, the only reason for Molly's absence from the porch that came to Trenton's mind was that she would be pregnant; that was pretty much the only reason any woman in the family actively avoided being around cigarette smoke. "You reckon she's pregnant and they just haven't told anyone yet?" he mused before directing his next question at Bill with an upwards nod. "Your mum pregnant?"

Wearing a slight frown and an expression that plainly read "You can't be serious," Bill flatly answered, "No. I'm pretty sure they're done having kids."

"Arthur's not been out here though, right?" Alexander asked nonchalantly, trying to fish for information without raising any questions.

"He's been out here a good bit – talking – joking around – bummed a couple smokes. Don't see why any of that matters though," Trenton said.

"He was smoking?"

"Shite. I wasn't supposed to say anything." Trenton looked around their group. "Just don't let Molly find out, yeah?" He put a new cigarette in his mouth and lit it with the tip of his wand. "So, Louisa alright, then?" he asked in an effort to distract everyone from his slip up.

"Oh, yeah. That wasn't blood at all. Turns out it was an elaborate plan to use a busted juice box to lure me out so they could tackle me." Alexander leaned against the four-by-four supporting the porch's roof and crossed his arms. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" He quirked an eyebrow.

Trenton smirked. "Or maybe my grandkids are just devious little tykes and are beginning to rub off on yours."

"Come on, I don't get any credit?" Ian exclaimed indignantly. "It was my daughter who came and got you, after all."

The front door cracked open and Ron's head popped out. "Uncle Alex," he interrupted.

Alexander did not make a move. "I've not forgotten. I'll find him in a minute." He returned to teasing his brothers. "You colluded with our grandchildren – and you even implicated Little Louisa," he said in mock disbelief. He tutted and shook his head. "Desmond's not gonna be happy about that."

Trenton feigned shock and rested a hand on his chest. "But it was her idea."

"It'll be her idea the day you stop being a pain in my arse." He tried to keep a straight face, but only lasted a second before a huge grin broke through, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Ron stepped onto the porch, partially closing the door behind him. "Uncle Alex, you don't understand. My dad needs you," he interrupted again. "Something's happened."

Finally understanding how serious the situation was, Alexander straightened up and uncrossed his arms. "Where is he?"

"Kitchen."

Without another word, Alexander passed Ron. The front door opened just as he reached for the doorknob, and Gramps stuck his head out.

"Alexander –"

"I'm coming."

Ron and Bill followed close on their heels. Trenton and Ian shared a bewildered look before Trenton stood and handed Ian his crutches from where they laid beneath the swing then gave him a hand up. Trenton took one last, long drag on his cigarette then flicked it into the yard as he followed Ian.

oOoOo

After getting Arthur in a chair, Professor McGonagall and Kingsley stood back to give him some space. He had sworn he didn't need the hospital and Molly didn't seem too awfully worried. Surprisingly calm would be the best way to describe how Molly was acting; she sat beside Arthur and stroked his hair while asking him questions, which he couldn't really answer at that point, and assuring him it wouldn't be much longer. Upon entry, Gran had immediately gone to Arthur and began to rub his back, taking a seat on his other side, while Gramps went over to Kingsley and Professor McGonagall to see what they knew.

Arthur sat bent forward in a chair, bracing himself up with his elbows on his knees and a hand on his chest. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it was trying to break free from his ribcage, and he swore he could feel it thumping with his hand. The heat from his scars could also be felt through both his undershirt and his button-up shirt. Extreme, sharp, stabbing pains made it feel like the Cruciatus Curse was being performed only on his heart. Droplets of cold sweat beaded on his forehead. His breathing became more rapid and shallow with each passing moment.

It felt like an eternity had passed, but in reality was only a few minutes, when Gramps decided to go see what was taking Alexander so long after Ron went out for a second time.

Finally, Alexander came in trailed by Gramps, Ron, and Bill. A second later, Ian entered then immediately stopped upon seeing the state Arthur was in. The door flung him further into the kitchen when it swung open and hit him in the back, but he caught himself on a chair. Trenton didn't seem to notice he'd accidentally thrown his younger brother a couple feet as he, too, became focused on his other brother.

Kneeling in front of Arthur, Alexander remained calm and commanded, "Arthur, look at me."

When he looked at his eldest brother, Arthur noticed for the first time that his vision kept going in and out of focus.

"Deep breaths." Alexander placed two fingers on the side of Arthur's neck to check his pulse. Upon discovering how fast his heart was pounding, he added, "You need to lower your heart rate. Slow, deep breaths – In…Out…In…Out…"

While Alexander walked Arthur through breathing and lowering his heart rate, Trenton sidled up to Gramps, his eye glued to Arthur. "Gramps…what's going on?"

Ian approached them. He ran a hand over his spiky hair, his crutch dangling from his arm. "Yeah – Is he gonna be alright?"

Gramps put a hand up slightly. "Why don't you both go back outside, and act like nothing's wrong?"

"Gramps, what is wrong?" Trenton asked. They'd witnessed panic attacks on occasion over the years from Neil, but it was never anything like this.

Gramps took a deep breath. In all honesty, he wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he had a feeling it had something to do with the Dark magic, which Arthur had asked them not to tell anyone about. He didn't want to lie to his grandsons, so instead, he said, "You'll find out, in time. I promise."

But Trenton and Ian still didn't leave.

Over at the table, Bill placed a hand on Molly's shoulder. "Mum?"

She turned her head and looked up at him.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"I'm more worried about your dad right now," she said quietly, so Arthur wouldn't hear, though he probably wouldn't have even noticed.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure Uncle Alex can handle it."

Molly looked back at Arthur and Alexander. I hope so, she thought.

Arthur finally regained control of his breathing and his vision became clear. The whooshing in his ears stopped as well. The pain in his chest and scars, however, remained.

Satisfied Arthur's heart wouldn't literally explode and that he wouldn't hyperventilate, Alexander asked, "What happened?"

Arthur still couldn't quite find his voice.

"Panic attack?"

Arthur shook his head.

After removing his hand from Arthur's pulse point, Alexander noticed the bright red scar on his neck standing out vividly against his unnaturally pale skin. He had reached back up to touch it when Gran's voice stopped him.

"Alexander," she said softly, and he looked over at her still sitting beside Arthur. "Your hand."

He turned the palm of his outstretched hand to himself and looked at it. A thin line of blood crossed his hand where it had been resting on Arthur's neck. He glanced up at the scar then back at his hand before proceeding to brush the former with his fingertips. It was hot to the touch, beyond feverish; it felt like he stuck his hand in a stream of steam. It must have gone unnoticed when he'd been so focused on helping Arthur calm down. Alexander stared at the red substance now on his fingertips, his brows knit together in confusion.

Arthur's scars were…bleeding?

Looking over his shoulder, Alexander calmly spoke to the room as a whole. "There are too many people in here. I need you all to please leave the room."

Professor McGonagall and Kingsley silently exited through the back door. Bill directed an ashen-faced Ron to the back garden as well to avoid giving anything away to George. Gramps held his hand out to help Gran up then they started to corral their other two grandsons back through the sitting room.

"But, Gramps –" Trenton began to protest.

Gramps didn't feel like he was lying when he said, "We don't know what's going on, but your brother will handle it." He gestured to the door with his cane, and his grandsons obeyed.

"We're gonna figure this out," Alexander assured his younger brother. "I'm going to run some tests and check you over. Is it okay if Molly stays?"

To Molly's relief, Arthur nodded.

"Your shirt needs to come off," he told Arthur. His knees popped as he stood up to go wash his hands, close the blinds, and lock the doors.

Leaning back in the chair, Arthur tried undoing his shirt. His hands trembled so badly he kept fumbling with the buttons, so Molly helped him. When they took that one off, it revealed specks and streaks of blood showing through his white undershirt. He didn't need any help pulling the bloodstained undershirt off, but he did not protest when Molly assisted anyway. The rest of his scars from the snake attack were just as red as those on his neck.

Alexander positioned a chair to face Arthur and sat in it. "Are you still in any pain?" he asked as he pulled his wand from his belt.

Arthur nodded. Pain still shot through his chest and his scars still burned with an intense ferocity, but to a lesser extent. "Yes, but it's better."

"Okay. Let me know if it gets worse again."

Molly slipped her hand into her husband's. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it came across as more of a grimace.

"Alright," Alexander said. "Find something to focus on – or just close your eyes – and relax. Molly, I'm going to need you to move behind him for a few minutes. Neither of you pay any attention to what I'm doing. It's nothing to worry about. I just don't want you to see something that might give you the wrong impression."

"Okay?" Molly dragged out the word with great uncertainty as she slid her chair back several inches, taking Arthur's hand with her.

"I promise. It really is nothing to worry about. All I'm doing right now is taking a few minutes to observe the Dark magic, and for someone who doesn't know much about this, they may see something that spurs their imagination and frightens them."

Completely and utterly exhausted, Arthur closed his eyes and quickly dozed off as Alexander began muttering an incantation. Molly used her free hand to soothingly stroke his hair.

After Alexander finished the incantation, each of the vibrantly red scars on Arthur's neck and torso became shrouded in a stationary, black glow. A little deeper, dozens of small, snake-like shadows darted through his veins and arteries, some disappearing below his waist, only to return to a large, undulating, intertwined cluster of them over his heart.

For the next ten minutes or so, Alexander studied their movements, somehow managing to keep a blank face the entire time. They gradually slowed until finally all returning to the cluster, which also settled, stopped moving completely, and became more compact; however, it remained in a knot that resembled a tangled ball of black yarn instead of becoming an amorphous orb like it had been not even two months ago. The scars faded to a dull glow, but did not disappear either, which Alexander wasn't really expecting to clear up anyway.

"Arthur, how do you feel now?" Alexander asked, but his brother did not answer. "Arthur?"

Molly rubbed his shoulders from behind. "Love?"

Arthur's eyes fluttered open. He shook himself awake. "Sorry, what was that?"

"How do you feel?" Alexander repeated. "Your chest and scars."

Arthur thought for a moment, paying close attention to what his body was telling him. "It's just kind of a…dull ache…and sore."

"Good. It should go away soon, but it's only natural that you'll be sore for a couple days."

Alexander watched the Dark magic for another few minutes, making sure that it wouldn't start up again now that Arthur was awake. The shadows began to move again, but remained sluggish. When it was evident nothing was going to worsen, he terminated the spell and told Molly she could move her chair forward again.

"Do you have any disinfectant and a rag I can use?" he asked her.

Once she fetched them from the cabinets, he cleaned and healed the scars. They weren't deep, but the fact the three-year-old scars had reopened so easily troubled him. He was pleased, however, to note they had returned to body temperature.

For a little while, the only sound in the room was Alexander muttering incantations as he performed a series of intricate and complex spells, performing more tests. He found it increasingly difficult to maintain his composure throughout the process as his worst fears were confirmed, but he managed. Finally, he stowed his wand and sat back.

He looked from Molly to Arthur then spoke four words that would change things drastically. "It's no longer dormant."

The couple sat in stunned silence. Molly's grip tightened on Arthur's hand, but he only stared at his eldest brother.

"How much damage has been done?" he asked.

"A significant amount, but I can't tell exactly how much without your chart, and I want a cardiac specialist to get involved now since things have escalated."

"A significant amount?" Molly repeated faintly.

"From what I can tell, his heart function is still in the average range, so that's a nonissue right now," Alexander assured. "What we do need to be concerned about is the rate at which it is decreasing. If we can figure out when the curse became active, it can give us more insight. It would raise more concern if it just became active today versus if it became active a month ago. Figuring out what triggers these episodes would be extremely beneficial as well." He looked at Arthur and, even though he thought he already knew the answer, asked, "Have you had any other episodes like this, that wasn't after a nightmare?"

Molly answered before Arthur had a chance, afraid he wouldn't be completely honest. "Yes, he has."

"I can answer for myself, thank you," Arthur told her.

Alexander looked his brother in the eye. "Listen, Arthur, it is crucial that you are completely honest with me about everything now. I understand you went through a period of denial – it's only natural when someone gets big news like this – but it's not done you any favors."

"I've not been in denial. I was –" He took a deep breath before continuing quietly, "I was afraid of what we'd find out – that things had gotten worse – or that it had become active – and there was nothing that could be done – but I think I've known it's been active for a while now."

"Art, it's okay to be afraid. It's instinct. Without it, the human race would cease to exist because we wouldn't know any different. It's a defense mechanism," Alexander consoled. "So, you have had other episodes like this?"

"Yes," Arthur answered, "but not to this extent."

"When did they start?"

"The day after my appointment with you – It was the anniversary of the attack."

"And how many times since then?" Alexander said as he leaned his chair on its back two legs, so he could grab a notepad and self-inking quill from the counter behind him.

"Three, I think – including this one."

"Anything they all have in common? What you were doing? Time of day? Day of the week? Emotional state?"

"I don't think so."

"Have you noticed a pattern? Say, for example, you have an episode every ten days?"

"No. The first two were only a day apart. The next one wasn't for a few weeks. And now, it's been another few. I do feel like it's gotten worse each time, though."

"Three and a half weeks, both times," Molly clarified.

Arthur looked over at her. "What?"

"From decorating to the hospital, it was three and a half weeks, and it's been another three and a half weeks since the hospital 'til now." She went over and pulled the 1998 calendar out of a drawer and took the current one off the wall after marking on it. Arthur took this opportunity to put his white undershirt back on. While she showed the men the little red x's in four squares, she said, "The nineteenth and twentieth of December, the thirteenth of January, and today, the sixth – I've been keeping track in case it was important," she added to the puzzled expression on her husband's face.

Alexander wrote these dates on the notepad.

Taking back over, Alexander said, "Walk me through the hours leading up to each episode."

"The first time, I hadn't slept at all, I'd had a lot of coffee, I helped Gramps a bit, and then I came back here and cooked breakfast."

"I noticed he looked awfully pale and his scars had gone pink while we were eating," Molly added as she returned to her seat after putting the calendars back up. "I wanted to call you, but he insisted he was fine. Instead, he slept most of the day."

"Did you feel any different?" Alexander asked Arthur.

After thinking briefly, he said, "I was a bit nauseous and light-headed, but I felt fine when I woke up. At the time, I really did think it was nothing, maybe because I hadn't slept or because of all the caffeine, but then it just kept happening."

"Why didn't you sleep?"

Arthur hesitated. "The nightmare tends to be worse on the anniversary of the attack."

"Ah, I see," Alexander said while he jotted down some notes. "And the second time?"

"It was the next day. I hadn't eaten much because we'd been busy decorating. I'd felt a little…off, for a couple hours, then I fainted while putting lights on the house."

"And he was extremely pale," Molly chimed in again, "but he insisted, once again, that he didn't need you."

"Last time was at the hospital after Trent and I got into it," Arthur continued. "It came on very suddenly that time, and it was worse – chest pains, light-headedness, nausea, my scars burned a little, my heart was beating irregularly…And you know what I've been doing today."

"Okay." Alexander spoke while he finished taking shorthand notes. "Well, the caffeine and the argument definitely would have increased your heart rate. As for decorating…that's not particularly strenuous, but I suppose if you'd gone nonstop all day, that could've had an effect. Or" – he stopped writing and looked at Arthur – "anxiety could have a lot to do with it even though these aren't panic attacks. It seems you were pretty anxious the first time it happened and then with Gramps being in the hospital…Were you anxious about anything that day, when you were decorating?"

Arthur nodded. "I was seeing my kids for the first time in a couple months, after everything I'd done. I was extremely anxious – especially around Percy or Charlie or Ron, because they were the most upset with me."

"I think it's safe to say that probably played a major role with that episode." Alexander took more notes. "What about today? Have you been anxious? Has anything increased your heart rate – other than when you first got here, of course?"

"Not really." He glanced over at his wife, who had her eyes downcast. "I mean, Molly and I…snuck upstairs a couple hours ago."

Alexander didn't bat an eye, but Molly still turned scarlet.

"I don't think that would be it, though," Arthur stated. He really didn't think his and Molly's mid-party escapade would have had anything to do with it, but if Molly thought it had, he'd probably never have sex again. "This time was sudden as well, but it did take a few minutes before it got bad."

"Well, if you felt fine for those two hours, it's highly unlikely those events would be related," Alexander agreed, much to Arthur's relief. "Nothing closer to the episode?"

"Don't think so."

"And you've not been anxious today?"

"Not really."

Alexander set the notepad and quill in his lap and crossed his arms. He studied Arthur for a long moment as he thought. Molly began to worry again and looked over at her husband to see if his color had changed, but Arthur remained unfazed and stared back at his eldest brother. He could see the gears turning in his head, so he didn't want to disrupt his train of thought.

Finally, Alexander spoke. "You've looked tired the past few times I've seen you. Besides the first week Gramps was in hospital, have you been getting enough rest?"

"I've been having problems sleeping," Arthur confessed.

"Why is that?"

"I don't think that's relevant."

"It might be."

"It's not."

Alexander fixed him with a stern look. "You need to tell me everything now, Art, even if you think it's irrelevant."

"Love," Molly said. Arthur looked over at her. "If you don't tell him, I will," she softly threatened.

Arthur hesitated. Molly gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "The nightmare, alright? Since we found out the nightmare is linked to the curse, I've been afraid of it causing more damage, or it sending me back to St. Mungo's, or – or not waking up at all."

"That's understandable," Alexander said. "But not sleeping isn't helping you any. You need sleep. And now there are other things to consider as well. The curse is no longer restricted to that nightmare. It's a constant threat now, so" – he made sure his younger brother was looking him in the eye – "you need to take care of yourself. Now, if you don't intentionally stay up, you should take a Sleeping Draught, and that should also prevent the nightmare."

"It does – or, it did a few years ago."

"Then it should still have the same effect. Now, what about stress? Have you been under a lot of stress recently?"

Arthur stared at him in disbelief. "You really have to ask?" he said incredulously.

"People deal with situations differently and I don't know everything going on in your life."

"Yeah – Alright – Yes," he snapped. "I have been under a lot of stress. I've been dealing with this" – he gestured to his chest – "I have to put up with people sticking their noses in my business or constantly checking up on me. I barely sleep. I'm still regaining my children's trust and grieving the loss of my son. And the guilt from what happened to Gramps is still hanging over my head. Is that enough information for you?" he shot.

Letting his brother's little outburst slide, Alexander kept a straight face. Arthur had been through a lot the past month, let alone the past year. Knowing it would do no good trying to pursue any of those topics right now, he made a mental note to try at a later time and continued on. "A simple, 'yes,' would have sufficed," he said evenly. "Now, what about work?"

"I've gotten caught up," Arthur answered, "putting in a lot of overtime."

"What about the day-to-day? I mean, running a department can't be easy."

He scoffed. "Of course it's not easy. What do you think I –"

But he stopped short and turned his attention to Molly when delicate fingers gently stroked his shoulders.

"You're doing it again, dear," she softly pointed out, brow furrowed.

Realizing she was right, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He absolutely loathed how short his fuse still was. Despite having quit drinking and being in an altogether better place, he continued to have trouble controlling his temper sometimes. Once he was calmer, he told Alexander, "There is a good bit of daily stress."

"Alright. What about your diet? Are you eating healthy?"

"For the most part."

"I make sure there's only healthy food at home, and I always pack him a healthy lunch," Molly chimed in. "But he does sometimes have a treat – a doughnut, or a piece of cake, occasionally I'll fix him some bacon, and I think he might have a cookie or two at his meetings."

Arthur turned his head just enough to glare at her out of the corner of his eye. Ian and Trenton were the only brothers who knew about the meetings; Ian found out purely by accident, and Arthur only told Trenton because they were so close and swore not to keep secrets from each other anymore. While Alexander was his Healer, there was no reason he needed to know about the meetings; it was none of his concern. Arthur braced himself for some question or comment, but Alexander didn't seem to even pay any attention to the part about the meetings.

"That's fine," the elder Weasley said. "Something every once in a while shouldn't hurt. Are you staying away from caffeine?"

"Um…It depends."

Molly cleared her throat next to him. He grimaced.

"Alright, fine. I've been drinking a lot of coffee, especially when Gramps was in hospital. Since I've not been sleeping well, it helps me stay awake when I need to."

"How many cups do you have in a day?"

"Too many," Molly said.

"A few," Arthur answered.

Even though he did not get a definite answer, Alexander got the impression that it was far too much. "You need to cut that out, because that's too many for anyone. How many have you had today?"

With a shrug, Arthur said, "Just three."

After scribbling on the notepad, Alexander studied him for several long seconds before asking his next question in an extremely serious tone. "Have you been drinking?" While he didn't know about the meetings, he did know how big of a problem his brother's drinking had become.

Arthur faltered, but Molly swiftly answered for him. "No, he hasn't," she said.

Feeling like it could be counterproductive to cover it up, Arthur corrected his wife's statement. "There was an incident, but other than that, no."

"When Gramps was in hospital?" Alexander asked, not passing judgment.

"No."

Brows knit together, Alexander said, "Not tonight."

Arthur's silence was answer enough.

"Merlin, Arthur, if I'd have known that, I wouldn't have given Benjamin the option to stay. I –"

Arthur held up a hand to stop him. "It's my own fault, and now we're done talking about this," he said evenly.

Following Arthur's lead, Alexander dropped it and continued, "Okay. Last question, have you been smoking?"

Arthur hesitated again.

"Look, I already know," Alexander confessed when his brother still hadn't answered. "Trent let it slip – and he said you've been on the smoke-smothered porch a lot today, too."

While Alexander already knew, Molly did not…and she was not happy.

"Arthur – Septimus – Weasley," she said with unusual calm, causing Arthur to cringe, "you know better than that. The whole reason I restricted smoking to the front of the house was so you wouldn't be around it, and you knew that. But do you care? No! You will knowingly endanger your health by going out on that porch and smoking cigarettes and inhaling smoke from everyone else's cigarettes. I have tolerated the caffeine, but I will nottoleratethis."

Arthur ducked his head. "I'm sorry, dear," he apologized meekly. "That was very stupid of me."

Arms crossed, Molly asked, "How much have you been smoking, hmm?"

"Not much. I'll have two or three cigarettes in a week, just every once in a while."

"How could you be so stupid?"

"I-It helps alleviate some of the stress, or if it's particularly difficult not to drink, then I might have a cigarette."

"Arthur, it doesn't relieve stress. It actually increases it, and it increases your heart rate. Even just being around it has similar effects," Alexander cut in to explain before Molly could continue scolding her husband. "How many have you had today?" he asked before adding, "And remember, Trent's already given me a rough number."

Arthur glanced at Molly out of the corner of his eye then looked back at Alexander. "Five."

Molly huffed, but made no further comment.

"Am I correct in assuming that was spread out over the duration of the party?"

"I had three earlier, but not at the same time. The other two were closer together."

"When exactly was that?"

"Not long ago. I went from the porch to the back garden. Everything started soon after that."

"Well, that and the mounting stress – and possibly the coffee – seem to be what caused the episode today."

Alexander spent a few more minutes scribbling notes in tiny handwriting. Molly sat glaring at her husband and silently fuming. Even though he tried ignoring her, Arthur could feel his wife's eyes boring holes into him.

When he finished the notes, Alexander flipped back through and skimmed the other pages, holding it far away from his face since he didn't have his reading glasses. When he finished, he set the notepad in his lap and looked back up at the couple in front of him.

"From what I can gather, an increased heart rate, no matter what raised it, is what triggers the curse. The first thing I did after everyone left was observe the Dark magic. As you relaxed, it slowed down until you dozed off, and then it stopped completely. When you woke up, it started moving again at a very sluggish pace, and that did not change the rest of the time I watched it. That information – that behavior and what you told me – supports the theory that an increased heart rate energizes or agitates it, causing it to lash out."

"But my heart rate's been raised plenty and I've not felt a thing," Arthur countered.

"That's why it's not conclusive. There is still a lot to be learned about this curse – You know, it may not have anything to do with heart rate. There may be a commonality that was overlooked. But for now, until something tells us otherwise, you need to try to keep your heart rate down – and also your blood pressure because that could potentially be another trigger, and if it is and you develop high blood pressure, I'm afraid to think what might happen. Arthur" – Alexander leaned forward and held intense eye contact with his brother – "you need to understand how important it is to take care of yourself now. Keep eating healthy, no drinking, no smoking, cut out caffeine completely, get plenty of sleep, and figure out a healthy way to reduce your stress."

"I understand," Arthur said.

"Well, there's something I don't understand," Molly said. Her anger about the cigarettes had subsided as Alexander's explanation of the situation distracted her. "What brought the curse out of dormancy?"

Sitting back, Alexander asked, "The first episode was on the anniversary of the attack?"

Arthur nodded, but Molly gave more specific information.

"Well, the day after," she said. "He was attacked late at night on the eighteenth, and the episode was first thing in the morning on the nineteenth."

"Other than the nightmares, the curse has had a delayed reaction. It didn't become completely active until three years after you contracted it. That's how some curses are. They remain dormant for a specified amount of time and until then, they silently cause damage in small enough amounts that you don't notice it. Then you go so long after the event without having any other significant problems you think that's it and everything is behind you. Like with you, for example. After you healed, went home, and regained your strength over the next few months, you probably thought that was it, there would be no more complications."

Arthur shrugged. "Yeah."

"And if you hadn't had that panic attack, we wouldn't know about the curse and you probably would have waited a while before going to a Healer for cardiac issues. By that time, not only would we have lost the three years it was dormant to learn about it, but it would have already caused a significant amount of damage. So in having a delayed reaction, the curse gains an advantage." Realizing he had gone off into a long explanation without directly answering his sister-in-law's question, he added, "So, short answer, Molly: Time. Time brought it out of dormancy."

Arthur rubbed his face. "That's what Bill said," he sighed, slowly shaking his head. "I shouldn't've dismissed it so easily."

"What did he say?" Alexander inquired.

"That some cursed objects use a delayed reaction to lull their victims into a false sense of security before having detrimental effects," he quoted almost word for word. "He said that back before Christmas."

But Alexander did not hear anything past the first sentence. That particular phrasing – "to lull their victims into a false sense of security" – brought forth a vague memory that had been buried in the depths of his mind for forty years. He wasn't sure what took him so long to remember it after the countless hours he'd spent digging through tomes over the past several weeks. Even though that was not the first time he had heard that sequence of words in his career, perhaps he needed to hear them again, at that particular moment, in order for that piece of the puzzle to click into place. Lips pressed in a thin line, he shook his head and let out a sharp exhale of breath.

"What is it?" Molly asked.

Alexander sighed heavily. "I just remembered something. There was a book I read when I was in Hogwarts. A section of it described, I think, four or five similar cases: The victim had been bitten by a magically-altered animal and contracted a curse…with a delayed reaction…that targeted the heart. Now, I don't know if it will be helpful, because that's all I remember, but it is worth a look."

"That was such a long time ago. Do you even remember the title?" she asked. "Hogwarts has tens of thousands of books."

"Well…no," Alexander admitted then hastily added, "but I can see the cover, and I think I know the area of the Restricted Section it was in. I'm also sure Madam Pince would be able to help if I have trouble finding it."

"Alex," Arthur spoke up, "don't spend an ungodly amount of time looking for it, especially since it may not be any help. It's okay if you can't find it." Knowing his eldest brother all too well, he knew Alexander would look through every single book in that library until he found it, especially since it was a close relative who could potentially benefit from it. He also knew telling him not to become obsessed with finding it would not hamper his efforts, but it had to be said.

Looking his brother in the eye, Alexander solemnly swore, "I will find it, Art. If there's the slightest chance it could help you, I have to find it."

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up too high, and I don't want you to spend all your time on my case. You have other patients, and you have your own life, and you need to take care of yourself, too," Arthur said.

"I know, I know," he said dismissively with a wave of his hand. "It won't take up all my time."

"Really?" Arthur asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because your wife is worried about you, Alex. Margaret was telling us earlier that you've been…distant recently. She said that, for over a month, you've been spending your days off holed up in your home office doing research and don't even come to bed until three or four o'clock in the morning most nights. She knows it's work-related, but you've never done this before and you've not talked to her about it. When I said not to tell anyone about my condition, I didn't mean for you to keep it from your wife too. She needs to know why you've been acting this way and you need someone to talk to."

"Ar-"

Arthur put a hand up and said, "Wait. I didn't want you to turn your entire life upside down when you became my Healer. You assured me you could handle it –"

"I can."

"If it's going to be too hard for you –"

"It's not."

"Then stop obsessing over this," Arthur stressed. "Spend a reasonable amount of time doing research. Don't give my case any special treatment that you wouldn't give your other patients. If you can't find something or can't figure something out, it's notyourfault," he emphasized greatly, looking him in the eye. "I know you always try your hardest. And listen, I really don't want to change Healers because this has taken over your life or caused you problems, because you are the best Healer the Cyprian Youdle Ward has seen in a hundred years."

"Okay, I'll admit I may have gone a little overboard, but…we're racing a clock here, Art, and I don't want anything to happen to you, so if there's something I can do –"

"We're not kids anymore, Alexander," Arthur interrupted softly. "You have to understand that there are some things you can't protect us from, and this might just be one of them."

Eyes narrowed, Alexander whispered, "You think I don't know that?"

"I think you sometimes forget that."

Alexander shrugged. "Well, what can I say? Old habits die hard. I'm going to do what I can, but I won't let it take over my life," he assured. He breathed in deeply then blew out a long breath and ran his hand through his hair. "Now back to the matter at hand. I'm going to advise that you take some time off from work – a month-long sabbatical at least. That way, you can catch up on your rest and you won't be under as much stress and can take that time to learn healthy ways to cope with it. I also find it necessary for you to spend a week or two in the Cyprian Youdle Ward for observation; the length you stay is dependent on what we can find out."

Since his suspicion that the curse was no longer dormant had been undeniably confirmed and because what just happened frightened him so much, Arthur was not going to argue – but if he did, it wasn't like Molly would give him a choice anyway. He would call in a favor from Kingsley to have paperwork for a sabbatical expedited and would stay at St. Mungo's for as long as necessary; however, he was wary about one thing: Going so long without a meeting. Last time he went a single week without one, he came terrifyingly close to drinking. He had also come to realize over the past couple months that the counselling really did help. Looking back, Kingsley requiring him to attend those counselling sessions was probably the best thing anyone could have done for him at the time. Even though alcohol would not be easily accessible in the hospital, everything had been going so well with Molly and the kids he didn't want to risk it. With that in mind, he asked, "Will I be able to leave at all?"

"No, you need to be there twenty-four hours a day so we can monitor your condition. If something happens when you're not there, that's more information we've lost out on, not to mention the incredible risk if it's as bad as what happened tonight," Alexander explained. He paused then added, "You have no idea how incredibly close you were to going into cardiac arrest."

Arthur bit his lip. He knew how serious his situation had become, but he didn't want to do something about the curse if it could potentially cause him to spiral out of control again. Going back down that hole would be worse than anything the curse could do to him. "Look, there is somewhere I have to go," he tried conveying the importance of an occasional absence without giving away too much information.

"Where?"

"It's important. That's all you need to know," he tried again.

"If it is that important, an exception can be made, but as your Healer, I have to know where it is you're going and for how long."

Arthur bit his lip again and frowned as he contemplated what he should do.

"Dear, just tell him," Molly nudged, knowing exactly what this was about from his behavior. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm actually proud of you for it."

Finally, Arthur gave in, though reluctantly and without meeting his brother's eyes. "I go to meetings – the counselling sessions – twice a week at the Ministry – for my drinking. It's mandatory, though I can get out of it with good reason, but I've come to find it's quite helpful…and necessary," he finished quietly.

"Arthur, she's right," Alexander said. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I feel better knowing you're not trying to manage that on your own."

Arthur visibly relaxed. Every time someone found out that he was getting help, they were always supportive and never judged him, but the fear of ridicule did not diminish. Of course, he needn't worry about that from his family, but that fear still lingered in the back of his mind. The main reason he didn't want to tell his brothers – or anyone else for that matter – was this irrational belief he had that by admitting help was a necessity he was also admitting he was weak. But he couldn't quite get out of that mindset despite being told by Molly and his grandparents that it was the exact opposite – that successfully managing his addiction because he got help actually showed how strong he was while unsuccessfully attempting to cope on his own because he was afraid to get help showed weakness.

"And it shouldn't be a problem for you to leave for – what – an hour and a half, tops? I'd have to clear you to leave and you would go straight there and back – and I can trust that you won't do anything you shouldn't, like smoking or drinking caffeine, right?"

"Right."

"And I know you want to keep this on the Q.T., but it would make me feel better if you told someone there what's going on in case something does happen – but that is ultimately up to you."

While he did want to keep this quiet, Arthur had to admit his brother had a point. If he felt another episode coming on, it would be best if someone was able to take him straight back to the Cyprian Youdle Ward or at least knew to get Alexander. He thought on this for a brief moment. Amos was the most obvious choice since he was his closest and oldest friend at the meetings, but he only attended on Mondays and Arthur didn't want to tell more than one person unless absolutely necessary. Out of everyone he met and befriended at the meetings over the past several months, his second choice would have to be Peter. Sure, the lad was always extremely talkative, loud, nosy, and didn't understand personal boundaries, but he was never one to gossip or divulge secrets, could be relied upon and trusted, and went to multiple meetings a week. Besides, it may appease his curiosity if he finally got to hear the story behind the scars that so intrigued him; he hadn't mentioned them again since their supposed first encounter, but Arthur would sometimes notice him staring.

"Alright, I'll do that," he told Alexander. "I already have someone in mind."

"Good," Alexander said with a nod. He glanced down at the watch he'd bought himself when he'd been promoted to Deputy Healer. It read 9:32. "Everyone else should be clearing out soon. You can finish the party if you feel like it, but I would rather you come to St. Mungo's tonight; however, first thing in the morning is also an option."

"I'll let you know in a bit."

"Do either of you have any other questions?"

This was a chance for Arthur to ask a question he'd been contemplating since Alexander informed them that the curse had become active: What was the outlook now? How much time did they have to figure out how to treat this?

But he didn't. This was something he wasn't sure he wanted to know just yet. Besides, Alexander may not even know the answer anyway. Instead, he shook his head, and to his relief, so did Molly.

"Alright, then we're done here," Alexander said, tearing off the several pages of notes he had taken. He neatly folded them up before carefully placing them in his pocket.

While Arthur pulled on his button-up shirt and began fumbling with the buttons, Alexander wandered over to the window above the sink. There was one more thing he needed to bring up, and had once before, but he wasn't sure how to now: Their brothers. Arthur's situation had just become much more serious. With the curse no longer dormant and still practically knowing nothing about it, there was no way of even estimating how much time was left before the clock ran out. At this point with other patients, he would tell them they needed to let their loved ones know if they hadn't already, and it wouldn't be too difficult for him to do so; however, with this being so close to home, he couldn't find the words.

"Hey, Alex?" Arthur's voice behind him grabbed his attention, and he turned around. Then, as if Arthur was reading his mind, he quietly said, "What you said a couple weeks ago, I shouldn't put it off any longer, should I?"

He shook his head. "No, you shouldn't. It's time you told our brothers."

With a frown, Arthur nodded. "Molly, can you tell Gramps I'm calling a family meeting tonight? See if he can let my brothers know. Tell our kids, too."

"It's already pretty late and you have to be exhausted. Are you sure you want to do this tonight?" she asked.

"I don't have a choice anymore. It has to be tonight. Tell them eleven. Everyone else should be gone by then. It will give Ginny and Hermione plenty of time to get here and I can talk to Kingsley. I need to lie down for a bit, too."

Molly looked very much like she didn't want to leave him, but she pecked him on the lips and went off in search of Gramps and their children anyway.

Seeing that Arthur had only gotten two buttons done due to the shakiness in his hands, Alexander returned to his seat and took over for him. He spoke to Arthur as his older brother now. "I'm not gonna ask if you're alright because I think I already know the answer to that, but" – He glanced up at him – "how are you?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't know."

"Just because you're telling them, it doesn't mean anything," he tried to assure as he continued buttoning his brother's shirt. "I thought you should've told them weeks ago – and that's only because we've always been so close, not because I thought it was that serious yet."

As Alexander buttoned the last button a few seconds later, Arthur asked, "Am I a coward?"

"What? Of course not! Arthur, you're one of the few people who actively took part in the war. You were on the frontlines since the beginning."

"That's not what I meant."

"What, because you were afraid to find out the curse is active?"

"I guess that's part of it."

"What's the rest of it?" Alexander tentatively ventured.

"You know what, nevermind. It doesn't matter."

"It must matter since you brought it up." When Arthur remained silent, he said, "If I've ever once judged you or any of our brothers, you don't have to tell me – Honestly, you don't have to tell me either way, but I've always hoped you guys would feel like you could come to me with anything."

"It's not you, Alex," Arthur said weakly. "It's just something I don't talk about."

"Maybe you ought to talk about it if it's bothering you. I've found many times when talking helped."

"You wouldn't understand."

With a shrug, Alexander said, "Maybe, maybe not. You'll never know if you don't say anything."

"You know, I don't even know why I brought it up. I need to save what little energy I have for the family meeting anyway," Arthur said then pinched the bridge of his nose.

Alexander nodded, but didn't look satisfied. "I hope you can trust me when you are ready to talk about it. You're my brother, and I love you, and I like to help when I can, even if it is just lending an ear."

"I know."

Alexander gave him a hand up. They stood there for several seconds while Arthur got his bearings. Thankfully, Arthur's legs weren't as weak as they felt.

"You good?" Alexander asked.

"I think so."

With that, Alexander held the back door open for him. As soon as Arthur stepped outside, his sons hurried over while Harry, Kingsley, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall hung back.

"Dad!" Ron exclaimed.

"How are you?" Bill asked.

"What happened?" Charlie followed up.

"I'm okay now, and we've gotten things under control."

"What happened?" Ron pressed.

"We're going to have a family meeting tonight at eleven. All your questions will be answered then."

"It's that bad?" Charlie said.

"Please continue to keep this to yourselves."

"You still want to keep this quiet?" Bill asked incredulously.

Alexander rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder and quickly whispered in his ear, "I need to ask Minerva a question. Try to keep your heartrate down and get me if anything starts to feel off." He headed over to the group around the picnic table.

"You can't expect us to keep this a secret – or worse, lie about it – when other people know something's wrong," Charlie said.

"Yeah. What are you going to tell Uncle Trent and Uncle Ian? They saw whatever happened in there. You know they're going to ask what the hell that was," Bill told his dad.

"It's not fair on us and it's not fair on them," Charlie added.

Arthur held up a trembling hand to silence his sons. "Yes, I understand all that and I appreciate you giving me this long. I just need a couple more hours. Your aunts and uncles will find out tonight, but I will be the one to tell them."

"What if they ask us before then?" Ron asked.

"You won't be lying because I've not told you what happened either," Arthur explained. "Now, I need to talk to Kingsley and then I need to lie down for a few minutes."

When Arthur approached those standing around the picnic table, they all turned their attention to him.

"Oh, Arthur, we're glad you're feeling better," Professor McGonagall said.

"You really had us scared for a minute," Kingsley said.

"Yes, well, thank you both for helping me inside." Too tired for small talk, let alone any other conversation, Arthur got straight to the reason he'd come over and asked, "Minerva, would it be possible for Ginny and Hermione to leave school – just for the night?"

"Of course," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't see why that would be an issue."

"I'm actually going to Hogwarts in a few minutes. They can come back with me," Alexander offered.

"Thank you," Arthur said. He didn't have to ask him why he was going to Hogwarts. He knew Alexander would spend the time before the meeting looking for the book he'd mentioned earlier.

"I don't mean to shoo you all away, but I need to speak with Kingsley alone," Arthur continued.

As the others dispersed, Arthur sat halfway on the top of the picnic table to give himself some support without having to use as much energy as if he'd sat on the bench. Kingsley took the liberty to cast Muffliato so Arthur wouldn't have to.

"I'm sorry I keep dropping the Quaffle, Kingsley, and I don't want to take advantage of our friendship or your position…but I need to take a sabbatical – at least a month – starting Monday."

"You've had a rough go of it lately, but you've gotten your life back in order. You may fall behind sometimes, but you're one of the hardest working employees at the Ministry and always make things right. Besides, I pushed you into taking this promotion. As far as I'm concerned, you've not taken advantage of anything. And I know you never ask anything without good reason," Kingsley said. "Does this sabbatical have anything to do with what just happened?"

"It has everything to do with it," Arthur answered. "And I would not ask this if it weren't absolutely necessary."

"Okay. Drop off the paperwork first thing Monday morning and we can talk more then."

"Umm…I won't be able to do that. I have to stay at St. Mungo's for a couple weeks," Arthur informed. "Could I send it with Percy?"

"Sure," Kingsley said. "Can I know what's going on?"

"Can't I put 'health issues' as the reason on the paperwork?"

"Well, yes, but I just wanted to know as your friend."

"My family doesn't even know yet," Arthur said in answer.

Kingsley nodded his understanding. "Consider your sabbatical approved, and let me know if there's anything else I can do," he offered.

"Thank you," Arthur said as he pushed himself up from the table.

After bidding them all a good night, Arthur went back inside to lie down. At the same time he stepped through the swinging door to the sitting room, Trenton came in the front door looking very upset. The brothers' eyes met.

Trenton slammed the door behind him with a force that rattled the house and drew everyone's attention to him. Ignoring their eyes, he strode up to Arthur and demanded, "What are you finally gonna fucking tell us, eh?"

Almost instinctively, Arthur grabbed him and shoved him into the nearest empty room, which happened to be the cramped water closet beneath the stairs, and shut the door behind them. He cast Muffliato as a second line of defense while Trenton continued to pelt him with questions.

Arthur interrupted him in a calm, low voice. "What do you know?"

"Nothing! Because no one will tell me a damn thing!" Trenton shouted, red in the face. "So what is it you've been keeping from us?" he pressed.

"What makes you think I'm keeping something from you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because when Molly was talking about the family meeting, Gran asked, 'He's finally going to tell them?' and whenever I ask what's wrong, they tell me it's not their place to say. What do they know that we don't?" he demanded even more fiercely.

"Okay. I understand you're upset, but making a scene in front of everyone is not the way to go about things. No one deserves to find out abruptly because you bullied it out of me, and some people won't take it as well as others as it is. It's not always about you, Trent! Do you want Neil to have a panic attack or Desmond to dissociate? And God forbid George find out like that!" Arthur shot, his voice rising with each sentence.

"Well – Of course not – But –" Trenton stammered then croaked, "We swore no more secrets."

Arthur calmed down almost as quickly as he got worked up. He rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I know, and it pains me to keep this from you. It really does," he lamented, "but I needed time."

"What is it?" Trenton asked flatly.

"I planned on telling you when it was just the two of us, but that's no longer an option – and I would tell you right now if I had the energy, but I'm exhausted, so you're going to have to find out with everyone else."

"J-Just tell me," Trenton begged.

Even though he suddenly felt even more tired than a minute ago and ignoring the fact he'd become a little lightheaded, Arthur mustered up enough energy to tell his brother something he felt he needed to know. "Trent, you are the most important person in my life next to Molly, and I'm sorry I put it off this long. You didn't deserve that. No matter how upset you may be with me for keeping this from you, I hope you'll stand by my side for whatever's to come like you have my entire life."

"You're scarin' me, Art," Trenton choked. "Stop it."

"I feel like I have to say this."

"Well, don't," Trenton spat, eyebrows lowered. He stepped back, bumping into the toilet, and Arthur's hand slid off his shoulder.

Arthur continued despite Trenton's protests. "You're more than my brother, Trent. You're my best friend. You always have been. We never say this, but…I love you, and thank you for always having my back."

"Either shut up or tell me what the fuck's wrong right now!" Trenton growled as he pushed Arthur against the door.

Arthur remained unfazed. Trenton's reaction didn't surprise him. Despite however much he tried to intimidate him, Arthur knew he wouldn't actually do anything, especially after what he'd witnessed in the kitchen. It was his way of hiding how scared he was. Arthur could tell he'd already been afraid and he knew his words didn't help ease his fears.

"I'm sorry," Arthur apologized. "You're gonna have to wait. I just wanted to make sure you knew all that." Finally giving into his exhaustion, he asked, "Will you help me upstairs so I can lie down? I promise I won't say anything else."

Trenton huffed then looked him over and softened. All the fight out of his voice, he breathed, "Yeah."

Without further comment, Trenton helped him upstairs, his legs trembling more with each step.

When they got to the master bedroom, Trenton asked, "Do you need anything else? Water or a cold rag or something?"

"No, thanks. I just needed someone to make sure I didn't take a tumble," Arthur replied wearily as he set his wand on the bedside table and laid down on top of the covers.

Trenton remained just inside the doorway and watched his younger brother almost immediately fall asleep. Molly came up a moment later. So as not to startle him, she touched his arm. He tore his gaze from his brother and looked down at her.

"What's wrong with him?" he whispered somewhat tremulously.

He'd already asked her something along those lines three times when they were outside, not to mention however many times he'd asked his grandparents and Arthur. The desperation in his voice grew each time and so did the sorrow in her heart. This man who she'd came to love as a brother long ago had already lost two extremely important people in his life and only wanted to make sure nothing was going to happen to his other best friend. She wished to give him the assurances he needed, but knew they would only be lies.

She opened and closed her mouth then told him, "Your grandchildren are leaving. I think Elijah is about to go as well."

Trenton poked his head out the door and looked down the stairs then back at Arthur.

"He's not going anywhere," Molly said.

He continued to stare at his best friend. His bottom lip trembled for a second before he bit it.

"Go on. They're just as important, if not more."

He looked down at her again. "Can you promise it's not life-threatening?" he asked almost inaudibly, not daring to trust his voice with any more volume.

After a moment's hesitation, she shook her head and said, "No…but I don't believe Alexander would have left him unattended if he thought it could change that quickly."

With one last look at his brother, Trenton finally followed her instructions and went downstairs to tell his children and grandchildren good-bye.

A/N: There we go! I ended up having to do more on this than I thought and I hate it took so long to post, but it turned out better after more editing and adding the end! It actually turned out to be tied for the longest chapter next to "An Eventful Wedding Day" at approx. 11k words, so hopefully that makes up for the time delay. Let me know what y'all think.

Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows since last chapter!

I'm so glad y'all are still enjoying the story and even rereading it! All reviews are welcome, especially the lengthy ones. I'm always so excited when I get a notification about a new one and love reading them!

Next up…the family meeting.