A/n: Oh yeah…back to weekly updates. Well, for this chapter, at least. It was so much fun to write! Make sure you all have plenty of time to absorb this chapter, cause it's a doozy…major heaviness in this chapter.

Dedication: Dame Brittany! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I know it's tomorrow...but I couldn't help myself. I hope you love this chapter, just as much as I always love your reviews! You are AWESOME, and I wish you all the happiness in the world on your 20th birthday. AND MANY MOOOORE! And remember, stay classy. ;)

(Sorry to give you such a depressing chapter for your birthday…next update will have a happier feel to it, if it makes you feel any better.)

Oh, duh, and happy birthday to Hermione tomorrow as well! I snuck you in at the end cause you're awesome! (Yes, it's totally normal/cool to wish fictional characters happy birthday…)

Warning: Do NOT read this chapter unless you've read the last one. You will not understand it, seriously. The flashbacks go hand-in-hand. I wouldn't make you read anything unless it was absolutely necessary, and the last chapter's flashback is absolutely necessary to understand this chapter.

The Tales of Weasley the Father
By dieselwriter

Chapter 10: The (Untold) Tale of Guilt

Ron sat at his desk at the Auror office, contemplating. He scratched his chin with the quill that was currently not writing the report it was supposed to.

"Hey Ron, you busy?"

Ron sat back in his chair and looked over his shoulder to see Harry standing in the doorway.

"Not for you, mate. What's up?"

Harry shrugged, stepping into the office.

"Not much…Hogwarts sent me another owl about James."

"Ha, he causing trouble again?" Ron asked with a laugh, always entertained at his nephew's antics. "What'd he do this time?"

"Something about a toilet…his Uncle George apparently gave him the idea," Harry couldn't hide the amusement he found in this either as he smiled. "Ginny said she'd handle it."

"Sounds like you're off the hook then. Wanna celebrate with a tea break?"

"Don't you have a report to write?" Harry asked, glancing over the work on his friend's desk.

"Yeah," Ron replied, disgruntled. "So you want to go or not?"

Harry's grin broadened.

"Sure, let me get my cloak."

"Yeah, let's…aww…" Ron moaned as a purple Interdepartmental Memo flew into the room and landed on his already overcrowded desk. "Damn."

"Well, what's it say?" Harry asked, disappointment drowning out his curiosity.

Ron read through the memo, his face changing from annoyance to confusion as he finished.

"I borrowed a book from Senior Auror Williams?" Ron asked, putting the note down on his desk and staring at Harry, puzzled.

"Probably, if he's sent you a memo for it," Harry shrugged.

"Shit…" Ron muttered as he picked up his wand. "Accio Williams' book!"

A large manual flew from the top of the filing cabinet and Ron ducked before the massive book could hit him square in the face. It instead hit the wall behind him and fell to the ground with a loud thump.

Harry laughed as he leaned over to pick up the heavy book with both hands. "The Big Book of Boys?" he read off the cover, and a mischievous grin flitted across his face.

"It's a book I got for Rosie, ya git," Ron muttered as his ears turned red. "This Bobby thing has gotten completely out of hand. I wanted to give her some tips."

"Ha, wow, how did that go?"

"Poorly."

Harry could only laugh as Ron checked under the pieces of parchment on his desk, obviously ignoring an awkward memory.

"So this is the book Senior Auror Williams lent you?" Harry asked bemusedly.

"Check the author, genius," Ron replied, shuffling the papers on his desk around in search for something.

"Lauren…Williams," Harry muttered, putting the very large book back on the filing cabinet. "What on Earth did she fill the pages with?"

"Hell if I know."

"Well you read the thing…didn't you?"

Ron gave him a slight smile as he sat back on the chair in defeat.

"I skimmed the chapter on Quidditch…."

Harry shook his head as he found an unoccupied corner of the desk and sat down as well.

"Right, so no book then?"

"It's probably at home," Ron muttered, checking his watch. "I could sneak over there and grab it…wanna come over?"

"Kingsley's been all over me to finish off those Selwyn papers…but if you insisted on me coming, I suppose I could-"

He was interrupted as a particularly violent Interdepartmental Memo came through the door and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Potter…get you arse back to your desk…" Harry read off, his brow creasing in annoyance. "Dammit."

"Ha, sorry mate, better luck next time!" Ron laughed as he grabbed his cloak and headed out of the room. "I'll come stop by your office to bug you later, how's that?"

Harry merely grumbled his reply as Ron Apparated from the hallway and ended up at the back porch of his house. He brought out his wand to magically unlock the door but frowned as he discovered it to be unlocked already.

His fingers clasped the doorknob as he heard a voice coming from inside his house, not sounding at all like his wife or children. It was indistinguishable through the door, but it was a man's voice, sounding foreign and harsh.

Ron's heart leapt to his throat as he heard Rosie whimper and Hermione's soothing voice.

He wasn't sure what he planned on doing if there actually was some evil wizard in his house, but he didn't particularly care as he exploded through the back door, wand raised and anger pulsing in his veins.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY, YOU FU…n…umm…."

Hermione glared up at him from her seat on the sofa, and both of his children gave him frightened looks from her side. His wife's right hand was stroking her son's cheek as he used her lap as a pillow, while her left hand was busy fingering Rosie's hair, who was burrowed into her side.

"Daddy!" Hugo cried as he scampered away from his mother's grasp and went over to hug his father fiercely.

Ron lowered his wand as he picked up his son. Hugo's arms instantly went around his father's neck as Ron carried him over to the couch. Apparently the male voice Ron had heard was coming from the telly. He was so used to having it off that it wasn't a wonder that he hadn't considered it an option.

And it wasn't the forlorn looks on his children's faces that gave away the fact that there was a problem; rather, it was the fact that the television was on in the first place.

The only times the telly went on in the Weasley household were either when it rained (but even then it was a rarity, for the children usually preferred to read or play chess, or cause trouble), or else when something bad had happened. Something bad enough that his children would want to escape in the world of television, to avoid the reality of the situation.

He sat down on the couch and continued to hold his son as he snuggled into his neck.

"What's happened?" he whispered to his wife, but it was Rosie who sniffled an answer, still from her mother's side.

"Pig…died…."

Ron felt his insides turn cold. Hugo squirmed in his arms but he was momentarily frozen, unable to comfort the small child.

"Pig?"

Rosie nodded before snuggling further into Hermione's side, hiding her tears.

He felt numb as Hermione's hand grabbed his own.

"He was an old bird…lived a long and very fulfilling life."

Ron nodded stupidly, realizing with an unfortunately stark clarity that this was his fault.

He had let Pig out of his cage earlier in the morning for a quick fly around the house, but he had been so busy trying to get the papers of his report together that he had left the small owl outside when he left for work.

"Shit I forgot him!"

Hermione gave him a reprimanding look, but the children didn't seem to care, apart from the fact that they tried to hug their respective parent more than their small arms could manage.

"He was old, it wasn't anyone's fault. These things happen…it was an accident."

And that simple phrase triggered the guilt. The children might have been pacified by their mother's words, but the guilt he had felt at being the cause of his old pet owl's death was intensified with another death…one that had happened long ago….

Firewhiskey did not taste as well the second time around.

It had seared on the way down, and it burned even worse on the way back up as he expelled it into the toilet.

But he had vomited up anything from his stomach long before, so all he was stuck with now was dry heaving.

He panted as he tried to calm himself down enough to spit out the excess bile in his mouth and lean his head on the cool porcelain.

"Ron?"

It was a whisper that wouldn't have carried over the dinner table, but in the quiet confines of the Burrow at four in the morning it was easy to hear and identify.

"Hey, Herm—" he had another coughing fit when his scratchy voice tried to fight the burning of his throat in an unsuccessful attempt to talk. "—ione—"

Hermione hesitated at the door for only a second before rushing over to him and rubbing his back comfortingly.

"Ron, are you sick? What's wrong?"

He was gasping with the effort to breathe without upsetting his raw throat.

"Nah," he rasped. "'M all right…. 'M fine…."

She froze, her hands now just resting on his back. He couldn't see her expression but didn't particularly care as his stomach churned and he ducked his head back to the toilet.

"You lied to me…earlier…" Hermione whispered, but Ron was unable to hear it as he dry heaved.

He resurfaced a few minutes later to wipe his mouth with his sleeve shakily, and turned to look at her shocked, disbelieving face.

"What?" he asked and winced as his throat protested again.

"You lied to me!" Hermione accused in a loud voice.

He thought back to when he arrived only a few hours ago, when he had tripped dazedly to receive her in a warm embrace. Of course he hadn't been fine; he had killed someone, and his own life had nearly been taken along with Tonks'…the Portkey trip back to the Burrow had upset his stomach again and that led him to the unpleasant memory of watching Antonin Dolohov fall to his death…but Hermione was alive and hugging him…of course he'd said he was all right….

Ron averted his eyes and made a noncommittal noise in his throat that felt far more soothing than answering her with words.

Hermione grabbed his arm with both her hands, and he turned to face her once again.

"What happened?" she spoke quietly again, her eyes pleading with his.

He thought about it for a moment, to tell her about Dolohov and Bellatrix…how he felt a guilt and darkness like none other consuming him, to the point he couldn't sleep, but could only spend his time trying to dispel it through disgorgement.

And how he was scared. Oh, how he'd tried to fall asleep earlier, but he'd quickly felt Bellatrix's disgusting breath at his neck, condescending yet frightening whispers echoing in his head.

"Nothing," Ron whispered, staring deep into her brown eyes and trying not to let his fear show. "Nothing happened."

Her hands moved to the sides of his face and he tried to hold himself together, to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest and to keep his stomach contents where they belonged.

"Please, tell me what happened," her eyes were unblinking, not willing to break the connection.

He hesitated, finding it difficult to breathe, and to his utter horror he thought he felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He blamed it on the fact that he hadn't blinked in a minute as he took a deep breath and answered.

"Fell," he whispered.

Her lips twitched upward, but her eyes sparkled with tears of her own, and he knew she found no humor in the situation even if she were smiling.

"You fell?"

He nodded, but she kept her hands at the sides of his face still. Her smile disappeared as she realized what falling would actually entail.

"Off your broom…" her eyes held some of the horror he had felt and continued to feel at the thought of it.

He shrugged but found he couldn't take his eyes off hers now that she held his head so firm.

"Yeah…"

A tear fell from her eye as she removed her hands momentarily to embrace him.

"But you're all right now…you're here and you're safe and you're family is safe…we're all okay now."

He wanted to give a laugh but it came out more as a sob than anything, and he cringed at hearing it come from him while in the arms of the woman he loved.

"Something else…" he said in a voice that didn't sound like his, even with his throat hurting like it did.

She squeezed him tighter as his thoughts returned to Dolohov, to watching him fall, to doing the deed without even thinking about it.

He squirmed out of her arms and returned to the toilet, dry heaving. She was at his back in an instant and soothed him with soft reassurances of him being all right, but they seemed empty.

He was anything but all right.

"I k—" more heaving, and Hermione's hands worked his back lovingly.

"You're kidding?" Hermione guessed, but her tone let him know that if that was what he had meant to say he would be in trouble.

"I k-ki—" he felt ridiculous, like a child. Truly she must have thought him to be a completely fragile idiot.

"You kissed?"

That did it; he was falling apart at the seams, going completely insane. He stopped dry heaving and instead laughed into the toilet at what Hermione had said.

"No, no, it hurts," he laughed and coughed as his throat protested the laughter bursting from deep within him. "It's not funny….I killed him…."

Hermione's hands, which had been at his back, fell to her sides. He laughed insanely, feeling incredibly stupid and worthless but not being able to stop himself.

"Ron…" Hermione whispered, but he couldn't hear her through his hysterical laughter.

And just as suddenly as he had started laughing, he felt something wet on his cheek. It took him a few moments to realize he was crying.

He abruptly fell back away from the toilet, looking through his watery gaze at Hermione. His breathing was coming in hitches, as the emotion he had tried to keep hidden from her came breaking out of him like a dam.

"I d-didn't mean to…Stupefied him, and he fell…" he shook his head, trying to make her understand why one of her friends had become a killer that night.

It was hard to make out her expression as the tears continued down his cheeks. He truly felt like a child now as he thought he read sympathy in her face.

"I'm s-sorry…I n-never wanted…I didn't kn-know what I was d-doing…."

He had to make her understand, even as the sobs were trying to work their way out of him. He wouldn't know what to do if she didn't believe…if she truly thought him to be a cold-blooded murderer….

It had taken a while for her to respond, from the shock of it all he'd later conclude. To his dismay her eyes had misted up as well, and just as many tears were falling from her eyes as there were from his.

"It's okay, Ron, it was an accident," she said softly, kindly, as she reached for him and hugged him once again.

It wasn't an accident. He had meant to curse that Death Eater…he just hadn't expected the consequences that had come with it. And even after he had done it…after Tonks had told him who it was…he hadn't felt upset. He had felt glad…unknowingly getting a revenge that he had wanted a long time ago, and had almost forgotten about.

The sobs broke through and he cried into Hermione's shoulder.

He had wanted revenge…but not like this.

The guilt spilled forth and was replaced with some awful form of humiliation as Hermione said nothing. She just held him and soaked his shirt with tears of her own. But where she was silent he made a production of it, shaking and nearly hyperventilating as he was able to get rid of all the emotion he had bottled up since they left to pick Harry up.

Killing Dolohov, feeling something cold drop into his heart as he watched him fall…. Having Tonks slip through his fingers, unable to catch her, thinking her dead…. Having Bellatrix strip him of his wand and broom, his only means of support, having her at his neck, letting him fall to his death….Losing Mad-Eye….And her, seeing Hermione safe and sound….

His stomach churned, but he was sick of being sick, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to heave through his sobs anyway.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said after a while. He shook his head on her shoulder but she held him tighter. "I didn't see it before…I didn't know there was a problem…I-I should've been there for you."

He wanted to laugh but he couldn't.

"It's my problem…" he said, and as he said it he felt himself calm down considerably. "Nothing you could do…."

It was a weight he was going to have to carry on his own; there was no way he'd let her take any of his problems, especially of this magnitude, with her. He would plug up the dam, and with part of his emotions out already, it would be easy to keep the rest inside.

He pulled back and gave her a half-hearted smile. She didn't seem too convinced of this sudden turnaround in behavior.

"I could've talked to you about it….Made you not feel alone."

"Well you're here now…we're talking…'m not alone."

She smiled and so did he; he refused to make her feel bad about his becoming a murderer.

But it was with a sudden jolt that he realized what implications his last few words had just had. Her face wasn't more than a foot away from his, and her hands were still around his neck. He felt his ears burn as he stood up abruptly, causing her to lose her grip on him.

She looked up at him with curious eyes, obviously not reading the same insinuations he was, or else ignoring them.

"I'm all right," he said and was pleased to hear the conviction back in his voice.

He took her hand and helped her to her feet as well.

"You're sure?" she asked, her eyes boring into his own as if trying to read his thoughts through Occlumency.

"Yeah…I just needed to…talk about it."

"O-okay," she said, and to his surprise she wrapped her hands around his waist and hugged him once again. "You scared me."

He blanched.

"I'd never seen you like that before…please tell me if you feel like that again…I want to— I need to be there for you."

He knew his answer. No. Never. He wouldn't do this to her again….

"Okay."

Lies. More guilt. But this was at least a healthy fib…to appease her wishes and at the same time know that she would stay happy when he kept problems like this to himself. It was the perfect solution.

She let him go after a while and smiled up at him again.

"Thanks," he said to her, at least sincere in his gratitude.

"Any time, and I mean that," she said as she lightly poked him in the chest.

He swallowed his guilt down and grinned.

"Where is he?"

It was an unpleasant question, but necessary.

"I think a cat got him, actually," Hermione replied, and her disgust was evident in her voice.

"Oh."

Well that was an unpleasant thought. His nearly blind owl getting snapped up by some large tabby….

"I've got to head back to the office."

Hugo tightened his grip on his neck and Hermione squeezed his hand. He had stayed for nearly an hour, but really, Senior Auror Williams was going to be pissed with him for leaving without so much as a note.

"It won't be long…I'll come back and we'll all watch a flick, how's that?"

Rosie mumbled something incomprehensible from her mother's side, and Hugo rubbed his sniveling nose all over Ron's shirt, but his hold relaxed. Ron deposited the boy on his mother's lap again and headed up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked cautiously. She had easily adapted herself to reading his guilt expressions, and she knew the degree of guilt he currently held behind his eyes.

"I've gotta get a book…" he replied, which was the truth and Hermione only spent another moment analyzing him before nodding and giving him a soft smile.

"I love you," she said, as she squeezed her children and they took a moment from their lamentation to grumble about their mother's mushy affections.

Ron smiled at the trio as some of the guilt alleviated; he couldn't feel too awful when his kids seemed able to return back to their original sarcastic selves even when they were upset.

"I love you too," he said, and Rosie and Hugo balked further.

He chuckled as he ascended the stairs, entering his study. It took only moments to locate the book, much smaller than the other Williams' book he had nearly been clobbered with earlier.

He headed back down the stairs and passed the front door, planning to use the fireplace in the living room to Floo back to the Ministry, when something caught his eye out the front window.

He opened the door and found the ridiculously tall Bobby Benson in his front yard, trying to reach a hanging branch from a tree. In it sat a large, fat tabby with mean eyes.

"Need any help?" he asked, striding up to the boy.

Bobby retracted when he saw who had walked over to him.

"N-no, sir," he squirmed, easily remembering the last awkward conversation he had had with the Auror. "Just trying to get my cat out of your tree…I think she's stuck."

Ron could see the problem, for he wondered how the absurdly large cat had been able to climb the tree in the first place. The cat glowered at Ron as if reading his thoughts and hissed.

He reached for the cat anyway and resisted the urge to strangle the far-too-reminiscent-of-Crookshanks cat as it sunk its claws deeply into his arms.

"Here Bobby," he said, handing the cat back to the boy.

Bobby stumbled under the weight of the animal and smiled up at him.

"Th-thank you, sir," he said, then took a look at the state of his cat and spoke to it. "Oh, Daisy, have you been eating birds again? You're supposed to stay inside…Mum hates it when you go hunting…."

Ron, who had been about to turn around to head back to the house, stopped abruptly to stare back at the boy and cat. Daisy glared back at him and bared her teeth, revealing a single feather in between her pointy teeth.

It was the cold fury, an awful, despicable second of hate, that made Ron speak out.

"Bobby…"

The boy turned back around, his hazel eyes looking slightly nervous.

"Yes, Auror Weasley?"

It'd be easy this time, to blame this cat he already despised more than Hermione's old cat…to pass his guilt on this child, whom he loathed for far less sensible reasons….Be rid of his guilt and of the boy: a perfect way to kill two birds with one stone….

"You guys have scissors at your house, don't you?"

The strain in his voice was obviously ignored by a grinning Bobby.

"Yes sir? Would…would you like to borrow them?" he replied, amused but hesitant.

The kid was obviously slow on the uptake, but it made Ron smile all the same.

"No, that's okay, but thanks. Say hi to your father for me."

Ron stared after him as the boy continued back to his house, the wind causing his shaggy brown hair to blow into his face.

He smiled as he headed back to the house. The guilt almost felt good this time.

"I knew you liked him."

Ron grimaced as he found Hermione standing on the porch, smiling broadly.

"I don't like him…I just didn't want him to cry about it."

"You didn't tell him the truth because you didn't want him to break up with Rosie."

Ron's grimace disappeared as his jaw dropped in alarm.

"They're not going out?!"

Hermione's playful grin let him know the truth.

"Ha, well, I knew that," he replied, his nonchalance shattered by the relief in his voice. "Despite what you might have me believe, they did not kiss last weekend. And he still needs a haircut."

Hermione surprised him by coming up to hug him.

"You all right?"

He stuck his face into his hair and inhaled her scent. He was vaguely reminded of that time, a long time ago, where he could easily hide his feelings from her in a bathroom. How things had changed.

"Yeah…I will be."

And it was the truth. She hugged him tighter and they sat like that for a long while, Ron absorbing her comfort and Hermione offering it freely.

A/n: Oh, guys, doods, 10th chapter! This is officially the first fic I've gotten to in double digits chapter-wise! :D

If all…erm, 41 of you on my alert list for this fic leaves a review, I'd have over 100 reviews! OMG! Guys, we can so totally do this! Haha, well I'd guarantee you that if I get over 100 reviews for this, I'd update by the weekend. No doubt. And seriously… just a few words…doesn't need to be a freaking novel of a review…a few words are sufficient!

As always, thanks to all of my fantastic, loverly reviewers; I LOVE YOU ALL! Thanks for sticking with me through these first 10 chapters. I hope you all hang out for the next 10! WOOT!

-dieselwriter

:shakes head at length of chapter: You guys…I started this fic out with 5 page chapters…and now I'm up to 10 pages?! Seriously…I've gotta get it back down… :P