As a young father Arthur had always been determined to not make the same mistakes of his parents. He vowed to never hurt any of them, neglect any of them, ignore, hit, shame or other wise make any of his children feel that he did not love them. None of his children would fall prey to middle child syndrome as he had. His children would all feel special. It was not until years later, when it was already too late, that Arthur would realize he had failed.
He had failed in Percy.
It was four months after the end of the war. Little Ginny had recently been born, a girl finally in the family. They now had two babies and three-year-old twins. Those four alone were a full plate but then three older boys were already there too. Thus, it was a noisy house. Work at the Ministry was still intense despite the war being over. Life had to be rebuilt after it had been nearly destroyed. Arthur worked hard to fix the cracks the wizarding war had made in the muggle world virtually on his own. Everyone else was seeking out Death Eaters in hiding, confiscating items of Dark Arts, holding trials, healing those tortured and cursed, reuniting families, rebuilding Diagon Alley, and millions of other tasks in their world. Only a handful could be spared to care about the muggles. Arthur was one.
"Charlie!" Molly yelled up the stairs. "Charlie you get down here and clean up this mess!"
Baby Ron was crying in her arms while Fred and George were tearing around the den.
"Charlie! Don't make me come up there!"
"Molly…" Arthur murmured from where he was working at the kitchen table.
His work was spread out around him on the table. There were still muggle sites which needed reconstruction as well as cursed objects to be confiscated. Arthur had to organize reconstruction and he had to find time and, more importantly, people to confiscate any suspected booby traps left over in muggles house by the Death Eaters.
"Sorry dear," Molly said quietly to him then yelled again. "Charlie you are nearly 10 years old now you can clean up your own toys!"
Arthur rubbed his temples and groaned.
"Ok, ok, mum!" Charlie came bounding down the stairs. "I'll do it!"
"Daddy?" Five year old Percy tugged at Arthur's pant leg.
"Yes?" Arthur asked with a haggard sigh.
He glanced at Percy then opened a new file on some recent muggle deaths by some remaining Death Eaters. It seemed that some of those not yet caught by the aurors were trying to strike out as they could to cause havoc in their anger at their Lord's defeat. Muggles were easy targets.
"Daddy, can you read some "Mrs. Maggie's Wizard History for Young Witches and Wizards" with me?" Percy asked.
Arthur looked down at his son. Percy was standing beside Arthur's chair in his pajamas holding up the thick maroon book. Only his nose and large brown framed glasses could be seen over the top of the book.
"Um… not at the moment, Percy. I have to deal with these forms and reports from work. You can read it without me this time."
Arthur turned back to his pile. Percy was an exceptionally good reader on his own for his age Arthur knew. Reading the file, Arthur found that a whole muggle family had been murdered last week by a Death Eater. It was probably Avery sneaking about to let off steam. Arthur did not believe a word of his cry of 'Imperious' at the trial.
"Oh Merlin…" Arthur muttered.
It seemed the family's young daughter had survived. Arthur would make sure she received some proper care at St. Mungo's. They couldn't just leave her. Sifting through his piles Arthur looked for a 'magical injuries to muggles' form.
"Dad?"
Arthur looked down to see Percy still standing beside him book down at his side now.
"Yes, Percy?"
Under a folder on the Sussex explosion last month Arthur found the form he was looking for.
"We could just read a little… so, so you could get back… back to your work quick."
Arthur sighed and placed his quill down on the table.
"I'm sorry, Percy, not now. Go on and read it yourself or ask your mother. I have a lot of work to do. The muggles need me after all that's happened. You know that, right?"
Percy fidgeted. "Yes… but I like reading it with you."
Arthur smiled. "Next time, ok?"
He ruffled Percy's hair and turned back to his work. It was nice to see that Percy liked to read about history. He would probably do very well in History of Magic at Hogwarts. Now, this young girl, her name was Melissa, had been subject to the cruciatus curse. Her brain was severely damaged. Arthur took off his glasses and put his hand over his face. Little muggle Melissa may never leave St. Mungo's again. It was terrible how the muggles could be dragged into something they had nothing to do with and no way to fight. Opening his eyes again, Arthur picked up his quill and began filling the form out.
"Charlie!" Molly suddenly yelled. "Do not tease your brothers like that!"
"Don't worry, mum!" That was Fred.
"Yeah, mum, we can handle him!" That was George.
Amazing how feisty they already were at three. In the den Charlie, Fred and George were racing around the couch. Charlie was armed with a toy wand while Fred and George were each bravely fighting him off with large spoons from the kitchen. Looking up, Arthur saw Percy now walking up the stairs with his book. How Percy would be able to read with this racket Arthur did not know, he could barely work.
What Arthur didn't realize at the time was that the point, to Percy, was not just the reading.
The kids tore through the wrapping paper like starving dogs on an already dry bone, not that Arthur had ever really witnessed such a thing. However, he was witnessing the decimation of a good deal of wrapping paper now. Five year old Ginny was somehow wearing a piece of green sparking charmed wrapping paper as a cape. She kept climbing up onto the sofa and jumping off while flapping her arms.
"I'm going to be an owl!" she kept saying.
"Of course, dear," Molly said as she bustled around the children trying to save any wrapping paper that could be salvaged for use next year.
"Can I transfigure with this?" Fred asked as he bounced in front of Arthur waving his new toy wand around.
"What about mine?" George chimed in, shoving Fred to the side.
"Boys, calm down!" Arthur said, putting his hands on top of their heads to still them, though it hardly worked.
Arthur and Molly had tried this year to get every one of the children something brand new. In years past it had been harder and harder to do so with new children coming. Hand me downs and used gifts were fine but they all deserved something new. The twins both got toy wands and exploding snap decks. Percy got a box of new quills. He was very excited about Hogwarts next year and wanted to practice writing essays. Arthur didn't understand it but if that's what he wanted then so be it. Ron got his own toy broom and Ginny was given a muggle jewelry kit and a new dress. Bill and Charlie had been harder. They were getting older and, thus, had more expensive tastes. Luckily he'd found a nice reasonably priced book on Chinese Fireballs for Bill. He'd been expressing an interesting in dragons lately and Arthur thought it might be good for him to learn more.
"Mum, my sweater doesn't fit!" Ron whined.
Arthur chuckled as Molly went to help him pull it down over his head.
"Honestly, Ron," she cooed.
"Dad! Dad! Look!" Ginny was squeaking from the couch. "Look! I'm a green owl!" She jumped off.
"There's no such thing, Ginny," Percy said from the other end.
"Yeah, there is!" Fred said.
"Yep," added George.
"No, there isn't," Percy insisted, shifting his glasses.
"Are you sure?" Fred insisted right back.
"Uh…" Percy faltered.
"Fred!" Molly snapped.
The twins burst into laughter and Percy flushed, looking down at his quill box. Arthur suppressed a chuckle.
Bill was not home this Christmas. He had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays to be with his new muggleborn girlfriend. They had sent him some new dress robes and fizzing whizbees with his Weasley sweater. They weren't the most exciting presents but he needed them.
"Mum, I'm gonna go read in my room," Charlie said, standing up.
"Alright dear, we're having lunch at 11:30."
Arthur smiled at the chaos that was their den. The little Christmas tree they'd gotten from the woods was shaking its pine needles in time to the music. Molly had just had to give it a personality when she put on the charmed tinsel. (It was probably a girl too.) Wrapping paper that hadn't been picked up and carefully folded away by Molly was shoved up against the base of the tree.
Fred and George were trying out their exploding snap cards amid the pile of boxes. Molly had picked Ginny off the couch and was engaging her in dancing with the tree. Percy was dipping his quills in different inks, seeing how they wrote. Ron was sitting at Arthur's feet watching his broom float up and down four feet.
Perhaps, it was a more modest Christmas than some but they were happy. Everyone had Burtie Botts and chocolate frogs to satisfy their sweet teeth. They were together and these were his children, his wife, and his home. Money was tight but not important. He was happy and Christmas showed him every year how much real wealth he had.
"Dad!"
Arthur looked down at Ron.
"What, Billy?"
Ron frowned at the pet name from his middle name and whined again, "Daaaaaad!"
"Ok, ok, yes?"
Ron grinned, "Happy Christmas!"
Sighing happily, Arthur patted Ron's head and looked at the mess of red hair, wrapping paper, couch pillows, and pine needles.
"Yes, Happy Christmas, Ron."
The Ford Angelina had been quite a find for Arthur. He'd always wanted a car, wanted to look at the engine and figure it out. He'd found the Ford at a scrap shop with only one tire and apparently missing some vital engine parts. Arthur couldn't tell you which.
"Arthur!"
Molly was calling him from the kitchen. However, Arthur's hands were full and oil was smudged on his face. He wasn't going inside now.
"Yes, Molly?"
"We're having lunch in here, aren't you coming?"
Arthur flipped a page in the car's manual and pointed his wand at the back left tire.
"No, I'll come later. I'm in the middle of this."
"In the middle of a puddle of oil you mean."
Arthur laughed and said a spell to patch the hole in the tire, inflating it at the same time. Knocking his knuckles on the top, Arthur deemed the tire fixed and looked back at the manual.
It was amazing how many different parts and systems were in this one machine! Arthur hardly knew which part of the car did what, even with the manual, after 3 weeks of owning. Still, it was just so fascinating. He'd spent most of his spare time in the garage fiddling with it.
A few Thursdays ago he'd tired to make the engine work. He'd replaced the thing called the 'fan belt' because the manual mentioned one and his car seemed to have torn it up. He'd figured out a spell to give the battery more power so you'd basically never have to replace it. Still he couldn't get the engine to turn over. It took him 2 days to realize that muggle cars ran on gas and Arthur's Ford Angelina had none. He'd devised a way to make a mixture of dragon hide, daisy root, and fluxweed to work as fuel instead, not to mention it was cleaner.
Today Arthur was working on fixing the tires and making them impervious to punctures and wear. He wasn't sure if his efforts were doing any good or not, a knife could still slash the rubber. Arthur wanted to remove that possibility.
"I need a good barrier spell…" Arthur muttered, "or a strengthening charm… but it's an object…"
Arthur glanced at the manual, dripping some grease on the page. Looking up out of the garage, Arthur sighed. There had to be a way to take stress off the tires so they would never need replacing! As he looked out the door a bird flew by and he blinked.
"I could make it fly!"
Raids could be good and bad Arthur knew. Sometimes the right pointing of a wand would get what you needed, other times you ended up with a burnt robe. Some people almost didn't care that you were taking some old thing that their grandfather or someone had saved. However, more often they put up a bit of a fight. After all most people didn't like anyone taking what they thought was their rightfully owned property.
"I can't believe you dragged me along…"
Perkins was muttering beside him. He looked sullen and kept glancing behind them as if someone was going to yell at them for doing their job. The two aurors with them glanced at Arthur. He just shook his head to ignore it and knocked on the door, wand in hand.
"Who is it?" A screechy voice replied.
"Ministry of ma-"
Arthur was cut off by a curse flashing just over this left ear. They all ducked and Arthur sighed.
"Ma'am we just need to-"
"Get away from my house!"
Looking down at his roll of parchment Arthur looked for the woman's name. Clearly she was not going to be happy that Arthur had been authorized to seize her 'box of ages' which was supposed to drain the life of anyone who opened it without the proper incantation. A ministry census taker had discovered it when a house elf dropped dead while he was in the parlor asking the woman how many people lived in her home.
It just so happened that this "box" was actually a muggle postbox that had been charmed and spelled into this creation. Apparently it was an ancient form of muggle catching, though it couldn't have been too ancient because how old were post boxes anyway?
"Mr. Wealsey?" One of the aurors looked at him.
"Do what you can. I'm afraid we have to go in," Arthur replied.
"Yes, sir."
A tea cup flew past Arthur's head and shattered on the pavement. Perkins groaned and put his clip board over his head.
"Away you scum!" She screamed again, curses flying.
It was going to be one of those nights.
The Quidditch World Cup was not something one got a chance to attend many times during their life, especially with Ireland playing. Arthur had been so pleased to be a part of it, helping the event and bringing his own children. Their seats were fabulous and Arthur had felt it was going to be a time he would never forget. Sadly he was right for the wrong reasons.
The first thing he did was to get the children out of the tent and away. He knew they were confused and scared but there was no time. Arthur had to get them away.
"We're going to help the ministry!" Bill, Charlie, and Percy were beside him, wands at the ready. "You lot- get into the woods, and stick together." He fixed the twins with a look that said, 'you're in charge.' "I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"
He had smelled the change in smoke first. When he'd gone to bed it had only been a slight whiff of campfire but the stench of burning fabric closer than it should be had made him jump from his bed.
"Dad?" Arthur turned to Bill who'd spoken as they ran off toward the noise.
"Percy, go and find Crouch. Bill and Charlie, come with me."
Percy ran off to the left with a nod while they continued on. People were running franticly all around them. A witch wearing curlers in her hair, running with her arms in the air, rammed into Arthur, knocking him to the ground.
"Dad!" He heard shouted.
Someone stomped on Arthur's hand and he groaned, pulling it to his chest. Another person nearly tripped over him and Arthur heaved himself away and to his feet.
"Bill? Charlie?" He shouted, but they were no where around.
Pushing through the people, Arthur tried to shout above the sound of the crowd.
"Head toward the woods! Everyone try to remain calm and get to the woods."
Arthur didn't seem to be doing much good but in the end it didn't matter since most people were heading in that direction anyway. Arthur could see tents on fire in the distance and people all around were screaming.
"Help! Help!" He heard somewhere.
"No!"
"Get away!"
"Run!"
Arthur turned left and right, trying to decided where to go. Where were his children?
"Arthur!"
Arnold Peasegood suddenly grabbed Arthur's elbow, pulling him out of the stream of running people. Arnold's robe was torn at the shoulder and he was sporting a bloody nose. Cuthbert Mockridge and Dirk Cresswell were with him.
"What happened?" Arthur asked.
"Woman thought I was one of them and threw her box of money at me. Made five galleons."
Arthur laughed in spite of himself.
"You think he's kidding," Mockridge said, coughing.
"Come on then," Peasegood said, "the squad is trying to control the crowd and get them to a safe distance. Some of the Obliviators have gone to make sure the local muggles are safe. The rest of us are after the Death eaters."
"All right."
"Cresswell and I are going to help the people in the woods," Mockridge said as they turned off to the left.
Pushing their way through the sea of tents, hot ash, and people, Arthur and Arnold went toward the glow in the distance. Getting closer they could hear the screams more clearly.
"Arnold… what is…"
"Oh my God."
Before them the family of muggles that rented the moor was suspended in the air, turning over and over. The wands of more than a dozen hooded figures were pointed up at the struggling and terrified figures. He could laughter and jeers coming from the Death eaters. Arthur felt rage surging through him.
"Vile, inhuman…"
He ran ahead of Peasegood, zig zagging round people and burning tents. Ash threatened to blind him but he ran on. It smelled like the entire field was burning around him. Ahead of him Arthur saw an auror hurling curses at the circle of death eaters. He thought he saw a flash of pink somewhere and he heard Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice.
Sliding to a stop, Arthur caught a Death eater in his sights and shouted 'expelliarmus!' The Death eater moved at the last second and heads turned toward him.
"Blood traitor!" He heard and hit the ground as a cruse screamed over his head.
As Arthur rose to his knees someone shouted, "Dad, look out!"
Jerking his eyes to the left, Arthur saw Bill pointing but didn't dodge in time. Yelling in pain he fell back again, a quick stab of crucio hit him in the chest. However, the caster must have been distracted because the pain disappeared only a second after it hit him. Arthur struggled to his knees and stood up.
"Dad, you alright?" Bill was beside him.
"Yes, where is Charlie?"
"I don't know, we got separated."
Arthur glanced to the side and suddenly saw a wand pointed at them.
"Bill!" He shouted, shoving him away.
He wasn't fast enough however as the curse caught Bill's arm, flinging him backward. Arthur turned quickly, leveled his arm at the caster, and caught him in the chest with a blasting curse causing the hooded figure's wand to go flying and to send him flying back. Whirling around again, Arthur kneeled beside Bill. A deep gash was on his arm.
"It's ok," Bill said.
"Bill…"
"No, dad, we've got to go."
Arthur suppressed his parental concern and helped Bill up. As soon as they stood Arnold Peasegood was at Arthur's side.
"I hit one right in that ugly mask they wear!" He was grinning.
"Well, come on," Arthur said.
The three hurried off to the right trying to follow the voices of the shouting aurors.
"To your right! Your right!"
"Follow them!"
"Don't let them get you!"
"Can't anyone get close?" Arthur asked Arnold.
"No, the outer circle keeps shooting off curses all around. Two aurors are already seriously injured.
"Shit…" Bill muttered.
They were close enough now to be able to feel the extra prickle of curse magic in the air. There were aurors in front of them, wands blazing. He saw Kingsley Shaklebolt dive behind a fallen tent.
"Weasley!" A shout suddenly came
Arthur looked and saw one Death eater mask from the circle turned their way.
"Um..." Bill began.
Then the figure raised his wand.
"Arthur Weasley, muggle loving vile scum!"
Arthur pointed his wand but the curse hit him before he could speak; he hadn't even heard the words spoken. It felt like his bones had been replaced with glass and every movement of his body caused stabs of excruciating pain. He fell over gasping.
"Oh, Mer-" He couldn't speak.
He screamed and gasped, pain at any movement, pain from breathing. It felt like his body was rejecting him, trying to push him out with needles.
"Dad!"
He couldn't' see. His vision was blurred. His fingers hurt, even his fingers felt like they were all broken!
Then it was gone. Arnold was shouting a curse, Bill was at his shoulder, and he was just breathing.
"Arthur, get up," Arnold was speaking.
"Oh…" Arthur kept breathing heavily.
"Come on, Arthur," Arnold grabbed his right hand and Bill grabbed his left. "One, two, three, up!"
They heaved Arthur to his feet making him gasp sharply at the after effects of the curse.
"Was it the cruciatus?" Bill asked.
"No… something else," Arthur responded, picking up his wand with a little difficultly bending. "My bones felt like they'd splintered, like glass."
"Is that my… I've got to go!" Arnold said suddenly looking off to the right.
"Where…" But Arnold was sprinting away with no further explanation.
"Dad, look, Charlie," Bill said, pointing off to the left.
Charlie came running up to them, a rip in the front of his shirt. Amos Diggory was with him looking exhausted and red in the face.
"Was helping…" Charlie gasped, "to put out the fires…"
"We managed to contain most of it," Amos continued.
They all nodded.
"Have you seen Percy?" Arthur asked Charlie.
"Yeah, he was organizing people with Crouch."
"You ok?" Charlie asked seeing Arthur's gasping.
However, before he could answer the sound of screaming increased ten fold and Amos shouted, 'look.' They all turned to where he pointed to see the green, terrifying glow of the dark mark in the sky above the trees of the woods.
Arthur's body inadvertently trembled, images of his children flashing before him. He apparated.
During the first war Arthur had stayed more on the outside of the fight. He had worked hard at the ministry to try and protect the muggles who were being hurt in a fight they knew nothing about. He wrote laws, confiscated items used to harm muggles but he always worked within the law. Often working within the law had only gotten things done after the damage had occurred.
Arthur tried to protect his family and stand up for his principles during those dark times. But he had to be careful. His first child had been born in 1971, just when you-know-who was rising in power. All that time he had a new family to nurture and protect. He couldn't be the reckless Gryffindor he'd grown into. The calm nature of his pre-Hogwarts days was what he needed.
Now, his youngest child was 14 and his elder ones were a part of the Order of the Phoenix, fighting along side him. Arthur was now within the heart of the resistance, working for the law and outside of it. He couldn't act as he did during the first war now that there was a second.
But even from this part of the fight Arthur could see the caution and fear in his fellow fighters. Many had that look in their eye that asked why they did so much. He knew they had to trek on harder than ever but that didn't mean it was easy.
Even from the inside Arthur could not help, now and then, wishing he could be back out.
One might not expect it from a son that dealt with dragons breathing fire and burning his skin every day but Charlie loved snow. Love of snow was a common interest which Arthur and Charlie shared. Arthur always thought Charlie loved snow to balance out his love of dragons, hot and cold. Then again in the long view dragons were not terribly active during the winter so Arthur imagined that loving snow helped give Charlie something to occupy his time during the dragon light season.
When Arthur was young he had learned of a muggle activity called sledding. Basically you sat on a fancy board which was usually painted red and rode it over the snow down a hill. Arthur supposed it led muggles to feel like they were flying. Thus, before Molly would allow Charlie on a boom to go snow soaring Arthur took him sledding.
"Are you sure about this, da?"
Charlie was five.
"Of course I am."
The two of them were sitting on a red metal muggle sled which Arthur had bought in downtown London. He had seen these other things called skis there as well. Arthur learned you were supposed to stand on them and go down hills like sleds. Now sleds he understood because you were close to the ground and thus would be mostly safe without magic to catch if you should fall off of the sled. However, the skis were meant to be taken off of what were called 'ski jumps' which propelled you far into the air and to then hopefully land on your feet. Arthur loved muggles and all their ideas but there were times that he questioned.
"Yeah, but what if we want to stop?" Charlie asked.
Charlie was in front and Arthur in back.
"We'll stop at the bottom of course," Arthur replied.
He had to admit he was excited. The snow was perfect now and still coming down.
"Stop or crash?"
For a five year old Charlie was rather cynical.
"Either one…"
"Can I throw the first snow ball if we crash?" Charlie asked, turning back to look at Arthur.
"And I do if we just stop."
They shook hands and shoved off down the slope.
They started off slowly then quickly gained speed. Wind rushed around them, full of snow. The rushing was loud in Arthur's ears but he could still hear Charlie laughing and instantly he smiled. Just before the hill leveled off, a bit faster than Arthur had expected, he realized it did feel very much like flying. They bumped and actually bounced into the air for a moment at the bottom of the hill. Coasting for a moment more they finally tipped over to their right into the snow.
Both Weasleys lay in the snow looking up at the snow still falling until Charlie sat up.
"I told you we'd crash!" Charlie was grinning widely with snow on his face.
He'd lost his hat somewhere and his cheeks were red. Mitten covered hands pushed on Arthur's chest, digging snow into his cloak.
"Crashed, crashed, crashed!"
"We did not. We just tipped over. Not the same as crashing is it?" Arthur said sitting up and pushing Charlie onto his back in the snow.
"Crashed," Charlie giggled up at him.
"We did n-" Arthur was cut off by Charlie hitting him in the face with a snowball.
Arthur shook the snow off him and huffed. "Cheater."
Charlie just laughed and pointed to the sled. "Let's go again!"
Muggles definitely had some good ideas. Arthur did wish more people could see that. Sledding was indeed fun.
When Charlie was ten they went snow soaring. Snow soaring was actually similar to muggle sledding. You flew up on your broom into a snow fall then let go of the handle and allowed the snow wind to carry you around. It could a peaceful ride, just floating about or you could be pulled sharply all around, snow stinging and attacking. It all depended on the snow fall.
"Dad, this is amazing!"
Before they even got a foot off the ground Charlie had liked it.
"Just be sure to grab your broom if to begin to feel unsteady."
Now Charlie could get to the snow before it reached the ground. He flew high up above Arthur's head then let go of his broom, letting it take him slowly downward in a spiral. Arthur had been sure to take Charlie up in a snow fall that was unlikely to send him spiraling downward without his broom to his death. Now seeing Charlie looking up at the snow clouds above him with such an expression of joy on his face made Arthur want to laugh in happiness. When ever Charlie was happy it made Arthur feel doubly so, like he was doing some right.
"Dad, I am now a snowflake," Charlie shouted in a mock serious tone to Arthur as he guided his broom back up.
"A rather big one."
Charlie just laughed and held his hands above his head, snow circling about them.
Now as Arthur sits at the kitchen table with Charlie across from him he thinks of snow. Certainly it has been awhile since the two of them went sledding or snow soaring but its still there. The day is December 12th, Charlie's birthday, but there is no snow outside yet.
"So, Charlie," Arthur asks, "anything particular you want for your birthday?"
"I thought you didn't give me birthday presents anymore?" Charlie is being facetious.
Arthur shrugs. "Well, twenty five is an important age, half way to thirty after all."
"Can you make it snow?" He teases again.
Arthur laughs then his face changes to become serious, "Just for you, Charlie."
It snowed a meter and a half the next day and they went snow soaring for two hours.
Five years. Sometimes it really didn't seem like it had been that long, but it had. Five years of being a family of eight instead of nine. Five years of saying one name where they usually said two. Five years since the battle, since the war, since the initial loss. Five years and Arthur could still feel the pain in his gut, a constant companion in place of Fred.
"I have the candles," Molly said lining up three red candles on the kitchen table.
"All right," Arthur replied standing at the back door looking out over the back yard.
The house was quiet that night. None of the children lived at home anymore. They were all out living lives and Arthur found the daily quiet and calm somewhat unsettling. For years the household ran on commotion and noise. They shouted and fought and made up and sort of tumbled through life. When one had seven children it was really impossible to make life go smoothly. Arthur would not have changed it. Yet now it seemed very empty.
In the backyard the wind made ripples through the grass, ripples like children running through it. Two small boys who matched in face and demeanor would run and chase the gnomes. George would give Fred a piggy back ride so they could appear larger when scaring them. Before Arthur's eyes he could see them grow: The two of them hiding out behind the shed working on some new clever and probably mischievous idea. The two of them learning how to fly on their broom sticks. Fred telling George about his first crush when he thought Arthur could not hear. Fred sitting under the tree by himself charming the leaves so they were purple or blue.
Once Fred had helped Arthur organize his battery collection for father's day. He'd just given him a very large one which was square shaped.
"It's a car battery," Fred said.
"Muggle cars have batteries? I thought they used that gasoliane?"
Fred grinned. "That too but I swear it's a battery from a car."
It looked a lot different than Arthur's other batteries. It looked more like a box. All the other batteries in his collection where cone shaped or rectangle, pocket sized. Yet sure enough right on the top it said 'battery' along with some other information about + and -.
"Where did you find this, anyway?" Arthur asked.
Fred waved a hand and changed the conversation to something about motorbikes. Arthur noticed the tell tale grin on Fred's face though. He hoped that the battery wasn't from a nearby muggle neighbor.
Looking at the empty grass, Arthur's chest felt tight. Fred had been the quieter of the two babies at night. George would cry at 3 AM and Fred would just lie beside him gurgling softly. Arthur had always wondered why Fred didn't join in the crying chorus with his twin. He thought perhaps Fred just wanted to wait until he really had something to say. Molly just called Fred the thoughtful one.
When they were three both Fred and George had spent the majority of their time following Arthur around. When ever he was home you could expect the twins in his wake. A few times Arthur almost trod on them, not realizing how close they were following. Fred liked to ride on Arthur's shoulders while George was more content to stay on the ground and hold Arthur's hand. He could still remember Fred's small hands clutching his hair, his ears. It was amazing how fast he had grown from a child that could fit on Arthur's shoulders.
Arthur remembered wrestling with Percy, Fred and George once in the backyard. For once the twins were not torturing Percy but where in league with him. Arthur remembered it was the year before Percy was supposed to leave for Hogwarts. Perhaps the twins knew he would be gone soon. So, it had been three young boys against Arthur. There had been a great deal of twisting, tugging, jumping, and falling. Of course Arthur lost. Fred had gained the illustrious honor of sitting on Arthur's chest.
"We win, da," Fred said.
"I can see that," Arthur managed to gasp out. "...oh...you've gotten," he gasped again, " ...gotten heavy!"
Fred grinned and dropped some grass on Arthur's face, "lucky for me!"
"Arthur?"
Molly's voice brought him back and, blinking, saw only grass outside again, blowing slowly.
Turning slightly, Arthur glanced back at Molly. She had placed a picture of Fred on the table. It was one of the few photographs they had of either twin by himself. Though most could not tell his sons apart this photo was unmistakably Fred. His smile had been a little shyer than George's for a long time and Arthur could still see the difference. He also cocked his head to the right when his picture was taken as opposed to George who kept his face straight. Fred waggled his eyebrows in the photo but did not stop smiling.
Arthur managed to tear his eyes away from the picture and looked up at Molly. "Yes?"
"Are you ready?" Molly asked.
They hadn't invited the other children home this year. Bill and Fluer had a baby to care for, Percy was always busy at the Ministry, Ron and Hermoine were still at junior station and needed to be on call, Ginny was expecting, Charlie was on the continent, and George...
In past years they had all come together. All eight of them had sat around the table each bringing a memory of Fred to share with the candles lit. The first time had been the hardest. Seeing George sitting alone had tore straight through to the core of everything Arthur felt. He had never seen a worse look in his life than that of George's face. Arthur imagined it was much they way he had looked when Tank died. The look on George's face brought back the weight of Fred's death more acutely than any story or memory ever could have.
So, they cried, every one of them. Even Charlie broke down telling a story about Fred trying to grow a pony tail to be like Charlie.
When it had come to George's turn he didn't say anything at first, just placed his chin on his hands flat against the table and stared at Fred's picture; tears fell down his cheeks but not as one normally cries. They fell as if they had always been falling, like a river uncontrolled. Arthur had almost stood, gone to his son's side but it was impossible. There was nothing he could have said or done. He couldn't even ease the pain in his own heart, the hole where a son had been.
"Why am I alone?" George had finally muttered.
That was when Arthur had begun to cry.
Time did make the hurt less but it never went away and though Arthur still had six children it would always be the wrong number.
Finally back in the present, Arthur nodded at Molly. He sat down at the table across from her, the picture between them. Arthur opened his mouth but before he could speak they heard a pop from outside. A soft tapping came at the door as it eased opened. They both looked and saw George come through. He had some boxes in his arms.
"Hi."
Arthur heard Molly sniff and he knew she'd be crying soon.
"I'm sorry," George said, "I couldn't not come, I..." He stopped and Arthur could see his eyes were slightly red. "I didn't want to be alone."
Arthur stood up and took the boxes from George's arms. As he did so he noticed George's hands were shaking slightly. Blocking his son from Molly's sight, Arthur smiled, setting the boxes down. On top was a package of Canary Creams. Arthur laughed slightly as he saw them and George smiled in the shy way Fred used to.
"Well... they were his idea originally so... so, I thought they might be appropriate."
"Certainly," Arthur said, pulling George into a hug.
George gripped him tightly as though he might fall down if he did not. Arthur mentally cursed himself for not out right telling George to come. Where else should his son be on this day than with those who could share his pain? Arthur should have known George would come no matter what. They were twins, even in death they weren't totally apart. If Arthur could feel the absence of his son still so acutely then to George it must have been like an open wound which would never close.
Molly came up beside them then and hugged them both. "I'm glad you came, George."
He just smiled at her and all three slowly broke apart, moving to sit at the table. George sat at the head with Arthur and Molly on either side, the picture in the middle. George ran a hand along the frame of the picture. Fred in the frame looked over at George's hand, pushed the frame from within by George's hand with his head. Arthur heard George make a choking sound in his throat. Putting a hand on George's shoulder, Arthur pushed the photograph back slightly from George. Pulling out his wand, Arthur lit the three candles.
"Fred," he began, "we miss you."
Somewhere along the way Arthur learned that life is never what you expect no matter how much you try to 'expect the unexpected.' People will always surprise you with the good and the bad. You will lose friends, lose family just as surely as you will gain them. You can fear the worst and only get the best or war might break out twice in your life time.
In the end Arthur decided, who could tell when exactly, to always be happy for what he had and to fight to keep it as long as he could. Family, friends, and children were the most important things in life and Arthur would try to never waste the time he had. Arthur lived life.
